#real eye handy palette

[featherandferns]

guilty as sin? (fic - part 1/2)

jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader | largely inspired by the bible

content warning: sexual content; mentions of parental abuse (physical abuse) | any questions for trigger warnings, feel free to inbox anonymously

word count: 14k.

blurb: when you, John B's half sister, return to Kildare after over two years of living in Colorado, your adolescent crush that you harboured for his best friend comes screaming back. Because you and JJ can't be together in real life, what's the harm in a fantasy?

“And this is your room.”

The syrup-coloured wood is the first thing your eyes meet when John B pushes open the bedroom door. There’s the vague lingering smell of teenage boy which he’s tried to air out, the window open ajar, and the clutter of his belongings has been moved to make space for your own. As you drop your duffel bag and step into the room, you take in the walls. There’s posters and prints stuck above his bed, dotted around on slats of wood separating windows: someone surfing; a rockstar smashing his guitar. An old skateboard deck is nailed into the wall alongside a license plate. The sheets are bright blue, the bed freshly made, and a clean towel is folded up at the foot. It’s well-lit with plenty of daylight flowing through the many windows. Homely and inviting.

“Is it, uh, alright?”

You turn to find John B leaning against the doorframe, hands in his short pockets. Smiling, you nod.

“It’s perfect,” you tell him. “I’m honestly chill with crashing on the couch, though.”

It’s pretty obvious this was his room: you feel guilty kicking him out.

He shakes his head and gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “I moved into my dad’s room anyway. This has been the spare for a while.”

“Well, thanks,” you smile.

He nods, mirroring your content. “I’ll let you settle in and stuff. I moved all my crap out the closet so you can put your stuff in there, and the top bedside drawer is empty.”

“That’s perfect,” you say. You lift your bag with a grunt and dump it on the bed.

“I gotta go to work but call if you need anything. Shouldn’t be back too late.”

Unzipping your bag, you look to him. “Where’d you work?”

“Got this gig helping out at Ward Cameron’s. Don’t know if you remember him?”

“Course I do,” you snort. “The kingpin of Kildare, and your dad’s treasure hunting buddy.”

There’s a tense silence as your words catch up with you. You press your eyes shut, embarrassed.

“Shit, sorry. That didn’t come out how I meant it to.”

“It’s cool,” John B says, graciously gliding past it. “Anyway, he pays pretty good so can’t complain. Mostly just handy-man odd jobs.”

“Very noble work,” you joke.

With a quiet laugh, John B nods and backs out the door. He lingers another moment, contemplating saying something else. “Look, uh, I know it isn’t ideal circumstances, you coming back to Kildare and stuff, but I’m glad you’re here. Really. It’s nice having you back, sis.”

Your mood sobers, smile turning solemn.

“Thanks,” you quietly reply.

He nods once more and pats the doorframe in farewell. “Right, I’ll let you get unpacked. See you later.”

“See ya.”

When John B leaves – the front door shuddering against the house as it slams shut – you’re overcome with quiet. In Colorado, where you lived with your mom in the city, there was little nature. You forgot how peaceful Kildare is. Through the crack in the window, birdsong and cricket chimes accompany the sound of your unpacking. You turf out your clothes and take to putting them in the closet. Shoes and bags and bikinis. A jacket and a few sweatshirts. It was easy enough to plan for your outfits considering you’re only staying the summer. You remember the weather in Kildare well enough from when you used to live here.

Once you’ve unpacked your clothes, you find your paints. A box of watercolours which have seen much use and love, the hinges rusted and the inside of the palette smeared with dried mixed paint. Turning to the bedside table, you pull open the bottom drawer on accident. You come face to face with corny porno magazines, a box of tissues, two wrapped condoms and a half empty bottle of painkillers.

“Gross,” you mutter, slamming it shut. Yep, this was definitely a dude’s bedroom.

The top drawer is empty, like John B promised. You fill it with your paints and sketchbooks and pencils.

As the day ploughs on, the room becomes increasingly saturated with your personality. Postcards from Colorado, of the towns and cities you visited, photographs from school of your friends and classmates: you scatter them along them wall, amongst John B’s. Some of your favourite paintings, alongside artists which inspire you, join the mix. On the desk you add a few of your own books to the haphazard stack of abandoned homework and school reports.

At the bottom of your duffle bag is your penny board. You look around the room, searching for empty space to slot it without adding to already cluttered surroundings, and opt to slot it under the bed. Ducking down, you come face to face with a collection of empty beer cans. Clearly the spring cleaning only went so far. It’s noisy as you drag them out, but you’re certain you hear someone shouting. Pausing, sitting back on your haunches, you turn to peer out the open bedroom door. It’s silent for a moment, and then you hear footsteps.

“Yo! JB, you home?”

It’s a guy shouting. His voice sounds vaguely familiar. When he comes into the corridor, he glances into Big John’s bedroom (now claimed by your older half-brother) first. Blonde messy hair and well-worn combat boots instantly name him. JJ.  He turns to the spare bedroom and stops short the moment his eyes land on you, sat amongst a pile of trash.

“You’re not John B,” he says.

“What gave me away?” you reply with a lift of your brows.

There’s a long awkward moment where he stares at you. You can practically hear the cogs turning as he takes you in. When you lift your arm up to scratch the back of your neck, realisation dawns upon him. You imagine your scar on the outside of your elbow gave you away.

“Holy crap! Little Routledge?” he gapes.

You laugh. “Haven’t been called that in a minute.”

JJ steps into the room and you get to your feet. He tackles you into a hug. It’s too short, too sudden, and then he’s stepping away from you again, leaving you dizzy on your feet.

“The fuck? You’re, like, grown now,” he says.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “well, I am sixteen.”

“The fuck!” he repeats. He then takes in where you’re standing, and the state of the room, and frowns. “Wait, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Colorado with your mom?”

“I was,” you say. You kick one of the cans out the way and fold your arms over your chest, shrugging. “I came back for the summer.”

“Oh, that’s sick!”

You laugh. It’s a nice reaction to have from someone who you haven’t seen for over two years.

“John B gave you his old room then?”

He walks into it as if it’s his own. You watch as he studies the new additions to the wall that you’ve added. Lingers on one of your paintings.

"Yeah, he’s moved into his dad’s, apparently.”

“Yeah, he moved in there a while ago,” JJ tells you. “I’ve been sleeping in here most of the time.”

Your mind flashes back to the bedside drawer stocked with teenage boy necessities. Ah, makes sense. You remember how JJ was when you were a dorky thirteen-year-old. At the ripe age of fourteen, he had girls fawning after him. He was shameless in his reputation. The conversations you overheard between himself and John B as he’d brag about his escapades are seared into your memory, as you felt your wasted preteen heart splinter with every tale. It’s no surprise now that he’s probably just as unruly. Especially considering how he looks. There isn’t much time to ogle though because he’s looking away from the décor, meeting your gaze again.

“That explains all the empty beer cans, then,” you say.

He cringes. “Yeah, uh, sorry ‘bout that.”

You shrug. “It’s cool. I need to toss ‘em out but I don’t know where the trash bags are…”

“Oh, right,” he says, breezing past you. His cologne lingers in the air when he leaves. There’s the smallest moment for you to catch your breath as JJ bangs around in the kitchen, and then he reappears with a roll of black bags. Tosses them to you and you catch. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

You begin to shove the cans into the bag and JJ starts to help. His black button-up gapes open as he leans over and it takes everything not to glance down his shirt like some pervert.

“How come you didn’t want to stay in Colorado for the summer, then?”

“Change of scenery,” you vaguely reply. It isn’t a complete lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either.

“Well, you chose the best summer to come back. Our mission this year is to have the best summer of all time.”

“Pretty lofty goal to set,” you chuckle.

JJ glances up at you, flashing you a grin. “Nah, we got it in the bag.”

You find yourself smiling back, held captive under his stare. When he takes the now full trash bag off you, tying it off, you snap out of it.

“So, where’s your brother at then?” he asks, heading out the room. You follow.

“At work. Said he does jobs for Cameron now.”

“Oh, yeah. Cameron sorta took him under his wing after his dad…went missing,” JJ replies.

You have a feeling that the way people talk about John B’s father is rather doctored.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” you tell him, referring to Big John.

As you step on the porch, the sunlight warms your face. The floorboards creak as you make your way down them, to the garbage can outside.

“It was insane,” JJ says to you. He tosses the trash away. “I mean, we all knew Big John was a bit too into the whole royal-merchant thing but…we never thought it’d go that far, you know?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Scary.”

JJ looks at you a moment longer. Then, he laughs to himself and shakes his head. “Can’t believe you’re sixteen now.”

“Can’t believe you’re seventeen.”

“What? I look good or something?”

He does a small spin on the spot, arms held out by his sides. You roll your eyes, acting as if you’re unaffected. It’s hard to swallow the reflex reaction of yes.

“Or something,” you say.

JJ takes it in stride. “Well, you look pretty cute yourself considering you’ve been in the mountains for the last three years.”

“I don’t live in the mountains,” you snort. The word ‘cute’ rattles around your head like a pinball.

“You’re taller now too. Practically come up to my shoulders. I remember when me and John B could pick you up by your ankle like a marlin.”

“Yeah, I remember that too,” you not-so-fondly recall.

JJ grins and steps over to you. Despite both of your growth spurts, you still have to look up at him, and him down at you. His eyes are just as dreamy as you remember them. When you first left for Colorado, you hardly had time to pack. In the midst of chaos, taking a picture of your brother’s best friend didn’t seem all that important. Cut to you spending endless nights trying to remember his eyes, the exact colour and the exact shape. Trying to remember the dimples that popped out when he smiled. The pure joy in his laugh. The way your heart felt like it might explode whenever he looked at you, even if it were for a second.

But when JJ pats your head, your chest deflates.

“Well, see you around, little Routledge,” he says, stepping away. “Tell your brother I was looking for him.”

Because even after all these years, you’re still just John B’s little sister in JJ’s eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

You stare into your can of cider. In the night, the only light being that from the bonfire John B started up in the backyard, you can’t make out the colour of it. Just the swirling of liquid. You’d spent the last three days working on a watercolour of the marsh side to John B’s house, but you couldn’t capture the movement of the water quite right.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Pope frowns.

“What’s there to be confused about, Pope?” JJ sighs, seemingly exhausted from the questions. There had been an influx of them the minute John B brought you out of the Chateau. “His mom shagged her dad and boom, here she is.”

“Charming mental images there, JJ, thanks,” John B cringes.

You laugh into your drink.

“No, I get that. But…You used to live here, right?” Pope asks you.

You nod.

“But then you moved to Colorado?”

“Yeah?”

“But now you’re back here?”

“Apparently,” you say.

Pope’s frown deepens: apparently that cleared nothing up for him. You’ve never known someone so analytical. “This is complicated,” he observes.

“No shit,” Kiara quips.

It was complicated. Families usually are. Your mom had split from John B’s dad when he was three years old. She ran off to Raleigh, in North Carolina, and met a guy pretty quick. That’s when you came into the picture, born almost a year behind John B. Their relationship was rocky, to say the least, and at some point your mom decided that it may be best for you to get to know your half-brother whilst her and your dad “figured things out”. What was meant to be a short stay at Big John’s house became a four-year affair. Then, at thirteen, your mom decided to flee the state, away from your dad, and she was taking you with her. It all came out of the blue. You weren’t exactly thrilled to go to Colorado. You liked Kildare, and North Carolina, and John B and his friends. Kiara was always nice to you. She never talked down to you, despite you being seen as John B’s little sister. You bonded over turtles and Bob Marley. JJ was different. He’d prank you with John B and tease you about your dolls, but he’d also patch you up if you fell and calm you down after a nightmare. Your crush on him evolved naturally over time. What started as childhood infatuation with the supposed delinquent of Kildare became real. You liked JJ. He was funny and rambunctious, but he had a kindness and tenderness that he kept hidden below. He was often at the house as his own family situation was far from perfect, so having him around became as familiar as John B’s presence. When you left, JJ gave you a hug that you wished would last a lifetime.

But you drifted away in Colorado. You didn’t have anybody’s phone number, save for Big John’s (which your mom refused to let you use), and you were too young to remember addresses to write to them. Social media was never something you latched onto and eventually it all faded away into a strange, dreamlike memory. Being back here is almost proof that you didn’t imagine the whole thing.

“We’re half siblings,” you say, whittling down your family history into a simple statement. “That’s all you really need to know.”

“Damn straight,” JJ whoops, downing the last of his drink. He crunches the can in his fist and heads to the cooler for another.

“You’re staying for the whole summer then?” Kiara asks.

You nod. “I’m tryna get a job at this restaurant in town to keep me busy.”

“Screw that. Just come smoke and surf with us all day, that’ll keep you occupied,” JJ grins.

He’s comfortable in himself, relaxing in a lawn chair, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. His t-shirt represents one of Kildare’s small-town establishments and his shorts are stained with dust and dirt from riding his bike.

“She’s the good one out of us lot,” John B announces, gesturing to you. “Out of all the Routledge offspring, she’s gonna go places. You’re not gonna taint that, JJ.”

“And by ‘all the Routledge offspring’ you mean yourself and her?” Pope checks.

John B nods fervently. “I’m telling you! She’s madly talented.”

“You’re drunk; it’s giving you beer goggles,” you dismiss, finishing your drink.

“You were always the creative one,” JJ remarks. Everyone looks over to him. “Me and John B would be out on the water and she’d be drawing it.”

“Maybe you can show us some of your stuff,” Kiara says.

You laugh and shake your head. “Maybe not.”

The alcohol wizzes up your body as you get to your feet and you take it as a good time to call it quits.

“I think I’m gonna head in.”

“What?”

“No!”

“Come on!”

You laugh, shaking off the group’s disputes. “I’m tired!”

“Lightweight,” JJ teases. You flip him off as you pass, ditching your empty can in the garbage as you go.

“Night guys!” you holler as you head back into the house.

“Night!”

The bedroom John B offered you is starting to feel less like a guest house. You shrug off your cardigan – it stinks of smoke from the fire – and close the door. Through the window, you can hear the group chattering.

Pope seems nice. He hadn’t been around when you lived in Kildare, but you recognised his name. Heyward was a legend on the Cut; you could see his dad in his eyes. Kiara was just as you remembered her, if not more consumed by her environmental activism than before. JJ was the most staggering change of all. He’d grown into his looks, matured around the face. Any puppy fat that you remembered from childhood had vanished. Lithe and lively, he was an American heartthrob, through and through.

As you do your skincare, you glance out the window. You can make out JJ, sat with his back to you. His arms are flailing around as he tells a story. You can’t make out the details through the window but the looks on everyone’s faces tells you it’s pretty damn entertaining. He was always the joker, humour hiding whatever was happening underneath like he was arming himself with a grin. The unexplained bruises on his face and the painful batterings on his body were never explained whenever he’d stay at Big John’s, when you were younger.

The moment he shifts in his seat, you dart away from the window, scared to get caught, and finish getting ready for bed.

A bad dream rouses you awake. It was about Colorado. The warped memories keep you from falling back asleep, no matter how hard you try. Sighing, you stare at the ceiling. The room is bathed in moonlight, cosy in the wooden interior, and you contemplate sitting outside for a bit. The same cardigan from earlier gets pulled on over your vest top and you slip into some crocs.

You head for the front door, creeping past John B’s room, and step onto the porch. There’s a warm, humid air in the night. The crickets and owls harmonise with the faint buzz of mosquitos who surround the porch light. That’s when you realise that it’s already on, and you’re not alone. JJ’s on the porch, laid out on the sofa. He’s smoking a joint. The smell of weed merges into that of the dying embers from the abandoned, extinguished bonfire. You rap gently on the wall as you approach, hoping not to startle him.

“Hey,” he says, looking up at the sound.

“Hey.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“No,” you say. “I thought everyone went home.”

“They did. I’m crashing here tonight. My dad’s…”

He falters, glances up at you, and shakes his head.

“Don’t need to bore you with it.”

“You’re not boring,” you hear yourself tell him.

Smiling, JJ offers the joint to you. You take it, sitting down in the red armchair at the foot of the sofa. The weed consumes your senses when you take a drag, hitting the back of your throat and dulling your thoughts.

“Haven’t smoked in ages,” you say.

“Big smoking community out in Colorado?” JJ asks.

You laugh. “Not where I live, no.”

He takes the joint back when you lean over to him. Tilts his head back as he takes another hit. He’s in the same clothes as earlier, hasn’t even taken off his boots; his hair is tousled like he tried to sleep but couldn’t. You’re caught in the act of staring at him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even make a joke. Instead, he holds your gaze. It’s almost like a silent challenge: who’ll break first?

“Can I say something kinda inappropriate?” he asks.

“I feel like you have to, now.”

JJ grins at that, amused. “You’re way cuter than I remember you.”

“Oh? You mean sweaty thirteen-year-old, chalk-highlight-pink-hair wasn’t cute?” you joke.

Shaking his head, he adds, “No. Well, yeah, but not in the way you are now.”

Your stomach tightens and heart constricts, and you wish you had the joint to have something to distract yourself with. You hope you sound calm and collected when you say, “thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Oh, you’re too kind,” JJ jokes. He takes another long, deep drag. “Is it nice? Being back in Kildare?”

You glance off to the marsh. You forgot to check the time when you got up but judging from the endless navy blue of the sky, it’s still late.

“Sure.”

“Sure?”

You look back to him. “It’s better than Colorado.”

“So, you’re not missing home then?”

The blunt is passed back to you. Taking a drag, you ponder his question. “I don’t think I know where home is right now. I don’t think it’s Colorado, but I don’t know if it’s here either. Maybe I don’t have one.”

JJ doesn’t say anything and you remember yourself. Laughing self-deprecatingly, you shake your head.

“Sorry, think this joint’s going to my head. That was dramatic.”

“No, no, I get ya,” JJ assures. “I know what you mean.”

“You don’t like Kildare?” you ask him.

His expression darkens like a shadow has cast over him. “It depends.”

“Hm,” you say. Nothing more is said on the matter. You get the sense that JJ was vague on purpose.

Pulling your legs into your seat, you glance around at the clutter on the porch. A surfboard is lent against the nett lining of the porch; a rusting duck ornament balances on one of the beams. What looks to be a broken radio sits beside a half-full bottle of rum on a small table by the couch.

“I think it’s good for John B, having you back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” JJ smiles. “He sorta spun out when his dad disappeared. You’re kinda the only family he has left.”

“You’re his family too. Been around longer than I have,” you tell him.

JJ’s smile softens. He glances away from you, fiddling with the paper of the joint, almost as if he’s flustered. “Thanks.”

“So,” you say, “you got some poor girl on this island falling after you?”

“Rude of you to assume there’s only one,” JJ grins wickedly.

You roll your eyes.

“What about you? Some West Coast jock waiting for you back in the home state?”

The sarcastic ‘har har’ that he gets has JJ frowning, bemused.

“Definitely no guy, and definitely no jock.”

“Now that I find hard to believe,” JJ says.

Before you can ask what he means by that, or spiral out by thinking too much about it, JJ’s getting to his feet. He puts the blunt out on the window ledge, ditching the empty butt in a filthy dish. Stretching his arms over his head, sighing, you watch as his t-shirt rides up. The tensing of his abdominal muscles is like torture. God, to run your hands up his chest, over his shoulders, tangle them in the salt-soaked strands of his hair…

“Right, night Little Routledge,” JJ says.

You blink away from his chest and meet his gaze. There’s a strange expression on his face, one you don’t recognise, and you want to scrutinise it and find out what it means. But it’s gone in a flash, as is he as he heads back into the house. You watch through the window as his silhouette drops onto the pull-out sofa.

It takes a minute to regain your composure.

You can’t think of JJ like that. He certainly doesn’t think of you like that, and that childhood crush has long been put to bed. Shaking it awake is the last thing you need right now. Besides, he’s John B’s best friend. Your brother’s best friend. The same brother who’s taken you back into his house, offered you a room, free of charge, without complaint or question. And it seems like John B needs as many people around him as possible right now. But it’s hard to maintain that line of thought, when as you lie back down in your bed, desperate to get some sleep, you can vividly picture the slit of JJ’s chest that you were privy to just moments ago when you close your eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

You follow Tom through the restaurant. He’s the supervisor, eighteen and a fresh high school graduate. It’s hard to keep up with him as he points things out: waiter’s station; kitchen; storeroom…You’d forgotten how overwhelming job orientations can be.

“And this,” he pushes a door open, “is the staff room.”

You glance in and take in the messy pile of shoes, the overflowing trash can, and the three coat pegs overwhelmed with bags and hoodies.

“Love what you’ve done with the space.”

Tom laughs. He closes the door and leans against the doorframe. Broad shouldered, he stands taller than you by a couple inches.

“So, what made you want to work here?”

“I’m really interested in not being broke,” you reply, making him laugh.

“You new to the island? Feel like I haven’t seen you around?”

“This island that small?”

“Or you’re just that unforgettable,” he smoothly returns.

Your face fires up. Laughing nervously, you shift your stance. “I just moved in with my half-brother for the summer. Need something to keep me busy for a few months.”

“Ah, sweet. Anyone I’d know?”

“Dunno,” you say. He starts back into the main restaurant building. They haven’t opened yet. It’s void of life. “John B Routledge?”

“Oh shit, yeah. JB,” he says, flashing you a grin.

He’s charming in a disarming way. The kind of face that a modelling agency would swipe up because of his easy marketability.

When the two of you approach the bar, there’s a girl stood polishing wine glasses. She looks to be about your age, maybe a couple of years older. Her smile is sweet and welcoming like warm hot chocolate on a winter’s night.

“Hey, Lizzy. This is the new starter,” Tom introduces.

“I’m guessing I got the job then?” you ask him. He nods. With that, you offer a hand to Lizzy.

“Nice to meet ya,” she says, shaking it. “Could do with more girls around here.”

“Happy to help,” you reply.

“So, you think you can cover a shift tomorrow night? I figured cause you’ve waitressed before it shouldn’t take too long for you to learn the ropes here,” Tom says.

You nod. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says.

You bid farewell to himself and Lizzy, seeing yourself out the front door. The restaurant is in the heart of the cut, surrounded by other small businesses and hipster start-ups. You begin the journey home, plugging in your headphones and submerging yourself in Reggae music. Children play in the local park and preteens chatter as they speed past you on their bikes. There’s a warm breeze that brushes past you; it smells of sea water and fried fish. You’re passing the harbour. Eyes land on Heyward’s store, the logo just as you remember it from all those years ago. It’s surreal being back.

When your phone buzzes, you pause your sightseeing to check it. It might be John B asking after the interview. Your throat closes up when you see your mom’s contact pop up. A text. ‘Call me back.’

Just like that, you’re dragged out of Kildare and are back in Colorado.

It’s impossible to ignore the text, but you do your best either way. You don’t even remember half the journey to the Chateau as you walk through the door. JJ is home. He’s sat at the messy dining table, eating a bowl of cereal and scrolling through his phone. Tugging out your earbuds, you give a small wave hello.

“How’d the interview go? That was today, right?”

“Smashed it. Got the job,” you say.

“Oh, sweet. Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

You ditch your bag by the door along with your phone. Taking the seat opposite him, you sit cross-legged on the wooden chair. The sketchbook you’d abandoned earlier lays dormant. Opening it up, you flick to your latest piece of the marsh. It’s coming together rather well. You’d decided to add the H.M.S Pogue, sat harboured on the grass. JJ peers over his bowl to the painting.

“Holy shit. That’s sick,” he says through his mouthful of Captain Crunch.

“Thanks,” you smile. “I’m pretty happy with how it’s come out, considering how old these paints are.”

JJ watches as you crack open the aforementioned watercolours. The smell of artificial paint teases the air. Dampening a thin brush in the mason jar of water, you dip into the blue.

“They bad quality or something?”

“A little. They best ones are Winsor and Newton, but I can’t justify spending over twenty bucks on paints.”

“Why not? You’ve clearly got a gift,” JJ says.

You hate how casual he is when he says things like that to you. Like it doesn’t knock the breath out of you like a sucker punch to the chest.

“S’just practice,” you mumble.

You can feel his gaze as you paint. Resting your chin in your hand, you work at the water under the jetty, trying to perfect the shading. You want to feel as though you can walk into the painting; like you could drown in the crystal clean waves.

Painting had become an escape when you were in Colorado. Whatever you could remember of Kildare, you’d paint. When that well ran dry, you began to paint places you wished you could go. Anywhere but the dilapidating family home you’d found yourself in. Secret gardens made of twisting ivy and crumbling, ornate statues hidden amongst orchids and rose bushes. Cosmic planes with make-believe ice cream stations snuck onto Mars and Venus; whales which bathed in the stars and caught a tan in moonbeams. Underwater societies full of sea kelp and multicoloured coral reefs, with octopi hiding amongst crabs and shellfish.

You glance up to find JJ transfixed on the painting. There’s a crease between his brows as if he’s the one concentrating. It makes you laugh, quiet and under breath, and he looks up. Holds your stare.

“That’s amazing, that you can just do that,” JJ says, remarking to your work.

You swallow the sickly rush that his words give you. His tongue dampens his lower lip, tantalisingly slow. You feel it hit somewhere deep inside of you. Something in the air shifts.

Then, so quiet neither of you can be sure he really said it, he utters, “you’re amazing.”

“Yo!”

The door swings open with your brother’s arrival. Your head spins over your shoulder to the front door. John B stands holding a bag of takeout burgers in the air beside his head.

“Y’all hungry?”

“Hell yeah,” JJ says.

When you look to him, it feels as if you could have imagined the whole interaction had just moments ago. JJ’s sat in his seat as he was before, unfazed.

He abandons his cereal and follows John B into the kitchen like a starving dog, begging for food. You place your paintbrush back into the water and join them. John B unpacks the burgers and fries onto half-clean plates. You watch JJ toss a fry into the air and catch it, whooping in celebration. A plate is handed back to you, over John B’s shoulder.

“Beef burger with cheese, no pickles.”

“Thank you,” you sing-song, taking the plate off him.

JJ turns around and looks at you with faux disgust. “No pickles?”

You shake your head, heading back to the table. JJ and John B join you with their own quick dinners, and the three of you eat. You tell John B about the summer job you secured, and he tells you and JJ about Sarah Cameron and her new boy-toy Topper. JJ says he’s “biceps without a brain” when you ask which one Topper is.

“That can’t be his real name,” you snort.

“Oh, it is,” John B replies.

“His name is almost as dumb as he is,” JJ sniggers.

There’s the sound of chewing and swallowing.

“Two official weeks into summer,” John B randomly announces.

You quirk a brow. “Two weeks since I came back to Kildare.”

JJ holds his cup of soda up in a toast. John B wipes his mouth and raises his own, as do you. The three of you clink cups, smiling at the stupidity. As you bring your cup to your lips to drink, you find your eyes meeting JJ’s across the table. He holds your gaze as he sips, swallows and licks his lips of the sugar. You feel it hit somewhere deep, deep inside of you. JJ looks back to John B and starts recounting his tales of the day fishing, leaving you stumped.

What the hell was that?

~*~*~*~*~*~*

As your days in Kildare stretch on, your imagination becomes your most loved and loathed place all at once.

The Pogues had taken you under their wing without a second thought. It felt as if it wasn’t just because you were John B’s younger sister. Kiara would spend hours talking to you about music and star signs. Pope would discuss books and artists that he’d read about, falling into a huge debate about whether Andy Warhol is as legendary as everyone makes him out to be (the answer is, of course, yes). You and John B connected as brother and sister, filling that hole of ‘family’ that had been taken from both of you within the past year. Movie nights sharing popcorn and critiquing corny horror films, and mornings spent tending to the yard and fishing at the jetty: you felt yourself coming back bit by bit, in the company of the brunette.

But spending time with the Pogues came with spending more time with JJ. That little childhood crush that you’d claimed had succumb a long, undisturbed slumber…Oh, she had been awoken. Him staying over more and more on the pull-out when him and his dad ‘got into a thing’ meant the throw pillows smelt like his cologne and soap. He’d offer you his sweatshirt when sat around the bonfire on evenings drinking, and the warm distinct smell of him would consume you, drown you in the pheromones, affecting you like some pathetic animal in heat. Days spent surfing and sunbathing at the break gave you space to shamelessly ogle his bare chest, splattered in sea water, scorched and tanned with sunlight. The ripple of his lats when wearing his useless muscle tees as he waxed his board in the surf shack. His jawline strong and steely when annoyed or focused, with faint blonde stubble a week after shaving. But you swear he knew how it affected you. Swear he knew it drove you crazy whenever he’d fleetingly touch your back, brushing past you in the kitchen to grab a drink, or adjust your grip when helping him fix up his bike. When sharing a blunt on the porch (as you often did when sleep couldn’t come), he’d take his time passing it to you, fingers brushing. Innocent, incidental touches that felt calculated and planned. The way his eyes would gaze into yours, like he could read your thoughts and decipher your wants. A vague, barely-there smirk to his lips, constantly tortured by his tongue and teeth…

God, your whole body feels as if it has been on fire for the past week.

You blame your overactive thoughts of JJ on your boredom. Working at the restaurant hadn’t been sufficient distraction from the mess that is your life right now. Even now, as you stand before the till, typing through an order for the kitchen and bar, you feel your mind wandering. To thoughts of the Chateau, and to a certain blonde-haired guy sprawled on the pull-out sofa, shirtless, back on proud display…

“You gonna be much longer?”

“No, I shouldn’t be,” you say to Tom.

You hope your embarrassment doesn’t read on your face. It’s not as if he could hear your thoughts, so you’re not sure why you feel caught in the act. You finish selecting the sides for table 16 and press ‘store table’. Stepping to the side to grab some side plates, Tom takes over the till.

He’s nice. Makes you laugh a lot at work, as you slander rude tables and gush over those that tip an extra twenty.

After depositing the side plates at the table, you head to the bar to run the drinks you put through. Lizzy is mixing the cocktail you ordered. She pours rum into a shaker and then passionfruit puree.

“Can I ask you something?” you say to her.

She glances over. The two of you had gotten closer at work. You were hoping to hang out with her one time down at the beach, or maybe grab lunch after a morning shift. She runs a hand over her buzzcut hair style and nods.

“Do you think there’s such a thing as bad thoughts?”

“Bit deep to be asking that at eight o’clock at night, don’t you think?” she smirks.

You roll your eyes. As she goes on making the cocktail, you elaborate. “I have this dumbass crush on this guy which I know I shouldn’t have…I just feel bad for thinking about him so much.”

“Well, that’s dumb,” she snorts.

There’s the loud rattle of ice against stainless steel as Lizzy shakes the cocktail. Then, as she strains it into a martini glass, she looks up at you once more.    

“Who’s this guy? Do I know him?”

“Maybe.”

Her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Is it Tom?”

And, no, it isn’t Tom, but maybe saying it is means she won’t keep digging. You’d rather keep your embarrassing years-long infatuation with your brother’s best friend close to the chest. So, you do your best to look meek as you nod.

“Holy shit! Well, if it makes you feel better, he’s totally into you,” Lizzy tells you.

“He is?”

“Hell yeah. Guy practically ogles you across the room,” she says.

You glance over to Tom. He’s stood before a table, talking away, scribbling down their order on a notepad. At the feeling of being watched, he looks up and meets your gaze. You flash him a small smile and he mirrors it quickly before returning his focus to the task at hand.

“So, do you?”

“Think there’s such a thing as bad thoughts?” Lizzy checks. You nod. She ponders the question whilst garnishing the cocktail. “No. No, I think only actions talk. I mean, I think bad things all the time about customers who are dicks. I could put glass in their drinks: that’d show them sort of thing. But I don’t actually put glass in their drinks, so I’m off the hook. Nobody’s the wiser.”

It’s a somewhat extreme example but it gets the point across. You take the tray and nod.

“I mean, maybe fantasising about it might be cathartic. Get it out your system, you know?” Her sly wink speaks volumes as to what these ‘fantasies’ are about. You roll your eyes.

“Thank you for your advice, Lizz. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Anytime sunshine.”

With that, you walk over table 16 and deliver their drinks. The rest of the shift passes by rather quickly. You end up making a bet with Tom that you can sell more pints of larger than him and come up victorious, leaving work with an extra ten dollars in your pockets.

The streets are painted sunset purple, orange and pink. You spot John B’s campervan, known as The Twinkie, in the parking lot; he’d promised to pick you up after work tonight. But as you walk up to the passenger side, you realise it’s JJ behind the wheel. You’re not sure if the feeling of your organs shrinking is a good thing or a bad thing.

“Where’s John B?” you ask, climbing in beside him.

“Nice way to say, ‘hi JJ, it’s so good to see you!’”

“Okay, hi JJ,” you say, rolling your eyes. He starts the engine. “Now, where’s my brother?”

“He had to go do something for Cameron.”

“At ten at night?”

“Dude, I just work here, a’right? I do as he says so he lets me stay on his sofa,” JJ says. You laugh.

The radio kicks on and ‘Downtown Lights’ starts to play. You look out the window as he drives, watching the houses fade into overgrow and trees.

“Hey, you hungry?”

“Starved.”

“We can swing by a Wendy’s on the way home, if you wanna,” JJ says.

You smile as you look over to him, nodding. With that, he takes the next left and the two of you make your way in comfortable silence to the drive through. At the worker’s request, JJ recounts his order: two hamburgers, both with cheese, one without pickles. Oh and a large Pepsi.

As he pulls forward to pay, you say, “you remembered I don’t like pickles?”

He glances over to you like you’re stupid for even asking. “Course.”

Food secured, Pepsi in the cupholder for you both to share, you start the journey to the Chateau.

“Feed me a fry?”

You laugh and oblige. It’s the least you can do, considering he bought you takeout, after all. You turf one out the brown paper bag and hold up to his lips. His breath fans against your fingers as he takes it. Chews and swallows. You managed to tear your eyes away. That man could yawn and you’d be mesmerised, you swear. It’s pathetic.

“Thanks.”

“Course.”

The ride back is over way too soon. You take what’s left of your food and your bag, opening the door. “You staying over tonight?”

JJ contemplates a moment before shaking his head. He studies his hands as they run up and over the steering wheel when he says, “no. No, I gotta go home sometime.”

“Right,” you quietly say. The last fight him and his dad got in was ugly. He came over, shaking with anger, a purple bruise forming under his eye. It scared the shit out of you to let him go back there alone. “Well, thanks for the food.”

JJ looks up from the steering wheel and takes you in. His lips move, like he wants to say something, but he seems to abandon the thought. You take it as your cue to leave.

“See you soon.”

“Yeah. See you soon, Little Routledge.”

You hate that nickname. The resentment is thick to swallow as you say goodnight, stepping out the van.

John B isn’t home when you walk into the Chateau. The lights are off, dirty dishes piled up in the sink. The sofa bed is unmade from the last time JJ slept on it. You contemplate crashing on it for the night, just so you can feel as if you’re near to him, but you know that’s insane. If John B were to find you there, he’d only be concerned that something was wrong with your own room, either way. So you trundle back to your bedroom and strip out of your uniform. Makeup rinsed off and teeth brushed, you crawl into bed and drift off easily.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

His lips are hot and wet on your skin, kissing down your stomach. Your breathing’s laboured like you’re fighting an adrenaline rush. He seems to notice, laughing darkly against your tummy.

“So wound up already and I’ve barely touched you,” JJ croons in his southern drawl.

Your eyes slip shut, fighting back a whimper as his fingers dip teasingly into the waistband of your panties. A moan finally lets slip at the sensation of his lips pressing against your crotch, over the cotton.

“You want it?”

“Please,” you whisper.

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

“Yes, JJ, please.”

It’s embarrassing to beg but you don’t have much left in your mind other than thoughts of him to even care.

Fingers knotting into his hair, you try and coax him lower still. And he obliges. Drags your panties down your legs like time is a luxury. You wonder if he likes teasing you; if it brings him pleasure like the feeling of his hands on your body does for you. He leans back on his haunches and runs his palms up and down your thighs, staring at you exposed pussy. His shark tooth necklace sits against his toned chest and you’re jealous of how close it gets to be to him.

“Fuck,” JJ groans as you open your legs.

He leans back down and nuzzles your inner thigh, pressing a sharp kiss with his teeth, sucking in the skin and relishing your pleasured yelp. It feels as if he’s marking you as he leaves the hickey: mine.

“Been dreaming ‘bout this.”

Before you can let out another pathetic plea, JJ situates himself between your legs and goes down on you. Eats you out like a man who’s been lost at sea, like a man starved. Sighs at the taste of you on his tongue, kissing at your thighs as if to catch his breath, dragging you closer and closer to the edge. The damp of his tongue laps at your clit and your legs lock around him in a vice. He’s indefatigable, insatiable and…it’s too much.

“I can’t,” you whine hopelessly. Your fingers grasp at the sheets, eyes clenched shut.

“Come on,” JJ preens. “Wanna see you come.”

He leans close to your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth, and slips a finger into your seeping hole. Your orgasm comes like waves crashing over splintered rocks; breathing jagged and vision blurring behind eyelids. Somewhere in the euphoric haze you cry out his name. Flashes of colour blending into a mercurial high as he works you through your ecstasy, unrelenting.

You gasp awake.

Had you been sleeping?

Your forehead is damp with sweat, throat parched and chest heaving. Anyone would have thought you’d have just sprinted three miles. When you sit up in bed, you register the pulsing between your legs and the telltale stickiness of your thighs.

Shit. Good thing there’s no such thing as bad thoughts.

Wiping at your face, your skin feels red hot. You venture to the bathroom and drink water from the faucet. Making eye contact with yourself is too hard right now, considering you just had the most incredible wet dream about your brother’s best friend. Now that the high is passing, you’re overcome with shame and guilt. You’re delusional. Maybe you should submit yourself to be sectioned. Would be a good way to kill some of these summer weeks…

Heading back to bed feels like returning to the scene of a crime. Instead, you head out onto the porch, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. John B’s a deep sleeper, you’ve come to learn. You’ve never heard him get up in the night, in all your moments of insomnia. There’s no risk of crossing paths with him out here.

Stepping out onto the paint-peeled floorboards, you notice he forgot to turn off the porch light when he came home. Great, I guess I know where my wage is going. But as you head to your favourite red armchair, ready to gaze out at the marsh and watch the waterside plants dance in the breeze, you freeze.

JJ’s on the sofa. And he’s awake. You can tell just from where you’re stood.

Before you can flee back to your room, the floorboard creaks. JJ jolts up and looks around, eyes landing on you. You swallow. The moment you lay eyes on him, part of your dream comes screaming back to you. The way your voice cracked as you cried out his name, tumbling over the edge. You quickly shun away the thoughts, slamming them closed in a box, before your body can lose itself to the fantasy once more. Please God tell me that I didn’t actually scream his name.

“Hi,” you dumbly say.

“Hey.”

“I thought you were staying at your place tonight,” you say.

JJ shrugs. “Change of plans, I guess.”

“Oh.”

He looks back ahead at the armchair, back to you, and you can’t help but pull a face akin to holy shit what the fuck do I do? When he holds up a joint, you decide to stay. Panties are just the same as a bikini anyway, and he’s seen you in those. You make sure to wear your cutest ones when he’s surfing with you. The ones that are tight in all the right places and hug your figure in a way that you wished he would. Oh my God, shut up. You wordlessly take the joint as you quickly step past him, planting yourself in the armchair. You pull your legs up and sit atop of them, taking a long drag to try and calm your racing mind and heart. Inspecting the floor seems a good thing to do, suddenly. The divots in the wood from worms and the strips of paint. Looking up, you find JJ’s eyes trained on your legs. His gaze diverts when you lean forward, offering him the blunt again. As he lifts himself to take it, you see him wince, and now in the light of the porch, fully taking him in you, you can make out the bloody cut beside his eye.

“Jesus Christ, JayJ.”

“It’s fine,” he reflexively says. He takes another hit. “Just need some self-medication.”

“Bullshit. You need to clean that thing ‘fore it gets infected.”

“Be my guest,” JJ scoffs.

With that, you get to your feet and head back into the house. The first aid kit is under the bathroom sink. It’s probably the least dusty thing in the whole room. Returning to him, you forget all about the reason that you got up in the first place and shove it to the back of your mind. This was more important than worrying about some dumb dream. Shoving his legs off the couch, you force him to make space for you. You place the first aid kit on your lap and open it. JJ keeps smoking. The smell of weed clouds your senses. Picking out a disinfectant wipe, you turn to him.

“This’ll sting,” you say, opening the packet.

“That’s what she said.”

You frown. “What kind of kinky ass sex are you having?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he grins.

For a moment dread drops down your body, chilling your spine. Did he hear you? No, no he couldn’t have. You probably didn’t make a noise. He’s just being his usual, salacious self.

You take his jawline in hold gently between your fingers. The bone is hard beneath the soft of his skin; fine stubble scratches your fingertips. Leaning up, you try not to get distracted in his eyes as you dab at the cut. You apologise as he hisses. It doesn’t look as intimidating when clean of blood, which is more than a relief. You dip back into the first aid kit and offer up two band aids. One is plain nude and the other Hello Kitty.

“Take your pick.”

He rolls his eyes with a small smile and grabs the Hello Kitty one, holding it out to you. You shift onto your knees, bending over him to plant it over his cut. You notice a bruise forming on his cheek bone on the other side, and a cut lip. You should have insisted he stayed over when he dropped you off. He looks up, as if he can hear your thoughts, and meets your gaze. You can’t seem to find it in yourself to move away.

“It’s not your fault,” he quietly says.

You swallow. It’s scary how easy he can read you. Makes you worry what other thoughts he can tell from your face. “Wished you just stayed here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hate the thought of you going back to that house.”

“That’s sweet,” he smiles. “But if I didn’t go, I wouldn’t have you here taking care of me.”

“Oh, was it all part of your masterplan?” you joke, finding your smile again. His seems to grow at the sight.

“Something like that.”

When his lips press to yours, you’re taken aback. It feels like fire, searing hot, and you flinch like you’ve been burnt. You gape at him, wide eyed, and it seems to register what he’s just done. You both move to put as much space between you as possible, as if trying to keep the blaze from spreading.

“Shit, I—”

“I should go back to bed,” you hurry out.

JJ nods. “Yeah, yeah. Course.”

In your scramble to get back to your feet and back in your room, the first aid kit falls to the floor, the contents spilling out. You cuss and drop to your knees, rushing to retrieve all the clutter. JJ joins you, passing you gloves and bandages. You find some nerve to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says. The sincerity in his voice…It’s painful.

“It’s okay. I don’t…It isn’t…”

You sigh. Your speech is just as messed as your mind. Closing your eyes, gathering your words, you take a deep breath. Looking back to JJ, you shake your head.

“We can’t.”

“I know,” he replies, almost sadly. Nods once more. “Yeah, I know. I’m just…high. And tired.”

“Right. Course.”

And whilst his excuses should sting, they don’t, because you don’t believe them. JJ smokes enough weed to not be affected all that much by half a joint. But you don’t argue. Instead, you close the box and go to head inside. You stop in the doorway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say.

You spare him one last glance. He’s on the floor, head hung and back to you, and you consider staying. But you don’t. You go straight to bed, acting as if a fresh start tomorrow will reset the entire thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the morning, JJ’s gone. John B doesn’t seem to have even realised he’d stayed over. You find your older brother in the kitchen, washing up the dirty dishes. Swiping up a towel, you come to help.

“Hey. Sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “You?”

“Like a rock,” he grins. “You still up for that keggar tonight, at the boneyard?”

“Oh shit, that’s tonight?”

“Yeah. All the others are going,” John B says.

“Yeah, I’ll go. I think I’m catching a ride with Lizzy from work.”

“Alright. Just stay safe.”

“I will,” you drawl. He smiles at you before turning back to the washing up. “Hey, John B?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For letting me stay here.”

“Yeah, course,” he says. He pauses his handy work, turning his attention to you. “You’ve always got a bed to crash on here, even if child services are up my ass.”

“I appreciate it. I really needed to get out of Colorado.”

The seven missed calls from your mom slip into your mind. Her texts go unanswered, but she knows you read them. You don’t want her to think you’re in danger. Talking to her is just too much right now.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I needed you back too,” he says. “Things have been kinda messy since my dad…disappeared. I don’t know what I’d do if I was on my own.”

“You’re never gonna be on your own, though,” you smile. “The Pogues would do anything for you. It’s actually kinda scary.”

John B laughs at that. “Yeah, yeah, they’re, uh, not the smartest.”

“Apart from Pope,” you point out. He nods, smiling as he looks back to the soapy water.

“Yeah, apart from Pope.”

“JJ cares about you a lot,” you feel the need to add. His voice last night, apology ready, after your kiss, echoes in your mind.

“I know. I feel like you two are the best things in my life right now,” John B admits. The guilt multiples by tenfold with that. You fix your face when he looks to you. “So, thanks.”

“No worries, big bro,” you reply, nudging his shoulder with yours.

He laughs. “Thanks, little sis.”

With that, you both continue cleaning the pots. The shame from last night gets shoved down into the deepest, darkest pit of your stomach, and you try to go about your day without sparing another thought to JJ.

On the way to the keggar, Lizzy grills you about your ‘crush’ on Tom. “He’s gonna be there tonight, I think.”

“Oh, really?” you say. You know you don’t sound enthused. It’s too much effort to pretend.

“Everything good?” she frowns, glancing away from the road.

You nod and plaster on a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just tired, I think.”

“Couple drinks in you and you’ll be wide awake, I promise,” she assures.

Nodding, you shift in your seat and look out the window. Your skirt rides up in the processes. It’s a little short but it’s so ridiculously hot tonight, you can’t seem to care. A crotchet style crop-top dresses down the outfit. You don’t want to seem like you’re trying too hard for a beachside keggar. As you pull up closer to the boneyard, cars line the roads. Lizzy finds a spot and parks. You grab the crate of Budlight and her the box of White Claw, and you hop out the car towards the beach. Her stories about work and school have brightened your mood.

She’s tall and remarkably cool in a way that you never will be. She has stick and poke tattoos on her knees and elbows, and nine piercings on one ear. Her nose ring and snake bite piercings are far from intimidating on her cherub like features. The buzzcut has been dyed neon blue, standing bright against her dark skin. As you pass groups of teens, she shouts hello to those she recognises and shares the odd bro-hug.

You add your drinks to the pile of booze before grabbing a can, cracking it open. A quick scan of the scene tells you that the Pogues are still pre-drinking at the Chateau. You’d managed to dodge JJ so far.

“This is a pretty decent turn out,” Lizzy tells you, swigging from her can.

“Know a lot of people here?”

“Sure,” she says. She points to a gaggle of polo-shirt wearing pretty boys who look like they could snap you with one finger. “Those are the gym rat kooks. That tall blonde Topper is with the princess of Figure Eight, Sarah Cameron.”

JJ was right: biceps without a brain. You watch as he shotguns a drink and cracks the can on his forehead. Sarah Cameron, blonde hair straight flowing down her back, does not look impressed.

“And her brother Rafe. That guy’s all kinds of whacked out,” Lizzy mutters. You follow her finger to spot a tall, short haired guy. He looks unapproachable, even from far away.

“Yo Lizzy!”

You both turn to find a crowd of girls and guys. One of them is waving at Lizzy and she waves back.

“Come on, I know these guys. They’re cool,” she tells you, taking your hand and guiding you over.

You’re introduced to everyone and soon enough are roped into beer pong and shots. It’s fun though. Everyone’s having a laugh, cheering each other on. You hear about some good spots to grab food and learn Michael, Lizzy’s closest friend, can drink you under the table. A few hours in and there’s a comfortable buzz to your bones. You haven’t thought about the Pogues, or JJ, or the fleeting kiss all night. As you laugh along to one of Michael’s soccer stories, someone taps you on the shoulder. You turn around to come face to face with Tom.

“Hey,” you smile, squiffy.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“Yeah, I came with Lizzy.”

“Hey, Tom,” she smiles before sending you a more than suggestive look. Oh, shit. The lie. “Hey, why don’t you go get my girl a top up?”

Before you can contest, she’s taking your half full can out of your hand and coaxing you away with an assuring smile. Tom takes it in stride and walks with you to the coolers. He grabs two cans of beer, passing one to you, and you cheers him.

“How you finding Kildare?”

“Good.”

“Yeah? You been hanging with John B’s crowd, right?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” you smile, nodding. He makes a face before taking a drink. You frown. “What?”

“Nah, nothing. They’re just kinda…well, I mean, some people think they’re bad news.”

“Some people, huh?” you say cautiously.

“Just reputations and all that. Like that JJ guy. He’s got slippery fingers, if you know what I mean,” Tom says, wiggling his own in demonstration.

Suddenly this conversation is very unappealing. You glance off to Lizzy and the others. “I should probably get back to them. Thanks for the drink, though.”

“No, hey, no,” Tom says. He grabs you by the wrist. “Come on, I was being a dick. I’ve had one too many. Let’s just hang, alright? I really wanna get to know you.”

You look between him and Lizzy and sigh. Taking a swig, you shrug. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tick you off.”

“I like the Pogues. They’re a good group,” you feel the need to defend.

“No, yeah, they are!” Tom agrees. You can smell the stench of liquor on his breath. “I just don’t want you to get corrupted by them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just, you’re new here—”

“And so I’m clueless on how to judge people?” you finish sardonically.

Tom rolls his eyes and it makes your anger tick. “Come on, you don’t gotta be a bitch about this.”

“What did you just call me? You know what? Forget it,” you scoff, snatching your arm away from his hold. “Have fun drinking on your own.”

But you don’t get very far before he’s grabbing at you again. “Calm down, would you? Just gimme—”

“Let go!” you demand.

His grip only tightens. The strong front you’re putting on begins to crumble under the panic of this guy is way bigger than me.

“Just quit bitching and we can talk,” he says harshly.

“I don’t want to talk. Now please let go of me,” you firmly return.

He doesn’t let go. Keeps chattering away, insisting that you have to hear him out.

“Let go, Tom!”

“Everything good here?”

Your wide eyes look away from Tom and land on JJ, and your whole body relaxes. He’s looking at you and the panic must read clear on your face because his demeanour changes in a split second. Jaw tight, he turns to Tom.

“I think you should let go, man.”

“You think I’m gonna listen to you?” Tom scoffs.

JJ takes another step towards him. He towers over Tom by enough to be intimidating. “Think you should listen to her.”

“Oh, I get it,” Tom snarls. He lets go of you and you can feel your skin breathing. You rub at the pink marks, easing the sting. Tom gets into JJ’s face, undeterred from a fight. “You wanna keep John B’s sloppy sister for yourself, huh?”

JJ’s fist flies at Tom’s face, making an ugly, visceral sound as it lands on his left cheek. You gasp. Nearly knocked off balance, Tom stumbles on the sand. The commotion has drawn in somewhat of a crowd. Before you can intervene, Tom’s throwing hands. He aims an upper cut to JJ’s jaw but he’s quick to dodge, landing his own punch instead by Tom’s eyebrow. That one seems to deter him. He trips backwards. The chanting of the crowds egging it on makes you feel sick. You’d just finished patching JJ up last night, and you’ve seen his anger before. It takes control quickly and blinds him to reason. The last thing he needs is to wind up in a cell. So, before he can land another hit, you’re stepping forward and grabbing at his arm, stopping him.

“Come on, let’s just go,” you say pleadingly.

His chest is heaving with anger, breathing short and jaw heavy set and tense. He hesitates, looking between yourself and Tom. He’s still cradling his last hit, trying to regain his composure. Sighing, JJ lets you lead him away. Tom’s heckling is laced with slurs directed at you, and you have to keep a steady grip on JJ to keep him from going back.

“He’s not worth it, JayJ,” you mutter.

“You’re so wrong,” JJ darkly returns, but he doesn’t go back.

Away from the beach, back on the road, you let go. He paces for a moment, trying to calm himself. Tugs off his cap and rakes his fingers through his hair, breathing deep and slow. You don’t speak: just let him go through the motions. Babying him through this isn’t going to help anyone.

Whilst violence isn’t the answer to anything, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t grateful for JJ’s help.

Letting him cool off, you take a seat on one of the fallen tree trunks.

“Hey.”

Looking up, JJ walks over. He’s mostly back to himself.

“You okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No. Just freaked me out a bit. He’s not usually like that. He’s just drunk.”

“Like that’s an excuse,” JJ scoffs. He takes the spot next to you, sitting worryingly close.

The culmination of last night and tonight makes your head spin. The effects of the alcohol vanished the moment Tom took a hold of you. Now you just want to forget the whole thing.

“Wanna get out of here?” JJ asks.

You turn your head to face him and smile smally, nodding.

“Come on. I brought my bike.”

His red bike is parked beside the Twinkie. He climbs on first and offers a hand to help you onto the back. Your arms slot around his middle, circling around his taught chest, pressing yourself against him. Face resting on the middle of his back, you try not to inhale the smell of him. It might be too much for tonight. His calloused hands on yours have you shifting your hold, ensuring your tight against him like a backpack.

“Good?”

“Good,” you quietly reply.

He kicks off the stand and starts up the engine. You pull away from the keggar and up the road, zipping down the isolated streets. There’s nobody around at this time. Not a soul in sight. It feels so right, wrapped up against him like this, safe in his presence. Tom was wrong: JJ wasn’t bad news. Sure, he was a klepto, but he was the same guy who learnt how to sew to fix your favourite pair of shorts when you were little. The same guy who stepped up when some dirtbag was harassing you. The same guy who remembered you don’t like pickles on your burgers. Who looked at your paintings as if they were Picasso.

Somewhere along the ride, one of JJ’s hands comes to rest on your own. You don’t ask why and don’t pull away. Just let the reassuring weight of his hand on yours stay there and ground you to him like an anchor. Here, flying through the night, you can pretend like all the other shit doesn’t matter. It’s just you and him.

He starts onto a dirt track, slowing down, and a house emerges. Pastel yellow painted exterior hidden behind porch netting. There’s clutter of engines and fishing gear amongst surfing supplies. He pulls to a stop and kicks on the stand, turning off the engine. It’s quiet now, without its rumble. “Your dad home?” you can’t help but ask, staring at the front door.

JJ shakes his head. “No. He’s out on Friday nights. Kinda the only routine he has.”

You don’t ask where and he doesn’t expand. You step off the bike and watch as he clambers off too. Fixing your skirt, you wait for him to talk. He doesn’t. “I should probably head back,” you say. You’re not entirely sure why you came to his place instead. You’d assumed when you got on the bike that he’d take you back the Chateau.

“I mean, we can share a joint first if you want. Help you calm down and stuff, after that shitshow,” JJ half-chuckles.

There’s something heavy in the humid air. It’s hard to describe, hard to place, but you can feel it like static electricity. You find yourself nodding. He nods too and starts up to the house, hands in his black short pockets. You watch his feet sink into the grass and guide your eyes up his figure. His shoulders are tense, dressed under a thin t-shirt. He ditches his cap on the kitchen counter when you walk through the door. Through the house, past the neglection, and to his bedroom. He flicks on the light and clears his throat as he goes to his desk drawer.

You stand, leaning against his door until it clicks closed, and look around his room. There’s a world map pinned to the wall but no markings on it asides from one: Kildare, North Carolina. Print outs of palm trees and pressed, framed butterflies and leaves seem less innocent when placed between posters of models on the beach. The floor is a mess of dirty clothes and empty beer cans. Several dead vapes litter near the overflowing bin, and cigarette and joint buds scatter the windowsill and beside table. But the smell of JJ hangs strong in the air; it makes you smile to yourself.

“Alright,” JJ sighs. The desk drawer slams closed and he turns around, holding up a fresh joint and lighter. His initials are scratched into the metal: JJ. He sits on the bed and places the blunt between his lips, flicking at his lighter. You watch him take a drag and take it off him when he offers it over.

No words are shared as you pass the bud for several minutes. You both glance around the room, at the floor, at the ceiling, anywhere but each other.

“How’s your face?”

“Huh?” he asks, finally meeting your eyes.

You nod to his cheek. “Your cut from the other night?”

“Oh, right,” he mumbles. He lifts a finger and strokes it absentmindedly. “It’s alright.”

“Good.”

JJ hands you the joint again, you take a drag, you pass it back to him. That same feeling from earlier, when you first climbed off the bike, has only amplified.

“So…”

You brave clearing the distance between you. You take the spot next to him on the bed.

“We gonna talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about?” JJ deflects, studying the floor.

“Well, you kissed me,” you eventually reply, taking the joint back. “So, there’s that.”

“I already told you,” he sighs. “I was tired and doped up.”

When you say nothing, he looks up at you. "What? You think I'm lying?"

You take a drag. Shrugging, you honestly reply, “yeah, a little.”

He holds your gaze as if challenging you to back down. You don’t. Beating around the bush won’t help anything here, and its obvious you can’t go back to acting like it didn’t happen. You can’t move past it until you know why he did.

“S’just weird,” JJ mutters, looking away. “What happened last night, with me and you. S’just weird.”

“Yeah, it was weird for me too,” you agree. Swallowing, you take another hit. “But not bad weird, right?”

JJ’s head lifts once more. His eyes flash across your face like he’s searching for some kind of trap. He sucks his teeth in contemplation. “No. Not bad weird.”

Your heart stutters, breathing shaky and unsure. You feel your eyes dart down to his strawberry pink lips, and his to yours. But then he’s shaking his head. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know…” you breathe. You’re transfixed on his lips. Can’t move away, can’t bring yourself too. The blunt in your fingers is burning away, ash dropping to the floor, but you don’t care. All of it, everything but JJ, is white noise.

The moment you flit your eyes up to his, something shifts in him. His jaw ticks as he clenches it. Your brows pull in thought but there’s no time for you to ask.

“Fuck it.”

His lips are on yours within a breadth. He consumes your senses like a drug, dulling down anything else until all your thoughts are on him. He grabs for the blunt in your fingers, haphazardly putting it on the bedside table, and then his hands are sliding up along your sides, up your back, into your hair. One finds purchase on your cheek, and you rest your jaw in his hold like a bird settled in its favourite branch. The way he holds you like you’re something holy is different to how sinful his kiss is. It’s pure passion: raw, animalistic heat from weeks of build-up. And, God, it feels so right. The way his tongue brushes against yours, warm in your mouth, heavy in your head. The nip of his teeth on your lips and the fanning of his breath when he has to break for air. You’ve never been kissed like this before, not by anyone. It’s dizzying.

Until it isn’t, and he’s pulling away. His forehead rests against your own. You’re both panting. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he says.

You slide a hand up his neck, tracing his jawline with your fingers. He practically melts under your touch, eyes slipping shut. “I know,” you whisper distractedly. Your thumb traces his lower lip. It’s swollen from your kisses.

He blinks his eyes open. “I’m serious. He can’t know.”

“He won’t,” you say, going to reconnect your lips.

But JJ stops you. “No, he can’t. He’d…God, he just can’t.”

You want to cry, seeing the moral dilemma weigh on JJ, feeling you share the burden. But the thought of walking away from this, of not feeling every inch of him, of never hearing him fall apart, makes you want to sob.

“Maybe just one time,” you murmur. Your finger traces down his chin, along the centre of his neck. “And we can just get it out of our system.”

“Yeah,” JJ mumbles. “Yeah, one time.”

“Yeah?”

You meet his gaze. His pupils are dilated, heavy with lust, and you feel your body ignite. “Touch me, please.”

With that simple mark of consent, JJ’s unchained. He doesn’t hold back when your lips reconnect. Somehow it becomes deeper, rougher, better. It’s such a strange oxymoron, the way he touches you and kisses you. You pull away to remove your crop top, and he takes the moment to strip off his shirt. The two of you are shameless as you take in the other. Reaching out a hand, you run your fingers up his chest in the way that you’ve imagined so many times before. It’s funny how in your head, you’ve already done it. His eyes dip down, watching your hands explore. You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his left pectoral, then his right. Sighing, his chest drops up and down with uneven breathes.

“So pretty,” you say through your kisses.

His fingers tether into your hair. There’s a slight tug that sends ripples of pleasure through your body in ways that it shouldn’t as he pulls you away, guiding your lips back to him. As he crawls atop of you, you inch up the bed, skirt riding up. You settle on our back. JJ’s greedy in his touch. Strokes your skin, explores your body, like it’s his own. And in a way it is because you’d give him anything if he asked. When his fingers slip behind your back, searching for the clasp of your bra, you lift yourself onto your elbows. He holds your gaze as he unfastens it, guiding it off your shoulders, helping it off your arms.

“Fuck,” he sighs.

A smile teases at your lips. It takes a certain type of guy to make you blush at the sound of his curses. Your head rocks back, eyes sinking closed, as his lips latch around your nipple. A hand palms at the skin, teasing your breast, exploring your reactions. You sigh out your pleasure, bringing a hand up to mess with his hair. It’s better than you imagined. Tops every fantasy, every wet dream, every sinful thought. And it’s only just begun.

“So fucking sexy,” JJ groans, kissing up your body until he finds your lips.

You don’t want him away from you. He looms over you, encasing you in the safe, consuming feeling of his presence, trapping you in the smell of his cologne and soap that you’ve tried so desperately to avoid. Through the kisses and love bites marked into necks and collarbones, you feel one of his hands ghost the outline of your figure. Traces down so slowly like you might not even notice. Down, down, to your panties. It’s there that he sweeps over your cotton covered mound. You sigh against his lips in anticipation.

“I know you’ve been thinking ‘bout this,” JJ says.

His voice is just as you pictured it: deep and crooning, his Southern accent at forefront. You want to bottle it like brandy and drink it until you black out. His lips work down your neck as he lightly circles your clit over your panties and you can’t stop your moan.

“I heard you, the other night.” Your eyes shoot open. JJ meets your gaze. He’s dying, the desperation clear as day on his face. His eyes themselves could send him straight to hell. There’s the shadow of a smirk.

“Were you thinking of me, whilst you were getting off?”

You go to push him away. The last thing you need is for him to tease you about it and make fun. But he doesn’t let you. Instead, he kisses just below your ear.

“Cause I think about you. Every night since you’ve been back. Can’t jack off to anything else,” he confesses into the crux of your ear. Your only reply is a small, surprised gasp. Your body’s ablaze with his words.

His fingers finally dip below your panties, sliding between your soaking folds. He groans at the sensation and you feel your legs give way. He works at you for a while, toying with you like it’s a side hobby. You’re only half aware of the sounds you make. One of your hands has situated itself on his upper back, nails scratching at the skin. JJ can’t seem to keep his mouth shut. It’s one blasphemy after another, and it drives you deeper and deeper into the abyss. He seems to become impatient. He removes fingers to push your underwear down. You kick them off at the ankles with a small giggle.

The moment his finger sinks into you, you swear you’ve seen heaven. JJ worships you, taking his time to inch you closer and closer to the edge. Another finger, then another. The stretch is heaven. Your back arches off the bed, mouth agape, brain dumb with pleasure. He won’t be quiet. He whispers praises into your ear. Narrates his own fantasies he’s harboured about you. Know you’ve been teasing me with those tiny bikinis. I wish I fucked you on the porch the other night. The moment his thumb swipes over your clit, you know you’re close. And then he’s bending his fingers just slightly, hitting that spot. You abandon all religion: this is the only type of prayer you need.

JJ has the audacity to laugh as you climax. You grasp uselessly at his body, the bedsheets, anything. You use a shaky hand to push his fingers away, overstimulated, and he finally relents. Starts kissing at your neck like a Goddamn vampire.

“That good, huh?”

You can’t really formulate words. You just drag his face to yours, kissing him senseless. When you inevitably part for breath, JJ leans back. He pinches your chin between two fingers, gnawing at his lower lip, and parts your lips for him. Your body pulses at the submissiveness he’s placed you under. Then his used fingers are slipped into your mouth. You close your lips around them, holding his gaze as you suck them clean. The salty distinct taste is unfamiliar but not necessarily unpleasant. He gives a small laugh, like he’s in disbelief.

“Fuck. Why did we wait so long to do this?”

You pull his hand free, taking grip on his shoulders. Pushing him against his bedroom wall, you move to straddle him. His hands fall onto your hips. Somewhere in your heady make-out, you rock yourself back on him. JJ groans; his head knocks back against the wall. He’s rock hard. It must be torture. You shuffle off him to make room to pull his shorts off. They join the mess of clothes on the floor. The tip leaks precum, straining painfully. You go to jack him off but JJ stops you.

“I won’t last,” he admits, half-embarrassed.

You nod, biting back your smile. “You got protection?”

“Top drawer,” he says, nodding to the bedside table.

You lean over and dig about before finding a condom. You come back, tear it open, and gently slide it over him. He lets out a shuddering breath at your touch, eyes clenched shut in concentration. It makes you feel slightly guilty for letting him indulge you for so long, but this will pay it back.

Straddling him once more, you steady yourself with one hand on either shoulder. His find home on your hips once more, and he helps you line up. Then you slowly sink down onto him. The stretch stings despite the earlier efforts. Head hanging forward, mouth falling open in silent moans, eyes clenching shut, you take him in. JJ’s mumbling praises, eyes transfixed on where you connect, spurring you on. Taking me so good. Jus’little more. You rock against him, using whatever energy you have to ride him. He helps guide you, head resting against the wall. You love that he isn’t quiet. Love that you’re on top and can see every ripple of pleasure course through him, reflect on his face. But when his eyes slip shut, you take a hand and guide his face to yours. Pressing your forehead against him, you lean forward and steady yourself with a hand on his chest. The new angle is euphoric. You moan and whine against his lips, eyes staring into his own. It’s the most hideously lewd symphony as the two of you chase your highs. There’s only one thought in your mind. And when JJ comes unannounced, shuddering as he finishes, never looking away from your eyes, only one thought is in your mind.

If it can only happen this once, it has to be perfect...

to be continued (part 2 will be released later this week)

#jj #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #obx #outer banks #obx fics #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx preference #outer banks preference #jj preference #jj maybank preference #routledge!reader #jj x routledge!reader #brothersbestfriend!jj #brothersbestfriend!jj x reader #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #fem!reader

[k00288566]

Color Seminar Thougts💭

In the color seminar it struck me that of course that color changes from ways of viweing it. On a screen and to live viewing a artwork but even then it can be altered by light and shadow and possibly mood.

I use alot of color palette works in my projects as i use photoshop a bit and the marquee tool is a handy application to get the feel of a scene or art piece to distinguish the general vibe. (See those below this entry)

The use of color to distinguish intent in the eveyday lives of people like signs on roads being yellow as that catches the eye immediatly than any other color or roads being black tarmac so white has to be used on lines on the road as a contrast.

Color is massivly important in the lives of artists and to have such easy access to color in paint and digital art is something new to this generation of artists.

This is a color pallete of the Painting Garden of Earthly Delights, a personal favorite. The contrast of colors from Eden (left) Earth (middle) and Hell (right) shows a real mastry by Hieronymus Bosch.

Another palette of a great artwork The Last Judgement by Giotto. I took these to contrast Heavan (left) and Hell (right)

And this is a pallete for the 2021 film Dune. The cinematography in the Dune is done by by well known cinematographer Greig Fraser. He gets the sci fi on a sand planet perfect.

[writer59january13]

Saturday, September 23, 2023

Coincides with first day of fall

and Autumnal equinox for said year,

where colorful splash kindled like tinder.

After I riff flecked about thee August

Autumn Equinox 2023,

this seasonal polymath teached you

fall Equinox will be Saturday,

September 23, 2023, at 2:50 AM,

in Northern Hemisphere

Eastern Daylight Time,

which spoiler alert thy

learned wordsmith (courtesy Google),

when (Our Sun) Welles

(exemplary Citizen Kane)

crosses celestial equator

i.e. (imaginary line in sheltering sky wherein pantheon of mankind Bowles above Earth's Equator

from north to south),

a barley detectable

quiet rye hit (cum on feel the noise) moment occurs.

Eyesore fissured gash – wide,

stripping crust of planet vied

where survival of fittest futilely tried to the max, viz (courtesy

badass beastie boys of Homo sapiens)

exploited, offended, and violated beholden hidebound sacred

contractually fragile important obligations

arranged marriage wedded

civilization and its discontents to Mother Earth, (more like shotgun wedding)

alarming, blaring, and clanging

sounding Doomsday Clock,

where ambivalence unheeded

trebling cleft noteworthy wound, where hide rubbed raw each betrothed nsync, didst guide

generic hominids shrugging indifference

resembling Atlas sized fountain head

scathing tragic misguided

exploitative testament writ large,

where precious resources exploited

Homo sapiens railroading, snubbing, and thumbing nose

despite flora and fauna espied

comprising onced vibrant edenic biosphere

(figuratively) asper dead

serious portentous desperate

global abuse decried

as feeble effort ignoring

inevitable demise doth decide

dismissively prophesying mocking (burdensome), whence creator cried

resplendent raiment

adorned playfully chide,

sans whirled, wide webbed biota

adorn terra firmae analogous,

quadrants expectant wedded bride

named Gaia, when (dark and Stormy Dan yells) Armageddon legatee - time ran

out for Homo sapiens meaning...

salvation to late for human fate i.e. as does wrecking,

(falling on deaf ears) plea as Mother Nature dost allied;

this observer awestruck,

knitted brows, cuz field day, sans

grim reaper will

glory in field day whar crisscrossed lovely bones

numb skulls pay fealty.

Festive gatherings of apple cider and pumpkin pie,

a distinct golden jacketed

matted palette well nigh

paints arboreal swath, sans

quiet riot of brilliant

color, that doth belie rampant terrestrial, unreal,

and venal degradation aye

temporarily turning a (third)

blind eye apathetically, blithely,

and conveniently shunting aside

empyrean découpage citadel

betokens (bespeaks) autumnal arrival

two oh fifty ante meridian

chariot of fire emblazons telltale signature,

one humble human doth

bid summer and his squandered life adieu courtesy handy dandy blue's clue flora and fauna begin

to prepare for hibernation.

Onset of harvest time witnesses

courtesy sweat of one's brow he/she doth reap (and feeling invigorated) what they did sow.

Common type of implements utilized when gathering in of crops include small sickle, big sickle,

darat, gandasa and small axe et cetera.

The hand sickle is used to harvest crops

like wheat, maize, barley, pulses and grass etc.

Big sickle (Darat) used

to harvest fodder from trees

silent whoosh of sickle

signals harvest hew and/or raking leaves, which I eschew.

Already crisp cool mornings

sun kissed mine cheek

refreshing air wafts thru longish hair

trademark characteristic property

aging pencil neck geek

attends brief bathroom charge coffee

exotic brew jolted kidneys leak

urine not kidding water closet doth reek.

Especially third season upon us mortals

Montgomery county, Pennsylvania

said geographic real estate sloughs

(i.e. sheds) summer dog days

necessitating shuddered windows

disallowing natural aeration

to circulate thru unit B44 cozy one bedroom apartment.

I will stave off clicking on the heat,

as long as possible, yet invariably come first frost

yours truly will renege

and surrender creature comfort,

albeit climate controlled temptation

similar when global warming

quite evident predicated upon

Farmers' Almanac prophetic prediction.

Though ecology minded quick acclimation to unseasonable

hot or cold temperatures

finds me adjusting thermostat dial

mainly to thwart palmar hyperhidrosis

regarding turning on air conditioning

during sweltering triple digit

(Fahrenheit) thermometer readings,

versus absent sweaty hands courtesy old man winter arctic blast.

Ah... remembrance of wood burning

stove late papa lit,

to dispense chill pervading childhood home

324 Level Road christened "Glen Elm"

within national (local registry)

when Leiper family initially occupied estate

at that time (think early twentieth century)

merely intended as summer getaway.

This time of year finds me

to reminisce and wax poetic

nostalgia more pronounced,

particularly as aspiring wordsmith

orbitz the sun seemingly

with greater rapidity

twelve months cycling at light speed

ruminating, punctuating equilibrium,

and narrating mortality

accentuated when flora and fauna

exhibit metaphorical raiment

presaging Mother Nature's fall fashion show

linkedin with approaching senescence

prompting generic garden variety Homo sapien

to rue his transience upon oblate spheroid.

Gentrification impossible mission thus thy lovely bones will subsequently

become repurposed into ashes sprinkled hither and yon to and fro across elysium fields

of happy hunting grounds.

[gertlushgaming]

Classic Racers Elite Review (PlayStation 4)

For this Classic Racers Elite, We play a game where there was a time when pilots were TRUE pilots. It was the 60's. The time of Rock'n'Roll, movie stars, and iconic cars. Drive furiously fast on gorgeous landscapes and fight against your monstrous car. A pure Time Attack game where you're driving cars from the "Gentlemen Drivers" era.

Classic Racers Elite Review Pros:

- Decent graphics. - 1.95GB download size. - 13 trophies. - Racing gameplay. - Controller settings - steer angle versus speed slider, and steering velocity. - Game settings - speed unit (mph/kmh), and automatic shifting. - Two game modes - free run, and championships. - 12 championships to unlock, with two unlocked initially. - Online leaderboards. - Each championship has a handful of events and you can freely pick which ones to play and in any order you see fit. - Four cars to drive each with their own sets of colour palette choices. It's four car types in each of the four driving categories. - End of event breakdown showing your time, goal time and the difference in time. - Good controls, they are loose but it helps getting the car drifting round corners. - Clean minimal Hud. - Three views - far, bonnet, and in car. - Reset to track button. - Really enjoyable to play. - Gets in and out without any extra guff. Here is a car and track, go beat the time. - Familiar brands with a funny spin on the name to avoid any sort of copyright.. - Auto saves after each event. - You can replay and retry events. - Simple controls and easy to learn. - Rotating mini map. - Fast loading times. - Goes for a more arcade approach in terms of crashes. - Handy restart race button. - Nineteen total tracks. - Free run is where you pick any unlocked location, a car and go for the best time. - Different event types like time attacks, and slaloms. - Great looking locations. - Four racing group of cars that increase in power and course difficulty. - Not licensed cars but they look like the originals. - Go off track too long and you reset to track. Classic Racers Elite Review Cons: - Cannot rebind controls. - The music doesn't really fit the gameplay. - Driving as said is loose but once you get used to it it actually works well. - The performance is really bad and in particular it's the screen tearing, it's constant and a real eye sore. - No way to see the controls or options once in an event. - Unrealistic crashes. - No Platinum trophy. - You seem to earn a level rank in the corner but it's never mentioned or shown when it advances. - The goal times are so tight for a majority of the events that you can't afford any mistakes. Related Post: F1 23 Review (Steam) Classic Racers Elite: Official website. Developer: Vision Reelle Publisher: Funbox Media Store Links - PlayStation Read the full article

#Indie #PlayStation4 #PlayStation5

[millerhendricks]

Tips On How To Go About Interior Design At Home

Are you interested in learning how to design your home? Well if you design the interior of your home then you are going to have the benefit of making it look the way you want it to, as opposed to hiring someone else to do it for you. Read on to learn more. If you are making decisions about changing the interior decor of your home, get your family involved. Remember that they will need to live with the changes as well. Decisions that are made should be acceptable to everyone to avoid conflict and ill feelings. Your home is the haven for each member of your family, so everyone should feel good about the changes ahead. Create Pemesanan Rumah Kayu when you are designing a home office. You will want to add lighting to your office, as well as a comfortable place to sit. Add visual interest to your work space, to make it more interesting. When redesigning a room, work to make the color scheme in the room cohesive. Having a wide variety of clashing colors will create an unpleasant feeling, and having a dull, bland palette will do the same. Use both bold and neutral colors, and work to integrate them together to create a more pleasing space. When designing for contemporary and modern spaces, integrate textures into the materials in the room. If the furniture and fixtures are heavy on smooth materials, such as glass, smooth plastics, metal and polished wood, add some textured materials to bring out details that will catch the eyes and create a more interesting space. If you are designing a new kitchen in your house, it is beneficial to contact a professional contractor. Your ideas might involve electrical and plumbing work that is beyond your scope of expertise. By contacting a professional, they can help you to outline the exact project so it is done right and within budget. If you want to add wallpaper, only do half the wall. Buying wallpaper for every room in the house adds up quickly. Create a unique look and save money by being selective when choosing areas to wallpaper. You can then apply a border and paint the balance for a striking effect. Your home will show a touch of class while your wallet takes less of a beating. If you have a husband who likes to sit and watch sports with his friends, invest in an ottoman. These devices are great to reduce the tension on the legs during a long session of watching television. Try to match the ottoman with the couch in your entertainment room for a wonderful look. Install more cabinets. Cabinets can be worked into just about any room. They are a handy fixture to have around the house. More cabinet space cuts down on clutter, and unlike more shelf space, it keeps your things out of sight. More storage space is always a handy thing to have. Try buying accessories for your home in groups of coordinated items. If you pick up a throw pillow at a department store, a lamp at a yard sale and area rug somewhere else, chances are good that they really will not match once you have them all together. Buying in sets guarantees color harmony! Plants add color, texture and interest to any interior-design project. If you don't have a green thumb, don't worry. There are many online vendors that sell artificial plants and flower arrangements. There are surprisingly realistic and lifelike specimens now available for those who don't have the time or desire to grow the real thing. Avoid clutter in your interior-design project at all costs. Whether the problem is too much furniture or too little storage, overcrowded, busy spaces need to be streamlined and simplified to function properly. It is impossible to relax in your home if the environment is as hectic and frenzied as your life. When choosing interior paint hues for the home, it is important to consider a room's amount and type of exposure to the sun. Know when the room receives the most natural light. Pick a color that give the room the brightest possible effect if you want a high energy, cheerful vibe. As time goes on and as you learn more about interior design you should feel a bit more and more comfortable with making decisions that are going to impact the look of your home. Use the information that you learned here today and see what you can use for your home.

#Galeri Rumah Kayu #Pemesanan Ruma

[vestconradsen8]

Tips On How To Go About Interior Design At Home

Are you interested in learning how to design your home? Well if you design the interior of your home then you are going to have the benefit of making it look the way you want it to, as opposed to hiring someone else to do it for you. Read on to learn more. If you are making decisions about changing the interior decor of your home, get your family involved. Remember that they will need to live with the changes as well. Decisions that are made should be acceptable to everyone to avoid conflict and ill feelings. Your home is the haven for each member of your family, so everyone should feel good about the changes ahead. Create 3d render when you are designing a home office. You will want to add lighting to your office, as well as a comfortable place to sit. Add visual interest to your work space, to make it more interesting. When redesigning a room, work to make the color scheme in the room cohesive. Having a wide variety of clashing colors will create an unpleasant feeling, and having a dull, bland palette will do the same. Use both bold and neutral colors, and work to integrate them together to create a more pleasing space. When designing for contemporary and modern spaces, integrate textures into the materials in the room. If the furniture and fixtures are heavy on smooth materials, such as glass, smooth plastics, metal and polished wood, add some textured materials to bring out details that will catch the eyes and create a more interesting space. If you are designing a new kitchen in your house, it is beneficial to contact a professional contractor. Your ideas might involve electrical and plumbing work that is beyond your scope of expertise. By contacting a professional, they can help you to outline the exact project so it is done right and within budget. If you want to add wallpaper, only do half the wall. Buying wallpaper for every room in the house adds up quickly. Create a unique look and save money by being selective when choosing areas to wallpaper. You can then apply a border and paint the balance for a striking effect. Your home will show a touch of class while your wallet takes less of a beating. If you have a husband who likes to sit and watch sports with his friends, invest in an ottoman. These devices are great to reduce the tension on the legs during a long session of watching television. Try to match the ottoman with the couch in your entertainment room for a wonderful look. Install more cabinets. Cabinets can be worked into just about any room. They are a handy fixture to have around the house. More cabinet space cuts down on clutter, and unlike more shelf space, it keeps your things out of sight. More storage space is always a handy thing to have. Try buying accessories for your home in groups of coordinated items. If you pick up a throw pillow at a department store, a lamp at a yard sale and area rug somewhere else, chances are good that they really will not match once you have them all together. Buying in sets guarantees color harmony! Plants add color, texture and interest to any interior-design project. If you don't have a green thumb, don't worry. There are many online vendors that sell artificial plants and flower arrangements. There are surprisingly realistic and lifelike specimens now available for those who don't have the time or desire to grow the real thing. Avoid clutter in your interior-design project at all costs. Whether the problem is too much furniture or too little storage, overcrowded, busy spaces need to be streamlined and simplified to function properly. It is impossible to relax in your home if the environment is as hectic and frenzied as your life. When choosing interior paint hues for the home, it is important to consider a room's amount and type of exposure to the sun. Know when the room receives the most natural light. Pick a color that give the room the brightest possible effect if you want a high energy, cheerful vibe. As time goes on and as you learn more about interior design you should feel a bit more and more comfortable with making decisions that are going to impact the look of your home. Use the information that you learned here today and see what you can use for your home.

#3d renderings

[lagycart]

espoir real eye handy palette - light peony.

espoir has really good reviews in general for their makeup products, and i really like this pinkish color combination, so i decided to get it to try.

the four colors are perfect to create an eye look, with the first color as base, the matte pink color for the outer corner of the eyes, the glitter for the middle of the eyes and the dark brown color as eyeliner. it’s very usable and really easy to apply and all the colors are really pretty too.

korean eye shadow palettes are less pigmented, and it suits my preference to have natural look. the shadows are smooth, no fallouts even for the glitter, which is a great thing. i only use fingers to blend generally, totally no fuss and very quick too.

this eye shadow palette is also on the slightly pricier side, but i feel it’s worth it because i really love the colors and the combination is just pretty and fit me very well. however, this brand is not as accessible, as there’s no official site or store in my country so far, but there’s always other retailers. if the palette is on sale, then it’s definitely worth picking it up to try of you like the colors.

#lagycart makeup #beauty #korean #kbeauty #espoir #real eye handy palette #light peony #eye shadow palette #eye shadow #pink color #glitter #shimmery #dark brown #usable #so pretty #blendable #soft #subtle #beautiful #use fingers only #no fallouts #no fuss #easy to use #pricey #worth it #travel friendly #convenient #review #pink #online shopping

[lynaiss]

My contribution for the Autumn Season of @tgtw-project​ with the Trostenwald dark ales!

There's a few CR C2 easter eggs peppered all over the piece, can you spot them? 😀

Notes about my process for this are under the cut!

I've been learning a bit about how to make my process more manageable and helpful to me, so I thought I should share! This post isn't so much a walkthrough as it is just some general ideas and techniques that work for me. Hopefully some of it gives you ideas for your own workflow too or an insight into how I approach things.

So lets start off with getting the prompt for Trostenwald ale (part of Critical Role Campaign 2 setting lore) while working on a fan project. The first thing I did was go on wiki and read up on Trostenwald in more detail to figure out what vibe and props should go into the piece. I'm mostly looking for "what" and "why" to build a scene around. 

After doing so I came up with a  rough mental checklist of things I wanted in the piece: barrels (because beer is a common produce), a fish and grains based dish (also a common produce), bottles representing the three named breweries (it is directly linked to the prompt) and a warm golden hour-like atmosphere (to convey the cozy tavern vibe I was aiming for).

Before I started on a sketch I looked at images of beer ads to get a sense of how they arrange things composition-wise and what are common props.

As I made a rough sketch I was largely concerned with the color palette and light, and some general shapes and elements of the composition, like the barrels framing some of the  bottles and foam of the drinks creating a fun pattern that guides the eye to the palest bottle. I wasn't concerned with details or prop design, just getting my idea down quickly while using all the ideas I got from my beer ad research. Note that I forgot to add a third bottle for the last brewery that we know of by name from the show. Whoops.

After having the sketch down, I realized I had no idea what kind of shadows  this type of lighting would cast or what angle would be best to show the scene, so I mocked it up in Blender. This was the first time I fully did it and it helped so much with lighting and perspective! Cycles render takes a bit to render but all the reflections and shadows it shows are very handy for realistic lighting.

3D is such a great tool and it can truly help tackling complex lighting scenarios and unusual perspectives. It's okay to not know everything; that is what reference is there for!

The Sketchfab plugin was insanely helpful in this because I could just import models other people made and adjust them - as someone who doesn't know  how to model and texture things from scratch effectively yet that saved  me so much time because I only had to nudge things around. I arranged  everything as close to my original sketch as possible and rotated the camera to find the best angle. During this I realized some things (like the barrels) would work better composition-wise in a different position so I just moved them until I got something I liked. The tankard was rotated as well because the shape its handle was creating in the sketch was overly confusing and made the eye focus on it too much.

(and I also remembered that there should be three bottles rather than two!)

With  the 3D model there to guide me and my collection of refs ever expanding, I made a much tighter sketch. I even traced some parts of the render with slight adjustments because I was content with where they were. There is actual item design now and lighting is more firmly defined. I finally added in the third bottle and figured if Trostenwald is also known for fishing to include some fishing net decor in there.

This is where the idea of adding some easter eggs as clutter started to form. I knew I needed more stuff in there to make it feel less staged and adding something fun seemed, well, fun. Spaces in real life are rarely perfectly orderly, there is always some clutter or things are at odd angles. In pieces like this finding balance between clutter and readable composition is something that can make it work as a piece and sell the atmosphere!

(yes, I forgot to add foam in the tankard...)

After this majority of planning is done and there is pretty much some 10% of work left to do but time-wise this step takes the longest because there is a lot of fine work to do. Rendering is where a  good piece can become a fantastic piece if important things are touched up properly and less important ones are touched up just enough that they do not seem "unfinished". 

I have very mixed feelings about rendering because on one hand I enjoy capturing very fine detail of various materials but on the other, a lot of the time it feels like you are making very little  progress and you're working on the piece for hours on end. It does end  up worth it in the end, though!

During this stage I made some small changes like finally adding foam to the tankard, and flipping the candle so it points the eye into the piece rather than out, along with a lot of detail work. I also finally tackled designing the beer labels. Graphic design is absolutely not my area of expertise but it was a fun challenge.

And  some 15 hours later we end up with this! I'm sure that would've been a  much lower number if I could've worked on the piece more consistently  but instead all progress was stretched over several weeks so I often struggled with getting back into the swing of it and wasted a lot of time.

I'm fairly happy with how it turned out and it made me  really push texture work, but one thing I realized I should definitely  improve on is where I put detail and how much of it. Quite a ways into  painting the background I realized it had a ton of visual information  and was competing a lot with the focal points (the bottles and glasses),  and then when I reduced the contrast a lot of the detail I spent hours  working on got lost - wasted. I easily could've been looser and avoided  the entire issue to begin with. Finishing this piece provided me with a roadmap to further improvement and I don't think I would've spotted my weakness if I haven't completed the work on this.

A note that I didn't know where to put - through the entire painting process I kept adding more references because there are always things that I need more visual info on and know that I won't do my best off the top of my head. No matter how  many times I draw something, I only retain 20% of the actual information and need refs to get it right. 

By the end of it, I ended up with a reference board that looked something like this. I often keep several images for items or materials that are important so I can spot as many features of it as possible.

If someone got this far and is still reading, here is some technical info: I probably spent around 25 hours working on this piece, not counting putting together a Blender scene. That one probably took another 8 because I'm still very slow at using the program. I did all of my painting with Wacom Intuos graphics tablet, in Clip Studio Paint, with 2 custom brushes.

#tgtw #tgtw project #critical role #critical role fanart #Illustration #my art #lynart

[rajinedgeofdarkness]

Quetzal is Ian’s Curacurl familiar/furry companion. Curacurls are 6-legged, alien, mood cats. I took a lot of inspiration from real life kitties and pop culture felines (ie Kipo from KATWB, a FF monster, our cat, lynxes, bobcats, pallas cats, and snow leopards). These creatures change their fur color based on mood….purple = charging up; brown = default, calm; blue = sad; red = angry; green = sick Thank you @art_mattie for the help with the final color palette. Caracurls use their claws, teeth, and kicks during a fight, but they can also charge their fur and whiskers with electricity. Enough to protect themselves and stun the attacker.

Quetzal was born missing one of her forepaws and this caused her to be off balance during a fight which resulted in losing her left eye as well. Quetzal survived as a stray on the outskirts of Youndre’s deep alleyways. She ran into Ian by chance during a more difficult time in his cybernetic transition. Coming by more to cheer him up afterwards. Ian didn’t have the heart to leave her behind when it was time to leave on Rajin for a year long trip.

Queztal became a permanent space ship buddy. Just as with Fenrir, she is given free reign of the ship, but always returns to Ian’s cabin for the night if she decides to wander around that day. Though just like other non magical cats, she can get in the way too…..jumping up on the counter while Jessie is cooking, getting between Orion and his never ending studies, and sometimes chasing Pixel just because she looks like a bright, flying light. Ian doesn’t make it publicly obvious, but he loves Quetzal very much and gives her lots of cuddle time. Her electrical powers have come in handy on multiple occasions recharging Ian’s shorted out prosthetic or helping to power up his smaller inventions.

#art #graphicnovel #reod #webcomic #rajinedgeofdarkness #digitalart #dragon half freelance #conceptart #cat #creatureart #characterdesign #oc

[softlimefluff]

Maybe Tonight - p8

A/N: Rai my beloved ❤️ this one is so soft tho like??

i n d u l g e n t  f l u f f 

C/W: showering together, mentions of getting excited and boundaries, physical  description of bodies, but nothing too explicit

18+ only just in case tho, so MDNI

The sunrise was every bit as beautiful as Rai had promised.

He had prepared you a latte, complete with fresh pressed espresso; Rai had an impressive setup, but explained it was because he was “so far into the mountains” and “preferred making it himself when he wasn’t in town.” You smirked, drawing the cup to your lips with an “mhmmmm~” and a wink.

Now you were sitting on a porch swing on the deck area, lofted high above the green valley below. Sunlight cut across the uppermost trees, casting a gold glow through the leaves, while deep orange and yellow began filling the expanse of blue.

“Hungry?” Rai glanced over at you, holding up one of his hands in anticipation. 

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to miss this.” You gestured to the sky, offering a questioning look. 

“I won’t~” 

Rai’s arm disappeared again, but this time you noticed a thread you hadn’t before, snaking over the railing. Watching curiously, you waited for an explanation—Rai only held up a finger for you to wait and shut one eye, concentrating.

In a few seconds, the thread returned and Rai plucked a few strawberries off the line, his arm winding back into place.

“WAIT CAN DS DO THAT TOO??”

Rai grinned, nodding. “He has a dog form, but I can turn any part of my body into cables. Kind of a weird skill, but it comes in handy~” 

Coming to sit next to you on the swing, Rai offered over a strawberry, watching your reaction as you tried the fruit. 

“Rai! This is amazing!” Closing your eyes, you took another bite, letting the taste of sweetness and sunshine fill your palette. You had never tasted a strawberry so perfectly ripe before. “No wonder people love the Fruit Parlor so much, if everything’s this good.”

A faint blush tinged Rai’s cheeks and the tips of his ears as he hid his smile through a bite and focused his gaze on the ever-changing morning sky.

“You’re a real charmer, (y/n), you know that?”

Smiling, you leaned onto Rai’s shoulder. “Maybe~”

The silence that passed between you was one of two hearts in sync—not an awkward pause between thoughts, scrambling for words, but the shared presence of comfortable quietness, filling up the silent moments with warmth.

When the sun finally peeked above the tree line, Rai stood up, offering a hand to you. “Do you want to get a shower or anything? I know it’s been a few days since the ocean, you’re probably feeling gross.”

You nodded, taking his hand. “Yeah that’d be nice. Ah!” Wobbling slightly, you pulled your ankle with the residual bite marks up. When you had stood, your ankle had twinged again—pain radiating from the mark. 

Rai had moved forward immediately, stabilizing you with his arms around your waist. 

“Ha, that’s the second time you’ve caught me.” You looked up, blushing, feeling small in his arms. He really was strong and you could feel the muscles of his arms flexing as he held you up. Frick.

“Guess it is.” Looking down, Rai frowned, gripping tighter. “I should tell Holly that your ankle is still giving you problems.” 

“Can I shower first? I don’t want to go into town all gross.”

Rai nodded, but bit his lip. “(y/n), if it’s too fast, you can say no, but can I help you shower? You’re still a bit wobbly and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Your face immediately flushed, picturing Rai naked in the shower, and your eyes got wide.

“Uh… Mmmm.” You took a second, checking in with what you were comfortable with at this point. “I’m. Not interested in going any further quite yet. But I’m okay with a shower. If that’s okay with you?”

He nodded, switching to just one arm around your waist as support. “Of course. You’re not totally back to base yet either and I wouldn’t want to push you. I’m okay with taking it slow.”

You relaxed, nodding back. “Thank you.” 

“Yasuho came over the other day and left you a few bags of stuff. Do you want  a few minutes to look through them and see what you need?”

“Yeah. Are they in my room?”

“They are. Go there?” 

You nodded yes and walked slowly with him back to the guest room, sitting on the covers as he set the bags next to you.

“Yasuho is really worried about you. You should give her a call later when we’re in town. She’s been emailing me every few hours for an update.”

You had dumped the bags out on the covers, sorting things into piles to assess what all she had brought. “That sounds like her. She’s a sweetheart.”

Finding your toiletries, your scooped them into a bag and handed it to Rai. “Could you carry them for me?” Batting your eyelashes you added a “Please?~” with your cutest smile.

“I was already going to carry them, but since you asked so nicely~”

Grinning, you leaned into Rai again, making your way to the bathroom. “You have extra towels, right?” 

“Yeah, I’ll get you one. Here.” Rai lowered you onto the closed toilet seat, still holding the bag. “Let me set things up.” 

You watched, enthralled, as Rai meticulously lined up your bath supplies in the shower, setting up face wash, shampoo, creamrinse, and body wash. Turning as he exited, Rai started the water to warm up, ducking into the linen closet next to grab a large towel and washcloth. 

Ah. Now was the awkward part…

“You ready?” Rai stood above you, tucking the towel onto the rack and holding onto the washcloth. 

“Y-yeah.” Gripping the hem of your sleep dress, you pulled it over your head in one swift motion, leaving you exposed, cheeks hot as you stood carefully to pull off your shorts. Rai’s face was warm too, jaw clenching as he saw how beautiful you were.

Gripping at his own waistband, Rai removed his sleep pants, hoping that both of you undressing would alleviate some nerves.

It did not.

You both stood there, naked and shy, trading quick glances, trying not to stare but absolutely failing.

Wow. He was cute. Like REALLY cute. Even though he wore a tight jumpsuit for “missions,” his body was even prettier uncovered. You focused on him arms and chest, trying not to immediately look at his dick. 

You failed again.

He was so pretty and big and even had nicely groomed hair. You wanted to cover yourself up in comparison to him. He was so meticulous about everything and you felt like a disaster. 

Even so, he smiled at you, offered you his hand again, and led you gently to the shower—no judgement, no words, just warmth. 

The shower had a bench in the middle (since it was a more traditional shower room) and Rai set you down gently, handing you your face wash. 

“I’ll start shampoo.”

The shower head on the wall was pouring out a gentle stream of warm water and Rai brought it over, wetting your hair and face before he started. You both worked in tandem, gentle and quiet as the water hit the floor in a soft patter.

He handed you creamrinse next, grabbing your body wash and soaping up your back. “(y/n), do you want to do the rest? I can do it, but…” 

You were combing though your hair with your fingers, glancing back at him. “I-it’s okay. It feels nice. You can do it.”

He reddened, nodding back. “Okay. Didn’t wanna…”

Leaning forward, you pulled Rai into a gentle kiss. “Thank you for being so careful. I appreciate it.”

He gripped the washcloth tighter, settling into the kiss with a soft hum. Your bodywash smelled like apples and honey and you sighed, relaxing as the moment played out. 

You were starting to see how much you could trust Rai. His actions spoke only of care and concern, putting your comfort and well-being at the forefront. You could see he had matured since the stories from the past. 

“Rai?” 

He put his forehead to yours for a moment, letting the warm water from the shower drip over both of you. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He smiled, stealing another short kiss. “You’re welcome. Anytime~”

“I might take you up on that~”

He chuckled, getting down on his knees. “Let me finish this time first~” Reaching out, Rai rubbed the cloth over your shoulders and chest, watching as you gasped gently. It was taking everything in him not to kiss your chest, but he held back, handing you the cloth to finish. 

“I’m gonna do my hair, let me know when you want to get out.”

Rai turned, back towards you, letting out a deep sigh as he reached for the shampoo. Wait, was he trying to calm down?? Did he? 

Sneaking a glance, you realized Rai had been getting excited, but held himself back for you—keeping his promise not to go further.

You flushed, but smiled to yourself, swiping the cloth over your thighs and stomach. Rai was definitely someone you could trust. You were… 

Really?

You were falling in love.

#rai mamezuku #rai mamezuku x reader #jjba reader insert #jojolion #jjba #maybe tonight #showering together #fluff

[simpingforcadbury]

Chocolate and Floss of the Non-Variety

13. Meeting Mother (1966)

Willy had found himself in an unusual state of nervousness over the whole affair. There was first, the matter of dress and whether or not he would have to become Mr Wilbert Williams again to meet Kristie’s family; an option which he was not fond of because he wanted to be open about himself to those who mattered most to his partner. He most certainly did not entertain the thought of getting off on the wrong foot with them. Mr Wilkinson- who was quite handy with the needle- managed to stitch up a discreet long domino which covered him from head to toe. With the hood drawn over, he could barely be seen. It was just the right thing for the purpose of the occasion.

Standing before him in the wall mirror, he saw his the light of his own dark eyes glinting through the mass of shadowy black that swathed him. How menacing, he grinned to himself, swirling around as he watched the fabric settle about his reflection. At least no-one would dare to approach him on his journey. Yes, it would be serviceable.

Beneath, he had on the myriad of colours which he so often sported, a mismatched and garish palette to the unacquainted, but which he felt right at home in. A self admitted peacock, Wonka found that he didn’t quite care what other people thought of him, simply because he was being himself and so not at all as boring as some folks were. Being loud by being oneself was just how he was.

Checking over his appearance once again in the mirror, he turned on his heel and left the safe anonymity of the factory behind him. The wind whistled between channels of lonely streets, bringing with it a half-snow, half-sleet concoction which battered his coat. For once, he was grateful for the extra layer the domino afforded him, feeling the water beginning to soak through it already.

At last the sight of a bright light from a window greeted him, Kristie’s home. He had met her mother before once in passing, a genial smile upon his lips as he played the part of Mr Wilbert Williams. But now, it was time to play his own part as William Wonka. Raising his hand to the door, he knocked, settling his nerves.

Inside, Kristie perked up at the sound of three heavy knocks upon the front door. Willy had arrived. Swinging open the door she was taken aback by the black cloaked figure standing on the threshold, shivering slightly like a tall reed in the wind.

The sight of familiar eyes made her realise that it was in fact Willy. “Willy! Come in out of the cold.” She fussed over the state of his absurdly large coat which (to her annoyance) was beginning to drip all over the freshly cleaned threshold, making a puddle of watery dirt. Beneath, his plum suit seemed to have survived the walk over, the domino having weathered the worst of the draft.

Through the doorway, her mother bustled into the foyer to greet him. “You must be William, I’m Irene, Kristie’s mother. It’s lovely to meet you at last.” She said as she gave a firm handshake.

“Irene, I’m delighted to meet you too! I believe we’ve passed by many times in the park?”

“Yes, you have impeccable timing although I suppose we didn’t know each other then.” She studied him closely with calculated eyes. “In fact, I barely would have recognised you had you not mentioned it. You look... younger than you were then. And less colourful.”

“I do make a point of going out in disguise. I find it unsettling if people recognise me, they usually want something. It’s best to keep it on the down low.”

There was a sympathetic look in her eye. Being famous had its downsides and as young as Wonka had been when he first gained publicity, it seemed to her that he didn’t have much experience of a normal life. Almost as though he was trying to live vicariously through the identity of a different man. Was he harassed by spies or former workers? The line was hard to draw.

Irene wondered then if he had ever really held a real job at all, or if his quick rise to fame academically had bolstered his wealth enough to begin his own burgeoning entrepreneurial project. She had once found his flippancy for the workers he had let go of to be absurd and out of touch, but now she questioned if she had been missing gaps to the story.

The town had been rocked hard economically by his sudden no-nonsense decision. Then, it was the factory that came first, the township building itself around it gradually like a city surrounds a fortress. The Wonka Factory had given jobs to many of the people living there and when it closed its doors, it had made most of the population redundant. Ever since then, the welfare and the state of their small dot on the map had declined rapidly. Poverty stricken families with limited skill sets struggled to put food on the table with each passing day.

Her husband had been one such casualty. His unemployment had been the reason Kristie had moved closer. It was a dead end job but she made her unwavering decision without hesitation. They were fortunate to be able to have her there supporting them. Kristie did not love half heartedly and for love, she was willing to move mountains (or move across mountains in her case). She was careful, but Irene wanted to be sure her daughter was in responsible hands. Hands that would not break her spirit in brashness.

It was because of Wonka that Kristie had sacrificed the years she could have spent forwarding her career in the city. She would see to it that she did not sacrifice everything for this strange man. She knew from experience that love was blinding sometimes and she intended to be a pair of fresh eyes on Kristie’s behalf.

~~~~~

The night was going somewhat better than everyone expected. Drink and laughter flowed easily now, ease beginning to settle into everyone at the table. “I wonder sometimes, what went through your mind when you shut down the factory. Would you care to share?”

Wonka went quiet for a moment, eyes darkening at the memory. He saw the question for what it was. “There was for a long while a suspicion that I had of some employees spying on and selling information about the factory and my recipes. At that time, there were a number of copycats that began producing almost identical confections, all under the umbrella corporation belonging to Arthur Slugworth who once knew me well. I had had just about enough of it when someone decided to sabotage the company by contaminating the chocolate with salmonella. Our quality control procedures were a godsend, and it was a miracle that we’d detected it before it was delivered out to the world. It was all quite disheartening and I’d simply had enough of it.” He sniffed pertinently.

“It’s a shame when you can’t even trust your own workers. And it’s an even greater travesty that one bad egg could ruin the chances of those others just trying to maintain a decent job. I never knew the lengths to which Slugworth went to to ruin you.” Kristie lamented.

“My father once worked for you.”

Willy stiffened.

“Rest assured, he wasn’t affiliated with Slugworth, William. I would imagine that industrial espionage comes with a certain pay check, and if he were a spy, Kristie wouldn’t have needed to move here to support us financially. You have no idea what she’s given up to leave everything behind and start fresh here.” Irene chimed, sending the palpable tension in his posture.

“Speaking of which, I’ve yet to grill you on your handling of redundant workers. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but this town has been in an utter state of disrepair after the factory closed and everyone has been making sacrifices to make ends meet.”

His decision had been unemotional then, a simple means to an end. Wonka has never really considered the impact of his actions on others, so disconnected he had been in the months leading up to the contamination disaster. Now there was weight to it, the gaunt faces and consequences that he had single handed condemned them to. A handsome severance pay could only sustain someone for so long. The factory was the beating heart of their small world, and without it, everything began to wither.

“I know it’s little comfort to the damage that I’ve caused, but I’m so deeply sorry for the pain it’s caused you. I know it was a harsh decision, one that now in hindsight could have been handled better. Duty of care is something that I wish I understood as a younger man. I was more hot headed back then.” A hot streak of shame shot through him and he felt as though he were a little boy again being scolded, only now, he could feel the full gravity of the situation at hand.

“Do you think you’d open the factory again to workers?” Kristie asked hesitantly.

And here was his dilemma. He did not want to open it again, selfish as it may seem.

“I don’t think I would. Besides, the Oompa Loompas do a terrific job and we have a symbiotic relationship so to speak.” He responded gravely. “But, on the other hand, I would be open to re-hire some people to do work outside the factory, like deliveries. It’ll be a small start.” He hesitated, “although most of our assets can’t be liquidated at the moment, we have more than enough money to spare on perhaps making donations to fund some local projects and charities too.”

Irene was impressed by his self reflection and the solutions he considered to make amends. It was important to acknowledge a mistake and plan to fix it. In his response she saw his maturity and strength and... responsibility. There was more to him than met the eye, though time would prove his commitment. Sitting alone by the crackling fire in the quiet of the house after Willy had been seen off and Kristie had gone to bed, she turned her thoughts over in her head, expression unreadable.

Back to masterlist

#kristie masseter #willy wonka x ofc #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #oompa loompa #charlie and the chocolate factory

[baby-grayson]

Sweet Enigma: Part 2

Word Count: 2918 

Tag List: @wheezeatmedolans​ @styles-dolan​ @prettyboydolan​ @evergreendolan​ @baby-turtles​ @dolanstacoma​ @not-gbd​ @graysavant​ @someonetogray​ @dolansficsandpics​ @ batgirl099 @voguekristens 

Grayson’s eyes shifted from his seat in Kate’s car to his front door. His mouth folded into a tight ball, while he huffed out of his nose. His weak sinus responded by triggering a cough that filled the space of Kate’s car.

She winced and gave him a sideways glance from the driver’s side, “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

Grayson nodded and cleared his throat. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down, thankful to see that he was no longer wet—although he was highly disheveled. He pushed the passenger side door open and convinced his legs to walk toward his front door.

For a moment, he second guessed whether his key would open his own front door. Something about his house made it seem like foreign territory, like it belonged to another version of Grayson with much different priorities than the one that walked over that threshold.

Almost immediately, Grayson was faced with the tall, looming, svelte figure of Calvin Maddox.

Calvin Maddox was a slim shouldered, lengthy man with perfectly kept white hair: who walked with all the power, elegance, and traditionalism that came with having old money. Maddox had inherited a fortune from his bloodline: he maintained his money via his status as a Real Estate Tycoon in the deep South. Up until the night before, Calvin had liked Grayson. He had looked forward to being his father-in-law one day. Calvin would have never uttered this out loud in front of his family, but he even favored Grayson over his current son-in-law, Sherry’s sister Coral’s husband, Jackson White.

In that moment, Calvin’s steely blue eyes were forged with hatred and detest while he looked down his nose at Grayson while he made his way through the front door. Calvin’s figure reminded Grayson of a wolf, as the older man prowled his way across the living room and silently stepped in front of Grayson’s path. For a second, Grayson could have sworn he saw the man snarl at him.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Calvin’s Southern accent was thick and slathered with a calm anger, “Walking through that door, like nothing ever happened.” Grayson’s pupils trembled in his eyes as Calvin crossed his arms.

“I-uh,” Grayson stammered, “I just wanted to get a few things. I’m uh—I’m sorry—I am but—I’m not looking for a problem.” Grayson held out his palms in from of him, taking in a few shaky breaths. Calvin stepped toward Grayson, keeping his arms crossed. “You know my daughter wasn’t looking for a problem when she agreed to be your wife. But now I’m wondering if that’s really the case, son.” In the past year, Calvin had started calling Grayson ‘son’, in act of Southern hospitality. Usually, Grayson found it comforting; on that day, the word was charged with antagonistic energy.

Grayson gulped down, feeling his heart pound from deep within his chest. He opened his mouth to say something but found his entire mouth was dry, with his tongue hanging heavy against his palette.

“Now,” Calvin took another step toward Grayson. He narrowed his eyes at Grayson before continuing, “You want to tell me what happened last night Grayson.” Calvin took another step toward Grayson, leaving only a few inches of space between them, “Or are we going to have a problem?”

Grayson went blank, staring up at the older man with wide eyes and shallow breaths. His tongue flopped inside of his mouth, failing to create anything that could become coherent words. His bottom lip trembled as he tried to find a response that could face the moment.

From inside the house, behind the pair, a few footsteps came sauntering through the hallway.

“Hey,” Ethan’s voice was low and calm, “What’s going on out here?”

Grayson’s eyes immediately found Ethan’s: a pair of unsure, nervous eyes meeting an identical pair laced with assurance and relief.

Calvin did not shift from his position in front of Grayson. “Nothing Ethan,” he looked over his shoulder to find Ethan standing in an identical position: crossed arms and steely eyes. Calvin dropped his hands at his sides and stepped back from Grayson’s personal space, “Just asking your brother if he could explain why he decided to break my baby girl’s heart last night.” Grayson gulped again. He saw an accomplished look wash through Calvin’s eyes for a moment.

Calvin looked down, surprised to see Ethan place a hand on his shoulder, “I think my brother will talk, when he’s ready to talk.”

Grayson’s mouth fell into a tight line and he pushed his shoulders back: trying to feign confidence. Ethan patted Calvin’s shoulder chummily, nearly mocking the tension of the moment, “C’mon Calvin, I think you should eat something.” Grayson was extremely grateful to see Ethan lead the man away coolly. Finally alone in the room, Grayson breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t aware of it at the time, but Ethan had made excuses for Grayson’s disappearance the night before. In the weeks prior, Ethan had noticed his brother’s confidence slowly fade into a squirrelfish demeaner: he knew it was just a matter of time until Grayson’s façade broke. Ethan was shocked that Grayson chose his own engagement party to accept his inner qualms. Ethan wrote it off as another example of Grayson being the dumber twin.

From the car, Kate pulled down the sun visor in her car to inspect herself in the mirror. While Grayson mentally sparred with Calvin Maddox in the house, Kate discovered a few stress pimples forming between her temple and her left eye. She sighed and bored holes into the front door with her eyes, silently begging Grayson to come back as quickly as possible. She looked back in the mirror to recognize the under-eye bags and frizzy, unkept hair that came as a consolation prize with being a third-year doctoral student.

Grayson’s steps were hurried and frantic as he raced to his own bedroom: barely recognizing it under the hoards of overturned drawers and bags laying out the room. In a manic fit, Sherry had scoured and destroyed everything she could get her hands on, in a mad effort to understand where Grayson had gone and why he would want to leave her. Grayson’s heart stopped for a second, but his mind emphasized the importance of haste.

Moving quickly, he grabbed his orange, leather, Louis Vuitton duffel bag from the top shelf of his closet. He shuffled through piles of clothing to find the few pieces he though he would need in the coming days. He didn’t pay attention to the shoes he grabbed from his closet, putting whatever he found first in the bag. He was looking down at the bag, taking an inventory of what he had packed when the door to his on-suite bathroom slowly opened with a painful screech on its hinges.

In the door frame, was the image of Grayson’s exhausted, angry, and frenzied fiancé.

Sherry Kerrigan Maddox was drawn into the world with womanly curves and a Cheshire Cat smile. She knew nothing except for the high-class, debutante life of a Southern heiress. She grew up trailing her mother and sister at high-profile events: wearing big hats, drinking sweet iced tea, and laughing politely at the jokes of the country’s richest southern dynasties.

Sherry spent most of her teenage life away from her mother and father, attending a private boarding school with her older sister, Coral. Unlike Coral, Sherry never did particularly well in school. The only subject she was ever mildly interested in was French, which she learned to speak with superb proficiency, something that came in handy with her future modeling career. Once, Sherry had cried when she was handed a math test. Her teacher, who had just graduated from college, excused Sherry from taking the test in an act of kindness, not wanting to subject a young girl to public emotional strife. When the board of Sherry’s private school found out, they threated Sherry with suspension on the order of disobedience and violating the academic validity code. A cool word and hot money from Calvin Maddox promised that the teacher would be let go from the school, while his daughter could continue to happily doodle in her notebooks and forget about Algebra.

She was, objectively, beautiful. Her round face was complimented with full cheeks and a soft jawline. Her blue eyes were wide but almond shaped: inherently sensual. She wore a strong, arched brow: the brunette color of which exposed her as a fake blonde. But her hair was a gorgeous golden hue, always sitting exactly perfectly on her head. Sherry Maddox knew, quite well, that lipstick lasted longer, but always preferred to wear gloss, because it was more fun.

Her voice was choked with waves of torment, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Every muscle in Grayson’s body stiffened. In a deep place, he knew this conversation was coming he just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. He swallowed hard, meeting his lips together in a flat pout. He let out a hard breath as Sherry spoke again, “What are you doing here?” Grayson didn’t turn to face her, “Sherry-I-“ “NO!” Her usual Southern elegance was gone from her presence, replaced with the unhinged pain of a woman with a broken heart, “You don’t get to say my name! You don’t get to just,” she motioned her arms in the air, “waltz in here!”

Grayson stammered and turned to find Sherry with tears in her eyes, shaking a pointed finger at him. He closed his mouth.

“So?” Her voice held a sharp edge, “You don’t have anything to say for yourself?” She gritted her teeth, “You leave me there. Alone.  In front of everyone. And you can’t even apologize.”

Grayson exhaled; his jaw shook in the attempt at finding something to say. He signed, “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know—I” Sherry interrupted him, “You? You embarrassed me? You humiliated me? You left me to explain to TMZ and Page6 why you weren’t there? You left me there to listen to Ethan’s pathetic excuses for you?” She sneered at him, “You must think I’m really stupid.”

Grayson reached an arm behind him, placing it on his duffel bag. He silently wished that he could run away, and leave this moment frozen for a more prepared Grayson to handle. “I don’t think that Sherry. I just –I need time.” His eyes pleaded with her; his heart felt like it was being plucked at by a thousand angry, clawed birds.

Sherry laughed: a cold laugh without an ounce of humor in her face. “You need time?” Her voice was vicious. “You need? Wow. We’re talking about what you need. What about what I need? What about the fact that I needed you last night? Thought didn’t cross your mind did it?”

Grayson’s face folded into a pained position, “I’m sorry Sherry. I really am. I—We—I can’t do this anymore.” In one swift motion, Grayson picked up his duffel bag and headed for the door. He tried to block out the sounds of Sherry’s cries and screams.

Making his way to Kate’s car, Grayson’s internal structure was panged with guilt. His mind tremored with the realization of the gravity of his actions.

Grayson landed in Kate’s passenger seat in a hectic, distressed position. Kate silently wished she had suggested that Grayson call Ethan to collect his things. Grayson turned to face her; a distraught form of inner terror palpable in his eyes.

His voice was low, “We’re really doing this.”

She gave him a sideways glance, “You’re really doing this.”

Grayson’s mouth flatlined. His jaw locked with tension and guilt. He thought back to Sherry, peering at the front door through the car window, he turned to face Kate.

The wounds in his heart burned when she said, “I’m not the one who needs a second chance because I treated you right the first time.”

The car ride to Kate’s apartment was silent except for the gentle buzz of her engine. She parked on the street and didn’t say a word to Grayson as she exited the car.

With her keys dangling in her hand, she quickly marched up the stairs and through her front door. Her energy was fluxed by the sight of Wesley in her living room. “Hey,” his voice was heavy with concern, “I texted you. I thought we were going for breakfast this morning?” His big brown eyes were weighed down with his care for her.

Kate’s mouth went dry as he tongues floundered for a moment, “Sorry—I must have forgotten. You know how things have been lately, I’ve been working more than I’ve been breathing.” Her words mushed together, making her sentence sound like one over-extended syllable.

Wesley stood up and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “You doing alright Katie? I’ve been worried about you but this—this isn’t like you.” He gently thumbed her clavicle, “Maybe you should put work down for a little bit.”

Kate shook her head quickly, “No-I mean yes. Yes. That’s exactly what I am going to do. I was going to call you. I’m leaving. For now. To go to..Philly! I’m going to spend time with my mom in Philly.” She nodded enthusiastically, trying to fake a smile.

Wesley seemed satisfied with this answer, as his eyes lost some of their murk, “Good. I’m happy for you. When are you leaving?” “Today!” Kate’s answer came a bit too fast and too loud.

Wesley furrowed his brow, “And when are you getting back? Maybe we can take a weekend together before you go back to work?”

“I’m not sure,” Kate gave a weak shrug, “I didn’t book my return ticket yet.” She sucked in her top lip, “I was going to wait—for the weather. Wouldn’t want to book a ticket during a snowstorm.” Wesley placed a gentle kiss on her head, “Say hi to your mom for me. And remember, I’m a phone call away.” Kate’s own heart betrayed her as her pulse quickened under Wesley’s lips, “Will do.” She sighed in relief when she stepped away and headed for the door, “Enjoy your trip. Love you Katie.” “Love y-“ Wesley shut the front door and she did not finish.

Kate was emotionally uncomfortable. Not from lying to Wesley because this was not the first time she had lied to him. She was uncomfortable with how nearly comfortable she was in this dialogue.

She shifted her emotions to a distant place in her mind, deciding to struggle with them later. She worked methodically to pack a backpack with the clothes and toiletries she would need for the trip. At the bottom of her closet, she pulled out a shoebox with the two t-shirts and one pair of sweatpants she was left with after breaking up with Grayson. She included the pieces in her backpack, figuring this was as good a chance as any to give them back to him.

Hustling out of her door, she looked down to see her school bag thrown against the floor. She picked it up, her research in the back of her mind. With two backpacks and a jacket slung over her shoulder, she made her way to Grayson in her car outside.

Kate shoved her things in the back seat, next to Grayson’s duffel bag. With a huff, she dropped herself in the driver’s seat and turned to face Grayson.

He started first, “I’m sorry.” He spoke quickly, “I’m so sorry. I know I’m dragging you into this when you don’t deserve to be here. I should have never assumed that you would even be remotely interested in trying to—” Kate held up a finger to his lips. “This is my decision too.” Her voice was steady, the opposite of his frenzied tone. Grayson shook his head, his mouth felt sparks under her slender finger. “You’re not responsible for sorting through my emotions.” She looked at him, a serene balance in her eyes. She spoke with a confidence, “If I didn’t want to help you, I wouldn’t be here.”

#im proud of how i wrote this #i usually think i am a shit writer #so this is a new feeling for me #i really hope you like it #grayson dolan #fanfic #grayson x oc #dolan twins #ethan #ethan dolan #grayson #youtuber #long fic #series #blurb #concept #romance #angst

[sonicgetsrawed]

Love is Love

All I gotta say is fuck homophobes!!! 💁🏻‍♀️ warnings for homophobia!! Enjoy!!!

Rapunzel’s squeal could be heard from a mile away, the blonde quickly scooping up the two younger boys in a fierce hug. “You guys look adorable!”

“Thanks, but I’d like to be able to, you know, breathe.” Hugo grumbled, trying and failing to get out of Rapunzel’s grip.

“At this point you should just accept it.” Varian laughed, bringing his arms up to return the hug as best he could.

“You know, Sunshine, ponytail is right, they do need to breathe.” Eugene said, patting Rapunzel’s shoulder gently telling her to let go of her victims.

“Right, sorry!” Rapunzel laughed, finally releasing the two boys. “But you do look adorable.”

Varian beamed, placing a kiss to Hugo’s cheek before the older spun him in a little circle. Hugo smiled down at his boyfriend, Varian wearing a pair of cuffed jean shorts, knee high rainbow socks, a grey tank top with the sleeves tied up with blue, purple, and pink ribbons that read ‘bi disaster- stay clear’ in bold print, his cheeks sporting small painted bi flags on them. Hugo was dressed similarly with the same shorts and socks, but his shirt was a grey crop top with pink, yellow, and blue ribbons on the sleeves which read ‘pantastic’ across the front, his cheeks sporting the pan flag on them, his hair tied up in colorful ribbons.

“Thanks! It was hell getting this one into anything that wasn’t a flannel.” Hugo said, slipping his hand into the back pocket of Varian’s jeans as Varian stuck his tongue out at him.

“Believe me, I know.” Eugene said, rolling his eyes as he pulled Rapunzel to his side.

“This is honestly so rude, I feel so attacked right now.” Varian teased, Eugene reaching forward to ruffle his hair.

“You know we love you.” Rapunzel said, trying and failing to hide her laugh behind her hand. “But we can’t show our pride on an empty stomach! Let’s go get some breakfast!”

Rapunzel ran ahead, Varian following quickly behind her, they did have the biggest appetites of the small group so Hugo wasn’t particularly surprised. He was surprised, however when Eugene placed a hand on his shoulder, a questioning look on his face. He couldn’t help the small swell of panic in his gut, he’d gotten more than one shovel talk from the man already and he didn’t expect them to stop anytime soon. “Hey, kid, you think you could paint those little flags on our faces too?”

Hugo smiled brightly, it seemed the holiday of sorts brought out the best in even Eugene. “Does Rapunzel have a makeup palette I can borrow?”

“Hell, I got my own.” Eugene said, clapping Hugo’s back and sending the young man pitching forward as he tossed a small makeup palette into the air. Hugo barely caught it, shooting a glare at Eugene’s back as he sauntered into the restaurant. Hugo took a deep breath, he wasn’t going to let anything ruin his mood today, and followed the group inside.

The diner was one they’d been to numerous times before, a quiet little place on the side of the road, not many people paid it much mind, but it was one of his favorite places. The worn out leather seats and the outdated tables have it a certain charm, and he had spent many nights both alone and with Varian in those booths. It held many special memories and now there’d be another, their first pride festival. Hugo had been many times in the past, but this was the first time he’d get to go with Varian and their friends. He slid into the booth next to Varian, his hand finding a spot on Varian’s thigh as soon as he was settled. Varian smiled at him, his hand resting on Hugo’s knee. Hugo returned the smile, rubbing their noses together.

“Gay.” A group of people snickered from a few tables over, the tone harsh and demeaning. Hugo shot them a glare over his shoulder, Varian giving his knee a light squeeze and shaking his head.

“Ignore them.” Varian said, placing a soft kiss to Hugo’s lips. More snickers sounded behind them.

“They’ve been doing that since we walked in.” Rapunzel said, angrily dumping an insane amount of sugar into her coffee.

Eugene pried the sugar out of Rapunzel’s hands. “It’s not worth it, Sunshine. Besides, Hugo agreed to give us little flags.”

“Really?” Rapunzel beamed, already sliding over to Hugo and Varian’s side of the booth. “Me first.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Varian laughed, moving over to sit by Eugene as Hugo pulled out the makeup palette. He made quick work of adding their respective flags to their cheeks, almost wishing he’d used makeup instead of face paint for him and Varian solely for the fact that Rapunzel and Eugene’s flags had a slight hint of glitter to them. By the time he’d finished their order had been taken and Varian was back at his side where he belonged.

“So what do we do when we get there?” Varian asked, spooning more whipped cream into his hot chocolate.

“Have fun.” Hugo said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He intended to say more, but another snicker caught his attention.

“I bet it’s real fun giving it to him up the ass.” One of the girls at the table said.

Hugo was seeing red at this point, those insensitive assholes kept making jabs the whole time they were there. Varian placed a hand on his cheek, lightly shaking his head. “Ignore them, they’re not worth it.”

“I bet you wish your guy gave it to you up the ass!” Eugene yelled across the dining room, standing up in his seat.

“Eugene.” Rapunzel hissed, pulling him back down. “Don’t give them the satisfaction. Let’s just go.”

The group slid out of the booth, not wanting to waste any more time there. They could always grab breakfast somewhere else, somewhere less hostile. They were almost to the exit when another voice echoed behind them. “Ah, I guess we know who wears the pants in the relationship, and I bet you let her peg you too, Eugene.”

Rapunzel froze, a look of anger crossing her face like Hugo had never seen before, her hand twitching at her side. “On second thought-“

“Blondie-“

Rapunzel moved quickly, spinning around and picking up a frying pan that just so happened to be sitting in the middle of the counter, sending it flying through the air. There was a brief moment of silence, an odd second where the pan seemed to be moving in slow motion as it soared through the air, and then it hit its target. The poor unfortunate, well not unfortunate in Hugo’s opinion, the idiot more than deserved it, sap at the center of the table of homophobes got hit square in the forehead with the pan, sending him flying back, his chair tipping over. There was another moment of silence and then all hell broke loose.

“You little bitch!” One of the girls yelled, lunging at Rapunzel, Eugene putting himself between the two. The girl had a smug look on her face, her voice mocking. “You wouldn’t hit a girl.”

“I’m an equal opportunist, cunt.” Eugene said, kicking the girls legs out from underneath her.

Hugo watched the situation unfold with a shocked expression, he hadn’t expected Rapunzel of all people to start a fight and yet here they were. He hadn’t even noticed another one of those sorry excuses for a decent human being sneaking up behind him until the sound of a plate breaking reached his ears. He turned to see Varian with the broken remains of a plate in his hands, the food on the floor with the person, a proud smirk on Varian’s face. It didn’t last long, the boy being tackled to the floor by another assailant. Hugo wasted no time jumping onto that person’s back and wrapping his arms around their throat. He didn’t know where Eugene and Rapunzel were, but given the sounds of the frying pan swinging through the air it couldn’t be far.

“Duck!” Rapunzel yelled, Hugo barely having time to follow the instruction before the frying pan collided with the person’s head, sending them pitching forward. Hugo rolled off their back, his head spinning as he hit the ground. He quickly pulled Varian to his feet, the younger looking a little dazed and sporting a freshly spilt lip, but otherwise in one piece.

“Are you okay?” Hugo asked, cupping Varian’s face as he checked for any more injuries. Varian hummed, nodding his head as he did so. Hugo placed a soft kiss to his forehead, opening his mouth to say more, but Rapunzel interrupted them.

“Well, I think that’s the last of them.” She said, dusting off her hands and tucking her frying pan underneath her arm.

“You did amazing, Sunshine.” Eugene said, wrapping his arm around his wife as they admired their handy work. Hugo and Varian joined them. The group shared a look, each of them knowing exactly what they meant.

“On the count of three?” Varian asked, a smirk already working its way onto his lips. “One, two, three!”

“Fuck you, homophobes!” The group shouted, each sticking up their middle fingers. The small diner erupted into applause. Their victory was short lived as the sounds of sirens reached their ears.

“How the fuck did I know you all would be at the bottom of this?” Cassandra said, pulling her sunglasses off, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down the group, her badge glinting in the sunlight.

“Yeah, yeah I know the drill.” Eugene said, leading Rapunzel away from the scene and into the cop car. Hugo smiled widely as they left the diner, they’d probably never be allowed back but it was so worth it.

*********************

Twelve hours later they all sat in a holding cell. After hours of processing and three failed phone calls to Nuru, they finally had a moment to relax. Rapunzel was on the women’s side, a line formed around her as she chatted to the other women and braided their hair. Eugene was currently playing a harmonica he’d taped to the underside of the bench a while ago. Varian rested his head on Hugo’s shoulder, their hands linked together.

After what seemed like an eternity Nuru burst through the door. Her sparkly rainbow skirt doing nothing to dim the petite girls fury. “I swear if I have to bail you guys out one more time-“

“I’ll buy you ice cream.” Hugo cut her off, a wide smile splitting her features, the small bi and trans flags crinkling on her cheeks.

“And Amber too?”

“Sure.” Hugo agreed with a tired sigh.

“Great she’s in the car.” Nuru said, stepping to the side so the guard could let them out.

The car ride was silent, Rapunzel and Eugene chatting quietly in the back, while Varian rested his head on Hugo’s shoulder. Hugo placed a soft kiss on top of his head, Varian turning to look up at him, a goofy smile on his face despite the tiredness that lingered in his eyes. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to go to your first pride festival.” Hugo whispered, Varian gently brushing Hugo’s stray hairs out of his eyes.

“It’s okay, I still had fun. Nothing better than telling off a bunch of assholes, right?” Varian said, yawning as he returned his head to its previous position. “Besides, there’s always next year.”

“Yeah, and it’ll be the best year ever.” Hugo said, kissing Varian’s head again as they slowly drifted off to sleep.

#tangled the series #varian #rapunzel #varian and the seven kingdoms #hugo #varigo #eugene fitzherbert

[kidofthekat]

Chapter 7 - The Showdown

One more chapter to go then onto the next part. Masterpost.

“This took less time than I thought it would.”

“You can do anything you want in a few days if you try hard enough Adrikins!”

“Or if you have money.”

“What are you even doing here, fake bluenette?”

“Teal.”

“Whatever, your dismissed.”

“He isn’t one of your hotel staff, Chlo.”

“Would the three of you SHUT UP!”

“Thank you, Juleka.” Alix smiled at her friend and lifted the spoon she was using as a gavel, bringing it down on the table then immediately wincing and checking for a dent.

“Now, Luka, I understand that you want to help your girlfriend-”

“Not my girlfriend-”

“But, just like I told Kagami this morning when I saw her camping outside our classroom, go home and chill hun.” She watched approvingly as Luka trudged out the empty cafeteria before continuing.

“Today is the day, my friends, today is the day.” She pulled a comically large binder from her bag and began to explain its contents as well as who would present what with the help of a handy PowerPoint provided by Juleka.

Despite their early waking and arrival, they almost missed their time frame.

When they finally arrived in class, everyone else (except Lila who was visiting somewhere) was already in their seats including Marinette, right at the back and seemingly whispering into her purse.

“Ahem.” Adrien cleared his throat and gave his classmates his best model smile, “We have a presentation for you!”

It went better than they had expected or even hoped. The presentation itself was rather simple, slide after slide of Lila’s lies being debunked, either clearly real videos or links and screenshots of different websites stating the opposite of whatever Lila had said, all of it verified. And the class reacted perfectly, their bravado diminishing quickly and soon, with a few in tears, they were all periodically glancing back at Marinette, shuffling their feet and glaring at the missing Italian’s place.

They felt guilty, and they were sorry, they knew what they had done.

*

Since when could Alix and Juleka stand Chloé? Did I just miss when she became our friend? Which brings up the now frequently asked question of why she is acting civil to me. Pity? No, that girl wouldn’t pity even one of her mum’s interns.

A presentation? About what, and when was this made? Maybe when they were all at the bakery?

Ooh, that’s quite well done, it looks very pretty, maybe I can use that colour palette for a dress, or maybe a shirt?

Why Lila is lying? Well that leaves nothing to imagination. Though I don’t understand why they are trying this, the sheep, uh, my classmates won’t listen.

Is that a picture of a fox? It’s quite cute, with its bushy tale and –

Jagged Stone?

Prince Ali?

Clara Nightingale?

Wha- the class, they’re listening?

Why are they looking at me? And they’ve stopped talking, even Ms Bustier can’t get them to do that. Not that she is a high bar, I have no idea how she graduated from teaching school. Teaching school? That seems wro-

Crying? Is that crying? Why are you crying? Oh, they’ve realised that the liar is a liar. Huh, I guess Alix is very good at persuading people, like how did she persuade me, the queen of clumsy, to go roller skating? When was that ever going to e-

Okay that is not crying, it’s sobbing, please shut up, Wayzz wanted a really specific tea around midnight and I didn’t get much sleep and-

Wailing. They are Wailing. What are you wailing for? You outcasted one of your friends? Well boohoo, I was the friend, and I use that word lightly, that was outcasted! SHUT UP! You didn’t loose everything and everyone you ever trusted bar a bug mouse who is forced to work for you because of a pair of earrings! You don’t have the right! YOU-

“So, now that you all understand, you can apologise to Marinette and she will forgive you cause she is like that and then all of this drama will be over.”

What?

That’s it?

That’s all it takes?

All it took?

And now-

Now its over?

No.

No.

They-

They didn’t suffer?

Why is it over if they didn’t suffer?

They don’t know how I felt.

They were in pain for a few minutes at most but-

But me.

But me, for months I felt everyone drifting away.

And the looks they gave me.

The distrust seeping from their eyes.

Surrounding me.

Every where.

I couldn’t see through it.

I was blind to everything but her smirks and their blindness.

And now they can see clearly!

They- they have been-

Freed?

And my best friend, who forgot

-or at least that’s what I have decided-

That we were best friends.

Does she is just expect me to take her back?

But she hasn’t suffered yet.

Where is she?

There?

No, that’s Rose.

Well she has suffered at least.

There!

Is she smiling?

Why are you smiling?

But you haven’t suffered yet.

How?

You-

What?

Are you just sitting there

Like

Thank Kwami she isn’t a liar.

Well, we can be friends again.

No.

You haven’t suffered.

At least not like I did.

I felt you rip out my heart!

YOU DIDN’T TRUST ME.

And now, it’s over?

IM NOT READY.

And now, we’re friends again?

FRIENDS?

WE AREN’T FRIENDS.

WHY ARE YOU WALKING THIS WAY?

WHA-

STOP SMILING.

STOP SMI-

STOP

ST-

“STOP!”

Her aura did the rest. Suffocating their hope with anger. Blinding them again. Erasing all remnants of good will towards her from their memories.

Hawkmoth didn’t find out what made his favourite class so Akuma Perfect that day, but he really didn’t care.

I am so sorry I took so long to update, school and stuff.

Next

Taglist:

@kanamexzeroyaoifangirl

@lilkymilky

@mythogaychic

@aestheticnpoetic

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #class salt #marinette dupain cheng #lukanette

[crystal-moon-101]

My redesigns for this popular trio!

The Secret Generator 10 (Or Celebrity Trio but that doesn’t really work for me because of Zak...) I’ve been meaning to get around to doing this, since I am really fond of these three boys. With Zak and Rex both being part of my top two shows of all time. Sorry Ben....

-Zak Saturday-

He was the most fun working with. His warm colour palette isn’t something I work with often, but I think I did alright. He also as some small details you might notice, like the fangs, eyes and scales.

Notes:

14 Years Old

5′5 (Will only grow to be 5′8. Which confuses him since both sides of his family have very tall genes. Ulraj pokes fun at him, saying all that height is going towards his ‘Kur Form’)

Dead on the inside.

Aggressively Pansexual

His human side has been growing reptilian features. Noticeable fangs, scales growing around his lower neck, around his chest and upper back/shoulders, pure orange eyes with pupils that can become thin slits and a slight forked tongue. 

Even also displays some reptile behaviour. E.g, soaking up sunlight on a rock, alert nature, able to stand still as a statue. (He’s done these things since he was young. His parents just thought it was something he picked up from Komodo.)

The light that forms around his eyes when using his powers have darkened the skin around his eyes. (Suggested by my friend)

He is oddly thin and lanky, but it’s often hard to see because of the baggy clothes he wears.

That being said, he’s a lot stronger than you think he is. Can easily lift people twice his size.

Constantly has to get new hair ties. They keep breaking because 1. Every time his powers cause all of his hair to flow, the tie snaps. 2. Working out in the wild, it keeps getting snagged by tree branches or slipping off when he tumbles downhills.

While quiet and casual outside of battles, he will become a lot like his mother on the field.

Has freckles from his maternal side. His mother doesn’t have them, but Doyle does.

Will casually mention his ridiculously and scary adventures like they’re nothing, not because he’s bragging, but because he truly doesn’t understand what normal really is.

So use to being grabbed by the scruff of his shirt that he will always go limp when you grab him like that, much like a baby animal. 

While he can act very eerie and strange, he’s a very sweet and understanding guy. 

That being said, he can be hella scary when he wants to be.

Don’t mess with his family or he will send an army of Grootslangs to your house.

Still trying to figure out his placement in life and what Kur was really meant to be.

After being taught by his family and uncle, he went to Tsul 'Kalu to be his new mentor.

-Rex Salazar-

I think I changed him the least, but I added extra details and made his shirt, pants and shoes into a one-piece suit. It always baffles me how he can pull off this colour scheme so well.

And while I didn’t draw it here. I would definitely make his pure EVO form a lot smaller. Make him come across more like a monstrous zombie robot thing. The reason why is because those EVO forms he had just felt like they belonged to different shows, like transformers. A more creature design would fit better, I feel.

Notes:

16 Years Old

6′1 (Will grow to be 6′5. Yeeeeeee, he’s a big guy.)

Lady killer~

Best wingman and even offers pretend dates to help you.

Can always hear and feel the technology around him. Strange to everyone else, but he’s learnt to live with it. Even comes in handy when trying to find a good wifi connection.

Knows when to cut the bullcrap.

He does have a bit of a science brain, but he uses it differently than his family had.

Constantly jumping between worlds. Sometimes even tossed by someone.

Talks in his sleep, mostly reciting nanite binary coding.

Lonely lad and child solider, great mix, right?...

Goes all out with holidays. He once, somehow, got real snow in Providence. No one knows how to this day.

Hates lightening.

Has nearly called Holiday and Six mum and dad multiple times.

Has a lot more abilities he has yet to discover. (Including turning people EVO.)

Never asked for any of this, but, eh, what ya gonna do

Is always overexcited when doing normal things. (Werids out Noah a lottt.)

You’re endangered if he decided to use his full raw power. (Key signs to look out for is a large amount of circuit patterns covering him, glowing eyes, tips of his hair glowing too, sharp metal growths and technology around you flashing like crazy.)

Loves Imagine Dragon.

Sharp eyelashes.

Just wants hugs, give him hugs!

Always frustrated when someone from his past tries talking to him about the past. Sometimes he wonders if people forget.

Skilled drawer and smooth singer.

Has an EVO pet (Her name is Siri, Btw)

Some have compared him to being a living, breathing nanite. 

Eager to have family game nights! “Poker doesn’t count, Bobo...”

Once had a malfunction, his whole body was out of wack. (Noah laughs about it and even has some recordings, much to Rex’s dismay.)

Has a civilian outfit that Noah put together. (He refuses to take off his goggles, however.) 

-Ben Tennyson-

Now, I already made a redesign for him, along with Gwen, Julie and Kevin (Both for teen and kid versions). I used the same look, just adjusted some details and colours.

Notes:

15 Years Old

5′9 (And he stays that height. He peaked in height very young, but stop growing quickly. This does annoy him.)

Dumbass with bad impulse control.

Even he’s confused by how he keeps attracting women.

Had a rather lonely childhood with many bullies. (It’s why he often seeks attention, he’s afraid of being alone and forgotten again.)

It’s also what made him jealous of Gwen when they were young. Most treated her like the better of the two.

Pretty crap at sharing his feelings. He would rather play it off as a jerk, then go and drown himself in smoothies...

A secret momma’s boy. “Benny Bear” As his mother likes to call him.

Has an interesting dynamic with Azmuth. Despite their arguments, they balance each other well. Others have even seen them taking care of each other (Almost like father and son), but the pair will always deny this and say it’s ‘strictly’ professional.

 Surprisingly great with kids. (This was truly noticed when seen around his 14 baby chills.)

In the future, he will have a nasty wound on the battlefield, which will result in the Omnitrix becoming his new arm and merging with him.

When he takes thing seriously, you know shits going down!

Has a german shepherd name Boston.

 Likes to call Vilgax ‘Calamari’.

Has grown to be close to most Tennyson members. (E.G Camille, who was actually his babysitter after she joined the family.)

He doesn’t like peacocks after...an incident at the zoo. His mother still apologizes to this day.

Decent singer and very skilled at the guitar. 

Has picked up combat moves from Tetrax.

Has always felt like he’s nothing without the watch. Others have said otherwise.

He knows how to speak certain alien languages, Galvan being one of them.

His schedule is a nightmare, because something is always popping up that involves him. This means he sometimes forgets to eat, sleep or even wash. It’s why he’s often caught napping.

Sometimes wonders if he’s human or alien at this point, maybe something else entirely. 

Very soft poofy hair.

Is hated by almost all his villains. He just loves pissing them off.

#ben 10 #the secret saturdays #generator rex #zak saturday #the secret saturdays zak #the secret saturdays zak saturday #Ben Tennyson #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 original series #ben 10 omniverse #Benjamin Tennyson #rex salazar #GR #Generator Rex Rex Salazar #Ben 10 Ben tennyson #Generator Rex Ben 10 Secret Saturdays #Crossover #cartoon network #redesign #Redraw #TSS #My Art

[another-sonic-blog]

By Accident Ch.2

Part one: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/618876056624054272/how-about-one-where-amy-discovers-shadow-in-stasis 

This chapter's synopsis: After waking up Shadow from stasis, Amy and the black hedgehog spend some time together before going to see the Federal Reservation Bank, home to a Chaos Emerald. However, the longer Shadow spends time with Amy the more he realizes that he is having conflicted feelings about destroying Earth. This leads him to a final resolution.

ShadAmy (Platonic/Romantic it's up to you)

5K

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  The sun began to rise as it helped the sky decorate its blue canvas with soft pastel colors. Flowers bloomed as they began to be touched by sunlight, they detached a sweet aroma that could even be smelled by the unskilled nose.

Shadow the Hedgehog looked outside the window from Amy's apartment where he could see people coming out of their houses, ready to start a new day. There was a new unknown feeling that was taking over his body. He wasn't tense, his body completely relaxed and although he didn't sleep he didn't feel tired ... He was at a complete state of tranquility. Something that he wasn't used to since leaving in the Space Colony ARK. Constant test, needles coming in and out of him, Xrays, and overexerting his body in every possible way was an everyday item to him. Although there were very loving and caring scientists at the ARK, not everyone was. Must of them saw Shadow for the living weapon that he was, nothing more and nothing less. Even Professor Gerald Robotnik saw him as such but instead of a weapon, he saw Shadow as a cure. The Ultimate Life Form, his body was perfect in every sense of the world. Undefeatable.

All the power in the world and he couldn't save the only person he truly cared for.

The black hedgehog looked at the people walking underneath him. So small and fragile but still a smile plastered on their faces. How could they be happy when their race only seeks for destruction? How can they be happy when they can only feel hate towards each other? Humanity was rotten from the very pinnacle of its core and Shadow wanted nothing more but its demise.

How can they be happy when they took away the person he loved the most?

Even with the pain, hate, and suffering inside of him ... Shadow didn't want to do it. He didn't want to destroy this pathetic planet but ...

He will do it.

The promise he made to Maria is more important than Shadow's conflicted feelings. Maria wanted revenge and for all that's sacred, Shadow was going to give it to her.

"Shadow?"

His moment of rage was broken as Shadow heard the sleepy voice of the pink hedgehog who opened the doors of her house to him. Shadow reminded himself that he shouldn't get attached to anyone, especially Amy who seemed to have her way into people's hearts ... quiet easily. However, Shadow couldn't deny that the pink hedgehog has come in handy to him. She cooks for him, gives him a roof and-

"Are you alright? Did you sleep?"'

She gives him company.

Something he didn't need nor want but it was greatly appreciated. It was going to be complicated to destroy the world she seemed to love so much, Amy will probably hate him when she finds out ... if she ever does. Shadow will try to keep the destruction of the world a secret for as long as he can. At least until he makes sure Amy is safe at the ARK and that's if she wants to come along with him.

"You know that I don't need to sleep," Shadow said still looking outside the window. A heavy sigh left Shadow's lips as if he was letting out all the anger that built up inside of him just a few moments ago. Once again he felt tranquil. "I'll be fine ... soon enough."

There were a lot of moments in which Amy questioned Shadow and if she was being completely honest there was doubt within her. The pink one knew that Shadow was hiding something. However, she decided to let the feeling go. He was just a mysterious hedgehog who wanted to go home, nothing wrong with that. Amy could trust him and she will.

"I'll cook something and then we can go to the Federal Reserve Bank of Capital City." Amy walked towards the black hedgehog. Again, she could notice that same sad look. Full of anger,  pain ... If there was a way Amy could console him, she would. But how? There was a wall around him, one where there was no way she could climb up nor go underneath. Nonetheless, she was stubborn as well. It didn't matter how long nor how many hits it took, she was going to break down Shadow's wall. 

Federal Reserve Bank?" Shadow asked this time he was facing the pink hedgehog.

"That's where the Chaos Emerald is."

.

.

.

Shadow thought that it was just a matter of eating breakfast and getting to the place where the Chaos Emerald is located. However, it seemed like the pink hedgehog had other things in mind. She took him to places that he only had seen in magazines and books back at the ARK. Places that Maria always wanted to visit.

"When I get better we definitely need to go to a shopping center! I wanna buy cute clothes and ice cream!"

"Shadow, once we go down to Earth we should go to a park! It would be nice to race against you!"  

Something was screaming in Shadow's mind, telling him to tell the pink lady to stop playing around. What surprised him the most was his level of patience, he was supposed to be completing his plan to destroy the world but instead here he was. Following a pink girl around to sightsee.

It was late afternoon now, the sun once again helps paint the blue sky with pastel colors. The only difference was this time the color palette was darker. Purples and blues showed up and Shadow mentally smacked his forehead already disappointed that he might lose this day.

Maybe he could sneak outside during the night while Amy is asleep. But what if she wakes up and doesn't find him? Will she suspect him?

And what if she does? What does that matter to him? Shadow needed to continue his plan to destroy the world, that was the only thing that mattered to him now.

"Are you enjoying yourself Shadow?" Amy asked as she looked over at the black hedgehog with a smile on herself.

"No."

"Oh ..."

Chaos gracious, Shadow doesn't even know where to start with this one. He regretted being so upfront with her even if he was speaking up his real feelings.

"My apologies, it's just that I am desperate to get a Chaos Emeralds."

Although Shadow wasn't looking directly at the people, he felt the presence of humans passing by them. Some looked, some didn't care and to be fully honest Shadow never thought he would be walking around with humans as normal as this. On the vast streets that were filled with cars, cafes, restaurants, lights, and all of these mechanical things he quite didn't understand ... yet. He was never fond of the loud sounds but this was quite amusing to him.

"No, I am sorry," Amy said. "I know you want to get home and to do that you need the Chaos Emerald but ... I don't know I just thought that maybe you would like to sightsee before you go? I also wanted to spend some time with you before we parted ways ..."

When Amy says things like this, it becomes more complicated for him to think of the destruction of the Earth. His need to protect her increased to levels that even worried him. Now it wasn't a matter of Amy wanting to come along with him to the ARK. It was as if Shadow needed her to come with him.

No, he can't let those feelings take over him. He can't get attached and he shouldn't. Not after what the world has already taken from him.

"Yes, I need to go home but that doesn't mean my journey with you ends once I get the Chaos Emerald." Shadow looked over to Amy who was walking next to him, a bit too close for his comfort but at the moment he didn't mind. "I still need to help you find your friend, remember?"

"Oh, you are right!" Amy said, a bit surprised. "Thank you Shadow, most of the time I am left behind ... So, I thought that maybe you would do the same."

This time a sad smile was placed on her face. As if Amy was remembering a nostalgic memory, maybe someone who she was found off mixed with a sad memory. Anger suddenly began to rise within the black hedgehog. Whoever dared to leave behind such a kind-hearted person like Amy was an awful creature.

However, the rosette hedgehog was back to her bubbly self. She smiled the brightest that she could and looked at Shadow with her Emerald eyes.

"But I know you won't do that to me right, Shadow?" Amy asked.

This was becoming difficult. Way too difficult. Shadow was once again conflicted with his feelings, he shouldn't care much about this girl but still he does.

"No, I won't," Shadow said and really meant it ...

So then, why did Shadow felt like he was lying?

.

.

.

The Federal Reserve Bank was one of the most secure places in Capital City, may even in the whole world. A great facility, robots, guns, lasers, soldiers, nothing that Shadow couldn't handle.

Amy and Shadow were a few meters away from it as to Shadow's request. Although the facility was on the outskirts of the city, it was still very concurred by people, especially G.U.N. agents. Shadow knew that it was better to keep his distance now.

"I have a friend who works for the government, I think we can ask her to help us convince them to lend us the Chaos Emerald-"

Amy's voice was cut off as an explosion was heard on the Federal Reserve Bank. The gates that were surrounding the facility were no longer there and Amy immediately recognized the person behind this.

"That's Dr. Eggman!" Amy said to Shadow. "I have to stop him! He must be after the Chaos Emerald."

They were hiding behind some bushes where there was not a possibility of them being detected. Amy looked at the facility once again, determination on her eyes. Maybe this time she could prove to Sonic that she could be useful.

"Who is this Dr. Eggman?" Shadow asked, trying to get Amy's attention so her mindset would move away from entering the facility.

"He is a villain. Dr. Eggman is always trying to conquer the world and he is always after the Chaos Emeralds." Amy said. "I wonder what does he need them for now."

"This information can come in handy later on."

A quick thought crossed his mind. This was it, the means as to how to start his plans. But first he needed to do something.

"I need you to go back home, I got this. I'll stop him by myself-"

"No."

Shadow quickly interrupted, Amy had such a determination on her face that could intimidate anyone ... but him.

"I don't like being left behind Shadow and I won't leave you alone either," Amy said. "He can hurt you, what if you need me to protect you?"

"From what I remember I was the one who protected you from that guard of robots a few days ago."

"And? I still helped you get out! I can take care of myself."

.

"I can take care of myself!" Maria caught the red ball with her hands, an angry look placed on her face. "I want to play too!"

"Dear, even if you feel good that doesn't mean that you are." One of the scientists approached the blond one, trying to provide her with some comfort. "But your health is very delicate, one small agitation and may end up in the infirmary again ... You don't want that do you?"

"But I want to play with Shadow!" Maria said.

"Shadow is very strong, he may even hurt you if he were to throw that ball."

The black hedgehog watched from afar, a bit sad that his best friend wasn't able to play with him the activities that he enjoyed.

"Don't worry Maria," Shadow approached her, a delicate and comforting voice coming from him. "We can read a book or do a puzzle if you want."

.

Even when Shadow tried not to compare Amy to Maria, there was an evident share of personalities within the two. This brought back a faint memory, one that he wished he could relive again.

"I know you can take care of your self," Shadow's voice changed and this took the pink one by surprise. "I don't want you to come with me ... because I don't want you to get hurt."

Shadow the Hedgehog was the Ultimate Life Form but even he had failed to protect the one he cared for the most. His failure was something that will always hunt him in the form of insecurity. He was the Ultimate Life Form and he failed to protect a little girl. Who is he to say that the same thing won't happen to Amy? What if he can't protect her? What if he can't be there when she needs him?  

"It's not like I don't trust your abilities ..." Shadow made a pause as he took a moment to appreciate Amy's emerald eyes. "It's more like I don't trust myself to protect you if need me to."

There it was again, that sadness, that painful look. There was a reason behind his insecurity and although Amy wanted to know why she knew she couldn't do that at the moment. Just what had happed to Shadow that made him be this insecure about himself? Heck, Amy was utterly impressed when she saw him destroy that guard of robots back at Prison Island. He had unique and amazing abilities ... but even he had his insecurities.

"Will you be back by dinner?"

Maybe, she was finally understanding the black hedgehog. Amy now knew that she wouldn't be able to break down the wall that Shadow had built up around him no matter how much she tried to destroy it. It was a matter of giving Shadow time, space, and understanding ... And that way maybe ... He would be the one to destroy his wall.

The dark hedgehog gave Amy a small smirk, one that pierced through the pink hedgehog's heart. Hopefully, she would be there to see more of that enchanting smile.

"I'll try my best," Shadow replied.

"You will come back, right?"

Almost like plead, Shadow's heart begged him to not stay away from the pink hedgehog. To forget everything and to not destroy the planet that Amy seemed to love so much.

But he couldn't. Shadow had made a promise to the most important person in the universe, to Maria ... and he always keeps his promises.

"I promise."

.

.

.

Obtaining the Chaos Emerald was too easy. The black and red striped hedgehog even felt a little bit guilty that he took down every single agent and robot at the facility. In his hands now was a green Chaos Emerald.

"It all starts with this ... A jewel containing the ultimate power," For a moment, Shadow was lost in the beauty of the green Chaos Emerald. How could something so small be so beautiful yet powerful? In a sense, the Chaos Emerald reminded him of someone he knew.

"You rat! What do you think you are doing with my Chaos Emerald?"

Although Shadow didn't recognize the voice, he wasn't scared of it much less intimidated by it. There was complete silence between them. The only thing surrounding them was the metal room in which Shadow had stolen the Chaos Emerald. Slowly, he turned around coming face to face with the so-called Dr. Eggman.

"My name is Shadow, I am one of Gerald Robotnik's greatest creation ... The Ultimate Life Form." Shadow said. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Doctor."

Although Dr. Eggman was surprised that this black hedgehog knew his grandfather's name, thanks to his great thinking abilities he was putting all the pieces together.

"You are the military's top-secret weapon! The one that the military shut down the research because they feared it!" Eggman said on top of his robot. Shadow had to admit the whole scene was comical even. He could tell why Amy called him Eggman but if the black hedgehog wanted the human to do as he pleases, it was better to not say that nickname.

"A few days ago I found my grandfather's old research files and dairy. He wrote about the greatest weapon he has ever created ... Project Shadow," Eggman was still keeping his distance, not knowing how dangerous could this hedgehog be. "I was looking for you in Prison Island, just to find that you were no longer there ... How did you even escape?"

That was something that Shadow didn't dare to say. He didn't want to involve Amy in any way into his devilish plans. He decided to ignore his question and instead focused on the information that was given to him.

"Because you are the grandchild of my creator, I'll grant you one wish," Shadow said. "Bring more Chaos Emeralds."

"Shadow wait!"

"I'll be waiting for you in the central control room on the space colony, ARK."

.

.

.

Shadow was enjoying this too much. The police, soldiers, agents, everyone was after him. Although he could easily use Chaos Control, a part of him wanted himself to be known to the world. Shadow wanted this planet to know that he was here, that they should start to feel despair, pain, and suffering just like he felt it. Just like he was feeling it.

Destroying the Federal Reserve Bank brought him a certain pleasure, was this what revenge felt like? If he was being completely honest, it was quite lovely.

Standing proud of at the tallest bridge of Capital City, Shadow the Hedgehog looked down on the humans. So small, so weak and pathetic and they still managed to outsmart the ultimate life form 50 years ago in the ARK.

The sounds of police sirens and helicopters around him made Shadow smile, did they really think their machines are good enough to stop him?

"Hmf ... How pathetic ..." The words left his mouth but as soon as they did, he remembered what had happened on the ARK. Yes, he was the Ultimate Life Form. However, he shouldn't let that fact make him underestimate the humans. They were more deadly than they looked.

.

"Find them before they escape!"

Shadow did everything he could so Maria's small hand didn't slip away from his. Her breathing was becoming more agitated, and Shadow feared that her weak lungs would explode at any moment.

Gunshots were heard and without noticing Maria had been shot right in front of him. Everything happened so fast that Shadow didn't know how to react, what to do. He had been trained to be many things, a weapon, a cure ... but Shadow had never learned how to be a savior ... A hero.

"Maria!"

In the next moment, he was trapped. A crystal capsule surrounded him and Shadow was again lost. He couldn't do anything. The black hedgehog only stood there, watching his only family bleeding to death. Maria sacrificed herself to save him, to put him to safety. Shadow was supposed to be the one to save her. After all, he was her hope all along for a happy and normal life on Earth.

"Shadow, I beg of you ... Please do it for me."

"Maria!"

"For all the people ... on that planet ..."

No matter how much Shadow screamed her name, she wouldn't listen. The Ultimate Life Form was reduced to helplessness. To nothing, he just wanted this nightmare to end. For Chaos, for everything sacred in this universe ... He swore to never sleep again if that meant he will never have this nightmare.

"Sayonara ... Shadow the Hedgehog."

.

He couldn't do anything back then. But now, Shadow was going to do anything in his power to get revenge. Nothing else crossed his mind, although the memory of the pink hedgehog wanted to make its way trough. He suppressed the thought, knowing that if he let his mind go to Amy the sudden rage of destroying everything will disappear. The black hedgehog didn't need that right now, all he needed at the moment, was anger, rage, and determination.

Starting right this moment, he didn't care about anyone or anything. He will seek destruction, he will full fill his promise. Shadow will make everyone feel the pain, the suffering, the no-ending nightmare that was his life.

Just how dare they? How dare these humans walk away as if nothing happened? Like they just didn't destroy his whole universe? His purpose to live?

These were the same thoughts he was having early this morning until a sweet voice interrupted him.

Amy made him have second thoughts and doubts about destroying the world.

But she wasn't here now to remind him of that.

"Maria, I still remember what I promised you, for the people of this planet ... I promise you ... Revenge!"

.

.

.

The dark hedgehog had already finished defeating the guars of the military that was after him. It didn't take him long and his satisfaction was short-lived, therefore he decided to go downtown where he could cause a little more of despair within the population. He looked around the city, sightly enjoying the lights and how perfectly they illuminated the city.

Suddenly, something caught his attention. It wasn't the tall buildings, nor restaurants nor how there were no people at the moment.

It was a blue hedgehog, who was fighting a G.U.N robot. It was pretty big and Shadow would have liked to take down that robot as well but seeing that the blue hedgehog was almost done with, he decided to not interfere. Shadow had to admit that the blue hedgehog had good skills for the regular Mobian. Watching from the rooftop of a close-by building, Shadow thought that maybe this could turn out to be an interesting fight.

The black hedgehog landed on top of G.U.N's robot as he threw the Chaos Emerald up and down, playing with it to get the blue hedgehog's attention.

"Now, I know what's going on!" the blue hedgehog said as he approached Shadow, looking directly up at him. "The military has mistaken me for the likes of you!"

Shadow reminds quiet, it was amusing to see that the blue one had the guts to face him. The black hedgehog wanted a fight but he didn't think it was going to be that easy.

"So, where do you think you're going with that Emerald?!" The blue hedgehog raised his voice, tired that Shadow wasn't saying a word. He began to run this time. "Say something! You fake hedgehog!"

"Well, let's play."

Throwing up the Chaos Emerald and then catching it, Shadow only said two words.

"Chaos Control!"

Greenlight eradiated from the Chaos Emerald and Shadow felt his whole body go through an energy shock. It was a sensation that was long forgotten but it wasn't uncomfortable. In the next moment, there he was up close to the blue hedgehog.

For a moment, everything went in slow motion. Blue met black as they crossed next to each other, Shadow finally took a good look on Sonic's features. He was just a regular blue hedgehog, but his green eyes remind him of someone.

Amy's emerald eyes.

"Damn it, I forgot! I promised her I was going to be back!"

Shadow mentally face palmed himself, he felt so stupid for letting his uncontrolled emotions take over him so easily.

"And tragically, I didn't make it for dinner either."

Shadow decided to teleport back to the top of the building where he could see again the blue hedgehog. Why did he even think this was a good idea? He was just wasting time.

"Wow ... he's fast!" The blue one said. "But wait ... Its not speed! He must be using the Chaos Emerald to warp!"

Oh, well at least the blue one offered him some type of entertainment. The least he could do was to introduce himself before he goes off to Amy's apartment.

"My name is Shadow, I'm the world's ultimate life form." The black hedgehog was once again playing with the green Chaos Emerald, mocking the inability of the blue hedgehog. "There's no time for games ... Farewell."

Shadow used the Chaos Emerald to create a great amount of energy, it was so bright that it blinded Sonic for the moment.

"Shadow ... What is he?"

And then he was gone.

"I better investigate this ... Just after months of not seeing Amy and Tails ... I come back to the city to see them and this happens-"

"Don't move! Stay where you are! Keep your hands up in the air!"

Sonic's thoughts were interrupted as in few seconds, the blue blur was surrounded by G.U.N's trucks, soldiers, and helicopters.

"Huh? Not again!"

.

.

.

Like a teenager coming back from a party that he wasn't supposed to go, Shadow entered Amy's apartment through the living room's window.

He tried to be quiet but of course the pink hedgehog was waiting for him. Amy was wearing her pink pajamas, messy hair, and tired eyes. She was sitting on the couch, in front of a small table. On top of it, a plate of food was wrapped with plastic paper, Shadow could tell the food was long cold.

But his heart wasn't.

Far from it, actually.

"My apologies, were you waiting for me?"

Shadow was finally inside the apartment, his voice was soft. For a small moment, he looked over to the lamp that lightly illuminated the room, giving him enough light to see Amy. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes."

Growl

As if destiny wanted to prove Amy wrong, her stomach let out a loud growl, showing that she hasn't eaten anything since she last saw Shadow.

"I wanted to eat with you," Amy defended herself. A bit shy and embarrassed that Shadow watched her being this vulnerable. "How did it go? Did you defeat Eggman?"

Shadow nodded, he watched Amy stand up from the couch. The pink lady slowly walked towards him where she could see him better thanks to the moonlight coming from outside the window. Shadow's vermillion eyes glowed even brighter. The first time Amy saw his eyes, they were a bit terrifying. But now, she found a strange sense of comfort within them. Red pools that wanted to say so much, but couldn't.

"Did you get the Chaos Emerald?"

"Yes,"

"Are you going home now?"

"...Yes."

Amy's heart shrunk a little when he accepted it. They had been together for a couple of days but they had built a special bond. She knew this won't be the last time she would see him ... So, why does she feels like this?

"I need to go home but I'll come back to you when the time is right."

Even for Shadow, it was hard to say those words. But why? His heart stopped beating as he watched Amy's face change.

It was as if she knew everything, about his past. About his plan to destroy the Earth, about his dark thoughts.

But her face showed such calmness, such softness ... It wasn't pitying, it was compassion.

She was giving him comfort, without Amy knowing it.

"I'll be here whenever you need me,"

This time, Amy smiled. She knew that Shadow needed to follow his journey and to discover himself on his own. However, if there was any way she could help, then she would make it clear that she would be here for him. No matter what.

"Would you ... Would you really be here?"

Amy couldn't tell all too well, but she knew that his voice had cracked. His voice was filled with such grief that Amy herself felt like crying. That insecurity was showing up again in Shadow and this time it was breaking him. His voice was a quiet plead. He was like a sinner seeking forgiveness, like a vagabond seeking a home.  

"Yes, I'll be here ... I promise."

The rosette hedgehog was something or rather say someone who Shadow has been looking for since the day Maria died. Something that he thought he lost forever. He had only known the pink hedgehog for a couple of days but she had shown him so much. She offered him such unconditional sentiment and comfort that made his heart feel at peace.

But was that enough to forget a promise?

No.

"When I come back, I'll help you find your friend. How does this individual look like?"

"No need. Honestly, he must be traveling somewhere. I have my ways of finding him, so don't worry about that," the pink lady was getting closer to Shadow but now he didn't mind the closeness of it at all. "Besides, something tells me that you have more important things to do that to help me find Sonic."

The black hedgehog still wonders who was this person who seemed to be so important to the pink one. Why would anyone want to be away from her? When all that Shadow wanted to do was to be close to her?  

"I'll come back soon enough, don't get in any trouble alright?" Shadow took one last good look at Amy, fully appreciating her soft features. Nonetheless, his eyes landed on hers. How come he didn't notice earlier? Amy's green emerald eyes were even more beautiful than the Chaos Emerald he was hiding.

"No promises!" Amy said playfully as Shadow walked towards the window, ready to disappear into the distance.

Although his heart was begging him to not leave, he knew that this was for the better. He needed to figure out things by himself and hopefully, he could get rid of the strange feeling that was starting to make its way into his heart.

"I'll come back," Shadow said. What the black hedgehog didn't know was that he would see Amy soon enough, in a circumstance he wished Amy wouldn't see him in.

"I know," Amy gives him a reassuring smile, one that made his heart and soul feel ... tranquil.

"You promised me."

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A/N: The hardest part of this chapter was the ending. It took me a very long time to figure out how this conversation. Shadow, a lost, suffering soul ... and Amy, an idealist who sees the best in everyone. I guess I really wanted to show Shadow's mains traits in this chapter. His determination, insecurity, and caring side. No matter how much he tries to not let 'superficial' feelings get to him, he always ends up caring for others. He does not want to destroy the planet earth, but he is still going to do it because he 'promised' it to Maria. I wanted to show Shadow's inner conflict and how much that affects him. He is going to have his lows on this story but you all know how it's gonna end. I am really trying to stay 'in character' for these two. This won't be your super 'mushy lovey-dovey fanfiction story.' This story is going to be more like 'the reasons why Shadow and Amy have such great potential as a couple, romantic and non-romantic'. I want to highlight both characters' traits, weaknesses, and strengths as I give a new approach to this iconic story.

Also, I just realized that Sonic never introduces himself to Shadow but after they are at the ARK racing each other. So, if I can I'll have Shadow at the end be like 'Oh, so you are the hedgehog Amy is looking for!"

On the side note, I am already preparing for the big ANGST moment. Well, two main angst moments, I am sure you can figure the two moments out. I honestly can't wait for all of you to read it.

I want this story to be around 10 chapters long. But, it may be more or less. It all really depends on how much I can make out of the SA2 story. I'll be pulling out things from the hero and dark stories to finish this.

Anyways, that's all I have to say for now. I think, lol.

See you next time on Prison Island!

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