#also decided to open ms paint for once

[tdutb]

since i used to draw these little guysos as moths a lot, i have decided to draw trophy (flannel moth) and cheesy (yellow tussock moth)

heavily inspired to do this from @solgavee

[cherrynflowergarden]

disgusting(ly in love) || matt sturniolo

an; hiiii my loves how are y'all?? someone please give me some ideas for this i wanna make one for chris too:( this was originally supposed to be for 10 mins but i ran out of ideas and ended up making it 8 mins THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU ALL<33

summary; a youtube compilation of matt and yn being in love for 8 mins.

tagged; @t1llysblogs

matt was bored. and on youtube. having stumbled upon a video titled "MATT AND YN BEING DISGUSTING(LY IN LOVE)!!!??? tw happy couple (ew)" he decided he had nothing better to do than watch this.

clip one; sleeping beauties

the clip started with nick going down the stairs and screaming for matt. what he didn't know was yn, matt's girlfriend had stayed over.

expecting matt to be awake, he pushed the door open with his vlog camera on.

there laid matt and yn, all cuddled up on the bed. the blanket covered their tangled legs yet the way matt held his girl against his chest was enough to make everyone jealous of the couple. near them mr wrinkleton, matt's pug plushie and ms bubbles, yn's rabbit plushie cuddled too, almost making it look just like the couple in plushie forms.

a small laugh left nick, as he zoomed the camera into their faces.

clip two; twitch stream

matt was streaming on twitch with his brothers while his girlfriend went out on lunch with her friends.

coming back home, yn did not expect to hear shouts from each brother's room. assuming they were only playing video games with each other, she yelled "honeyyyyyy i'm homeeeeee" right as she entered in matt's room. not giving him any time to answer the girl skipped her way to her boyfriend and sat on his lap; all excited to tell him about the latest gossip session she had with her girls.

but that could wait for a while.

he looked so beautiful that she couldn't help but wrap her arms around his neck, giving a sweet kiss on his lips. pulling away she kissed his cheeks and mumbled "god you're so cute".

giggling softly, the boy pulled her face up and said "thank you baby" she was about to say something when chris screamed "OH MY VIRGIN EYES". laughing at the way her eyes got wide, matt explained "we're streaming baby"

clip three; birthday gift

sometimes yn vloged. since the triplets' birthday was coming soon, she decided to vlog the entire process of shopping for the brothers.

twelve minutes into the video, she was all set and ready with meaningful gifts for each brother. once she put all the gifts in separate bags for each brother, she smiled at the camera. "finally. it was such a tiring day. now only one thing is left to do. y'all remember the paints i brought? well we're doing a fun little craft." taking out the red and pink paints, she went to grab a plain black tshirt.

cutting a heart stencil out of a paper, she stuck the paper to the tshirt's back. applying the fabric paint on her lips she started kissing the cloth between the cutout paper heart. applying different shades of pink and red, she filled kisses in the shape of a heart. laughing at her now smudged 'lipstick' she showed the camera her now ready gift.

"gonna let it dry now. i think i will maybe do something in the front also. not sure. will keep you guys updated!!"

safe to say, matt loved his gift so much that he demanded another kiss tshirt so that he could wear her kisses every day.

clip four; beach

this was a short clip from the hawaii vlog. the triplets, yn, maddie and nate where walking to the beach near hotel. well not all of them were walking through.

yn decided she was too tired to walk today and matt being the absolute angel he is, let her to hop on his back as he carried the girl to the beach.

maddie had vlogged matt carrying his girl on his back, humming to whatever she had to say. the camera captured matt listening carefully to his girlfriend as she spoke animatedly about penguins. the last thing the camera captured was yn repeatedly kissing the boy's cheek as he smiled before chris pushed the couple claiming "it was sick to watch people in love"

clip five; beach again

this was a clip from the same vlog as the last. matt and yn were seen enjoying in the water. splashing water against eachother their joyous laughs could be heard.

suddenly matt lifted the girl up, enjoying her screams of fear. dropping her a little, matt laughed harder as his girl tightened her hold on his neck. "matt i swear to god if you throw me in the water" laughing at her empty threats, matt dropped her down a little.

"MATTEW STURNIOLO"

"but baby i love you" he said as he completely dropped her down.

clip six; deaf, mute and blind challenge

yn sometimes participated in the triplets' videos. right now she was a part of the deaf mute and blind challenge. nick and chris were deaf, matt was mute and she was blind.

it was tough to be blind when she was only one who could actually cook something but nothing goes according to her wish, right?

which brings us to this moment. yn, desperately trying to find the bowl which contained the pancake mixture. looking at his struggling girlfriend, matt came behind her and pulled the bowl towards them. putting the whisk in her hand, he grabbed her from behind and helped her whisk the ingredients together. mumbling a small thank you the girl was finally relieved as the process was almost over.

all while nick and chris danced and screamed to doja cat.

clip seven; grwm

yn was filming a get ready with me to go to a date. while she was putting the make up on, her boyfriend entered the room. saying a quick hi to him she turned back to explain her makeup process to her followers.

"—oh y'all need to try this mascara. it's sooooo good. i literally cried—" hugging the girl matt cut off her rant. he squeezed the girl in his arms as she turned around to place a kiss on his cheek. laughing at the bright red stain her lipstick left on his cheeks she tried to grab a tissue to wipe it off. protesting against it, the boy pulled her closer to him.

clip eight; dancing in the snow

the clip was from a random vlog yn posted. it started off with yn putting her vlog camera on the car's bonet and running towards matt. the two, fully covered in wools from head to toe danced in the snow without any music.

matt twirled his girl, a small laugh leaving him as the girl lost balance and collided with him, pushing the two to the ground.

it may seem silly to others, dancing without any music or laughing like madmen in the snow but to them this was the best moment of their life.

as the video ended, matt pouted at the screen. he now missed his girlfriend. he decided to facetime his girl not knowing chris was right behind him and he recorded matt smiling and blushing at moments with his girlfriend. probably this would end up in another compilation of matt and yn being in love.

[muwapsturniolo]

✯𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝✯

chris x black earthy/boho!reader

IN WHICH…Y/n finds a peace of mind with her lover, and his two brothers.

WARNINGS: nothing besides smoking.

5 a.m.

It was 5 a.m on a Sunday and Y/n couldn't sleep, her mind racing intangible thoughts. With a sigh she carefully sits up, attempting to not wake up her sleeping boyfriend. She successfully does so and begins moving around the room, gathering the items she would need.

She exits the room once she gathers everything, and walks down the hallway, peaking into the guest room to check on Nick and Matt. They decided to come over with Chris and ended up spending the night. She didn't have a problem with it, always hating being alone.

She found their company relieving.

Seeing that the two are still sound asleep, she continues her trek through the big house. She arrives in the kitchen where she grabs a bottle of kombucha out of the fridge, making her way outside barefoot.

She shudders as the crisp california air nips at her skin, not use to the cold that comes in the early morning, and leaves before it even hits 12 p.m. She takes a seat on her poolside couch and sets up her camera, pressing record before rolling up.

"It's currently 5 a.m. and I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come outside and journal while the sun rises." She speaks to the camera softly, her eyes trained on the grinded-up plant in front of her. "The boys spent the night and are currently still sleeping. It was nice having them over, not having to be alone." She lights the joint and inhales the smoke, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling.

"I'm not sure why I hate being alone so much, I think it's because I came from a big family and I'm not used to quiet...Granted it's never quiet considering my thoughts are always loud but I digress." She stops talking and flips open to an empty page, starting to write all of her thoughts and feelings down. She leaves the camera rolling, figuring she would just make it a time-lapse with some copyright-free neo-soul music playing over it.

She wasn't a typical YouTuber, never doing big fancy things and showing off. She was a more peaceful and serene one, her videos consisting of her lifestyle and talking about her feelings.

Her videos that have done well so far are her lifestyle vlogs, the main points being her smoking, painting, cooking, and shopping for crystals. It seems as if the viewers also love her monthly vinyl reviews, finding the way she expressed her love for music interesting.

That's how Chris found her.

He was looking for a YouTube video to watch before bed and he saw a thumbnail of hers. She was smoking in the thumbnail, a wall of vinyl's behind her as the title read, "fav vinyls this month".

He won't lie, he clicked on it because she was pretty, but he stayed for her personality and the raw emotions she expressed as she talked about the Fugees.

To say the least he went down a rabbit hole and watched all her videos that night, adding some of her favorite songs to a playlist.

Speaking of the boy...

She turned around hearing the patio door open, a soft smile gracing her face seeing her half-asleep boyfriend making his way towards her. "Why the hell are you up so early? And why did you leave me?" He questions plopping down next to her. "Couldn't sleep and I didn't want to bother you with my tossing and turning...Why are you up so early?"

"You know I can't sleep without you." He fixes her legs so he can lay in between them, sighing out as his head meets her soft and plush thighs. She smiles softly and runs her nails along his scalp, caressing his face at the same time. "What were you thinking about?" He mumbles when he notices the journal and pen.

She shrugs, "I'm not sure... My mind was just loud." He opens his eyes and looks up at her in worry. She notices and shakes her head, "Nothing bad, don't worry baby." He nods and relaxes back against her body.

The two lay on the couch in comfortable silence as they experience the twilight, listening to the birds chirp as they awaken from their peaceful slumber. The pool rumbles softly as it begins to clean itself, the water rippling due to the vibrations.

"This is nice," she looks down hearing Chris's groggy voice. "Hm?''

"I said this is nice... Laying here and watching the sunrise with you, not having to worry about what the day brings." She hums in agreement and watches as the skies turn from dark blue to hues of pink, purple, and orange.

The sunrise reflects off of the rippling water of the pool, casting a warm glow on the two bodies. Y/n tilts her head back as she basks in the warm rays. It seems as if her thoughts finally quieted down, giving her a chance to be calm.

Chris stares at his girlfriend, his heart swelling in admiration seeing her in her natural habitat. He truly believed she wasn't meant to be in LA. She was meant to be somewhere that had a bunch of greenery, somewhere that had a waterfall right under the sun so she could bask in it like a cat. Somewhere where she could be free and at peace.

"I can feel you staring at me," she looks down at Chris whose face has a hue of red. "Just admiring you. I can't admire my girlfriend now?" She giggles and motions for him to sit up. She pulls him into a soft kiss, enjoying the warmth of his lips.

"It's six thirty and you two are already being gross." The couple pulls away and looks at a half-awake Nick, and a sluggish Matt. The two make their way over and sit on the ground in front of the couch. "Shut up, I was enjoying time alone with my girlfriend since you two decided to crash last night." Y/n watches as Chris and Nick go back and forth, their banter not making sense since they are both still tired.

"Can both of you shut the hell up? It's early and you two are bitching for no reason." Matt grunts. Chris huffs before settling back down against Y/n, burying his face in her stomach. He kisses the brown skin before fiddling with her waist beads.

The quad dives into a conversation, not talking about anything important per say but just talking. They soon fall into silence, enjoying the peace before they have to go back to their busy lives. Not long after, Y/n's brown cat Janelle, joins them causing Matt to gasp in excitement.

As he plays with her, Y/n rolls another blunt. "I wish I could do this every day. Your house just makes me feel at home." Nick breathes out.

"That's funny considering I only find it to be homey when you guys are here." She grabs her lighter and sparks the pink wrap, inhaling it before handing it to Chris. She watches as the smoke cascades in the sun, creating shapes of different sizes.

"Wouldn't it be crazy if we all just lived with each other?" Matt voices, his tone light as he plays with the cat.

"I wouldn't be opposed to it...We are always with each other anyway." Nick adds.

"I would like that honestly," Chris eyes Y/n as she speaks, his heart racing at her words. He knows it's too soon, the two of them have only been with each other for 7 months. However he knows she's the one, his family loves her, his friends love her, he loves her. She came into his life and watered him like a plant, helping him bloom into something more.

"Fuck it, let's do it!" Everyone turns to Chris in surprise.

"Huh?"

Chris sits up and turns his body towards Y/n, "Let's move in with each other...I mean you hate living alone and we are always over anyway. Let's move in with each other."

"Are you sure Chris?" Y/n wants to scream and dance in excitement at the thought of her best friends and boyfriend living with her, but the sensible part of her isn't sure. Granted they have been friends for a year but she and Chris have only been dating for 7 months. "Yeah, I don't have a problem living with you, I think it would be great... I want this relationship to go somewhere...I think you're the one for me."

Y/n feels her eyes burning as the salty tears form, slowly descending down her face. Chris chuckles and pulls the girl into him, holding her tightly.

They all sit in silence, letting Y/n get her emotions out.

After a few minutes, Y/n sniffles and pulls away from Chris.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"I'm in... I want you guys to move in with m-" Before she can finish her last word, she's dogpiled by the three boys, all of them laughing and shouting in excitment.

"Yes! This is so exciting! I'm going to love having a fully decorated house!"

"I get to see Janelle every day!"

"And I get to love on you every day!" Chris pulls her into a deep kiss, ignoring the groans of Nick and Matt.

The two brothers stand up and walk back into the house, leaving the couple alone once again.

They pull away from the kiss, their foreheads touching as they look each other in the eyes, both of their bodies full of love and tranquility.

"I love you," Chris whispers, his voice holding nothing but affection.

"I love you too"

The two lean in once again, their lips touching softly and tenderly.

The sun shines directly in front of them, the camera only able to see the silhouettes of the lovers.

i was in a fluffly mood so i hope yall like it💕

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n @freshsturns @adoreindie

[juniperskye]

Bangin’

Summary: I’m back with more hair stylist reader!!!  Eddie finally graduated from Hawkins High and moved to New York City. There was definitely a culture shock, but he was finding it easier to fit in there than back in Hawkins. The one thing he was having trouble with however, was his hair management. His neighbor in the trailer park, Ms. Sweeny, used to cut his hair for him, but now living in a new city…he needed to find a good salon. The events of season 4 did not happen.

Eddie Munson x Hair Stylist (Fem)Reader (she’s kind of sunshiny emo lol also she’s described to have colored hair, tattoos, and piercings)

Fluff

Word count: 977

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, no use of y/n, half assed salon info, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Eddie let out a huff of air in attempt to blow his bangs out of his eyes. His hair had been pulled back into a low messy bun, to keep it out of his face while he moved stage equipment for tonight’s show.

He had moved to New York six months ago after finally graduating from Hawkins High. The big move hadn’t come as a surprise to his friends back home, they all knew that Eddie was destined for greatness. The day he left, he made a promise to Garreth, Jeff and Grant, letting them know that the band wasn’t dead, and he’d be waiting for them to join him in the city when they graduated. That same day, Wayne handed Eddie an envelope, letting him know he had been saving it to ensure Eddie could get by until he had a steady job.

Wayne had pulled Eddie into a tight embrace and they both sniffed, ensuring to keep themselves composed. Refusing to shed any tears. They had separated, shared a curt nod and then Eddie got in his van and drove off.

New York had been everything he had dreamed of, the hustle and bustle of the city was far more his speed than that of suburban Hawkins. He had gotten a job at this bar; it was a few blocks away from his apartment and they had needed someone to bartend and help out with the bands that played there. Eddie had jumped at the opportunity, and he had mentioned his band upon his employment.

The owner of the bar had told Eddie to get him a demo tape and that he would decide if they would play there. He’d been overjoyed when the manager expressed interest after hearing the tape, telling Eddie that as soon as his friends got to NYC they’d have a place to play.

But that was still a few months off. Until then, Eddie would have to make himself useful at the bar. Which is how he currently found himself setting up amps on the stage for tonight’s show. The bar was pretty warm, heating had kicked on to combat the chill from outside. Which is exactly why Eddie had pulled his hair into a lazy bun, only now it wasn’t the heat that was getting to him, but his unruly curls that framed his face.

“Hey man, once the stage is set, you’re good to go for the night. I appreciate you coming in on your day off to help.” Carol, the bar manager, informed Eddie.

“Thanks Carol!” Eddie said, blowing his bangs out of his face once more.

“Cutting Edge.” Carol said.

“What?” Eddie questioned.

“Cutting Edge, it’s a salon over on Bleecker. The hairstylist there can fix up those bangs.” Carol informed as she walked to the back office.

“Hey, thanks!” Eddie called after her.

Once the stage was all set up, Eddie grabbed his stuff and made his way over to Bleecker. He walked past an assortment of restaurants, shops, barbers, until he found your salon. Tucked between Joe’s pizza and The Paw Spa was a tiny salon, on the front window painted in clean white letters were the words “Cutting Edge” with a pair of scissors painted below.

As Eddie entered, a small bell rang out from above the door. He looked over to see two hair cutting stations and two shampoo stations, there was a narrow hallway that seemingly led back to additional space. The salon was designed using mostly black and white accents, checkered floors, bright walls, polaroids lined the wall behind the front desk. In the pictures, Eddie took note of the incredible haircuts and colors that the patrons in the images wore.

“I’ll be right with you hon.” Your warm voice called out over the buzzing of the clippers.

“No rush, thank you.” Eddie replied.

He watched as you faded the sides of this guy’s haircut. The top had been longer, curly and blue, but you had brought the sides in with a perfectly blended fade. As you turned the chair Eddie noticed the design you had lined in his hair. He was in awe of how meticulous you had been in your work.

That is when his gaze shifted to you. You took his breath away, with your black and pink hair, your septum piercing and the tattoos that littered your exposed arms.

“Alright Theo, your total today is, $15. Thank you so much for coming in!” You greeted.

“Thank you! The cut is great, and the color has been holding up well. I’ll call you to schedule a root touch up soon.” Theo suggested before making his leave.

“How can I help you?” You greeted Eddie, finally noticing how handsome he is.

“I uh, I just need a trim. My hair is in my eyes all the time and it’s driving me insane.” Eddie explained,

“Absolutely! Come on back and have a seat.” You gestured to your station.

Eddie sat and you asked him a few questions to gauge how short he wanted his hair. You had inquired about the last time he had a trim and what his current haircare routine was. Once you’d started cutting his hair, he’d been able to ask you a few questions. He’d asked about your taste in music, how long you had been in New York, and how you got into hair.

By then you were done with his hair, and he couldn’t help but feel saddened by the fact that it was over. He wanted to keep talking to you, it had been so easy, he didn’t want it to end.

“Are you done for the evening?” Eddie inquired.

“I am, I just have to close up.” You explained.

“Would you want to come see this band at the bar I work at?” Eddie offered.

“I would love to.” You smiled.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Adopt-A-Jophiel Part 3

Past =-= Next

Author's note: The wonderful @egrets-not-regrets and I collaborated and wrote this part of Jophiel's story in Mermay, where Erriox and Lenora meet and adopt my Primaris Blood Angel Jophiel. Thanks to @egrets-not-regrets for allowing me to borrow the pair of cuties and collaborating on this fic with me! If you haven't already, please go check out @egrets-not-regrets writing they are very good at it! Thank you for @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric. Also thanks to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Roland and Arnault, they are more mentioned than here. So this is going to be a three parter.

Summary: Jophiel gets to meet up with two of his favorite brothers, Claude and Cedric. They get to meet his Mom and not-dad older brother-cousin Erriox.

Warnings: Unhealthy coping skills, mentions of attempted self harm, let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

The next morning Jophiel waited excitedly for Lenora’s arrival at the beach where they usually meet. He couldn’t wait for her to see his new look. Jophiel feels so much better,  he's more sure of himself, now that he no longer looks like an almost exact copy of someone dearly departed and much missed.

He chirped out a hello as the osprey harpy landed. Lenora gasped when she saw the Primaris mer. 

“Oh Skymother! You look so different! How do you feel?” She asks, knowing that his own appearance was causing him so much grief. 

“Better. Less worried now.” Jophiel trills back, “I am still not sure if this will work, but I don’t look like my gene-father anymore.” He adds, slightly unsure. 

“Small jumps are still progress.” Lenora croons, reassuring the winged mer. She walks a circle around him, appraising his new look, stopping in front of him. 

“Open your wings?”

Jophiel does as she asked and the harpy laughs brightly. He quickly pulls his wings closed.

“What’s wrong?! Why are you laughing?” He whines, feeling flustered and slightly upset at her reaction.

Lenora quiets and looks at him fondly, “Oh Fledgling, nothing is wrong. Just Mara thinks of herself as amusing, painting your wings to look like mine. She even painted your whole back brown. See?”

The harpy opens her wings and Jophiel does the same, tilting his head as he looks back and forth from her underwings to his. Mara really did paint them to match Lenora’s. Jophiel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own. 

“You are indeed my fledgling now.” She said  warmly, reaching up to pat his cheek.

“Oh,” he squeaks, cheeks flushing as he peers down at her,”then … unless you or… anyone objects… I would be very honored and flattered if that was true…”

He says the last sentence very hurriedly and mumbles the words. Rather than speak the words out loud properly, Peeking down at her a little.

Lenora smiles at him, “I have no objections, and neither would Erriox.”

“Really?!” He says with hope in his red eyes sparkling down at her.

“You are one of our own.” She confirms to the mer.

“I would Be so Happy to be yours and Erriox's Fledgling,” Jophiel Replied. 

Lenora laughs, “Though I would suggest that you still call yourself Erriox’s younger cousin or brother in public. You might get strange looks otherwise.”

“That does sound like a good idea,” Jophiel agrees After a few moments of thought.

He learns from his Gannet Aunties and Lenora about some of the various rituals that can be done to inform those around them of their family status. He, Erriox, and Lenora decide which one that they think suits them best.

Once everything is prepared and things are gathered and an auspicious date has been set they gather at the Gannet Harpy’s Roosting Rock and the ceremony starts with Auntie Mara officiating the ceremony, informing all what they are gathered here for (as a matter of formality) and the three main participants talk about how much they have grown to love and care for one another.

“Jophiel,” Lenora says, calling out to her son by heart and choice,”will you do me the great honor of being my son?”

“Yes, mother Lenora,” Jophiel replies as he gently holds one of Lenora’s clawed hands, “I would like to become your fledgling in the eyes of all present for now and for always, so long as you hold affection for me in your heart.”

Erriox has gently reached out to hold Lenora’s other clawed hand and Jophiel's unencumbered hand and starts to say his piece.

“Younger brother of my hearts, dearest cousin,” Erriox states, “will you accept these titles as well?”

“I do, elder brother, older cousin,” Jophiel replies gently squeezing both of their hands.

Mara agrees that all present are willing to become tied as family and some flower petals are tossed in the air as everyone cheers and a wonderful party begins to form around them. The party lasts for hours into the day and night. 

Jophiel remembers the next morning dancing and flying with almost everyone at the party and stretches his wings. Erroix and Lenora had decided to nest with him that night and he let out a happy purr, cuddling into his Chosen family.

A few days later Jophiel asks Lenora to help him with waterproofing and touching up the pattern on his wings. Erriox assists the pair for part of the process, but had received a message from some of his Shoal requesting his help with something and had bid the pair of them farewell. Lenora and Jophiel wish Erriox a happy hunt as they watch him leave. 

After the ointment dries, Lenora and he go for a brief flight to search for something to hunt when Jophiel gets a call over his vox. He tells Lenora before heading off in the direction that he was told and to his great joy, some of his fellow Primaris brothers, cousins now due to their assignment, meet up with him halfway.

Claude and Cedric notice the changes in the colorations of Jophiel’s wings and hair, and how much happier he is. They all hug and talk about what they have been up to since the last time they meet as Jophiel guides them to Lenora.

“Cedric, Claude,” Jophiel says, his wings rustling with delight. “This is my mother, Lenora.”

“Your … mother?” They parrot back at him in stunned unison.

“We were forged in the Labs of The Mechanicus,” one of them protests in confusion.

Jophiel lets out a little chuckle and reminds them about adoption being a thing, and tells them about how he met Lenora, Erriox and the other family of his heart that he found on Ancient Terra.

Jophiel states, “I also want you to meet Auntie Mara and some of our, er my, other gannet harpy cousins. They are all so nice and friendly!”

“Are you sure they won't be concerned about strange, large Astartes-mer coming to their roost without warning?” Claude asks. 

“Don't worry, I sent a message ahead that I'm bringing friends over,” Jophiel tells them.

Then Jophiel continues to chatter about Lenora, Mara, Erriox, and the other people that he's surrounded himself with on Ancient Terra. They follow after him, surprised, but glad that Ancient Terra has helped their sometimes timid and terrified brother-cousin come into himself. Both Claude and Cedric are among the few Primaris brothers to know about his wings.

“Auntie Mara!” He calls out, “Come meet Claude and Cedric!”

She and about a dozen and a half of his gannet harpy aunts, uncles, and cousins come swarming out to greet Cedric and Claude. They are happy that he has friends among the mer-astartes and to meet this pair as well, having heard stories about them from Jophiel. Cedric and Claude almost seem overwhelmed, in a good way, with the noise and easy affection.

“My, what are you boys fed to be so large, strong, and handsome?” One of the gannet harpies asks.

That flusters Claude and Cedric a bit as Jophiel laughs and gives a truthfully vague version of an answer with an easy smile. After they finished introductions and getting to know each other, and a playful hunt or two, Jophiel brings them back to meet Erriox, pausing and telling them that The First Born Space Marine is a Loyalist Iron Warrior. Claude and Cedric look at each other uncertainly at hearing about one of the other Very Important People in Jophiel’s life being an Iron Warrior, but they are willing to meet and give him a chance, since he’s a Loyalist. They also know about the Agreement between the various factions of Astartes. They are still half convinced that it’s complete grox manure and it was going to result in the death tolls of trillions.

“Erriox,” Jophiel trills a little at his not-father figure, “I would like you to meet a couple of my fellow Primaris Marines.”

Erriox pauses what he’s doing to look up at the two other ridiculously tall Scout-lings. “Alright.”

“Claude is a Raven Guard and is on my left,” Jophiel introduces and Gestures at one of his oldest friends, “and on my right is Cedric, he is a Black Templar.”

“It's nice to meet you sir,” the other too-big Scout-lings say in almost perfect unison that Erriox almost didn't find them… almost adorable. 

It was surprisingly nice meeting Erriox, he could be a little gruff at times, but the Iron Warrior was a lot kinder to them and to Jophiel than… a lot of the First Born Space Marines when they first arrived to help their elder brothers. Still, Cedric fusses over Jophiel, the Apothecary-trained Astartes looking him over. He’s pleased, and a little surprised at how well Jophiel is. Granted they had only seen the way their brother- er… cousin, interacted with the gannet harpies and his mother, Lady Lenora, neither of them had seen Jophiel so confident with others before. 

It was a good change, and they are glad that he’s more sure of himself and interacting with others more confidently. They understand why he was so… skittish before. Having such a glaring mutation while as a First Generation Primaris Marine had him flagged for harsher punishments, closer scrutiny and censure. Him being a Psyker (and thus getting the training that all known Primaris Psyker had received during their time with the Mechanicum put further restrictions, rules, and additional punishments and discipline and scrutiny. Among the harpies here in Ancient Terra, Jophiel didn’t need to worry about any of that. Nor did he have to hide his wings anymore. 

Learning that Lady Lenora and Erriox are mates, had Claude and Cedric do the same confused head tilt thing that Jophiel had done, when he learned that such a thing was possible. Lenora hadn’t been able to stop herself from laughing. The two Primaris mer-Astartes, despite looking a lot different from her son and her beloved mate, definitely had some similarities in their reactions to things. They are just as unintentionally adorable and charming as Jophiel was! She’s glad that he’s got mer-astartes friends his age, both of the other fledgling Astartes are very sweet in their own ways.

Claude starts to talk about a couple of his older brother Black Templars that have taken him under their tutelage with almost stars in his eyes about How Cool They Are! One of them would become, in the future-past that is to come, a Champion. Lenora doesn’t know what that means but, the impressed looks and noises from Claude and Jophiel, it likely is an important Astartes thing. 

Even Erriox gives her an equally flummoxed look about what a ‘Champion’ is. He’s heard through the Astartes grapevine, about the Black Templars and their… overzealousness, which made him wary, especially for Lenora’s safety. He was surprised by how sweet and gentle Cedric is though. Claude is a quieter sort, but very kind and protective. He’s a battle-brother, one who hasn’t had any specialized training, but for most mer-Astartes, that’s the way of things for most of their active duty careers. They are both good and dutiful Scout-lings in Erriox’s opinion.

Lenora finds Claude and Cedric both sweet and similarly tragically adorable. Part of Lenora wonders if she just might adopt two more sons? At least Cedric seems to have the support he needs, from the way he talks about his Super Cool Older Brothers. Claude seems to be fine to stand on his own, although she’s watched him occasionally stare at Erriox warily, or almost flinch when Erriox moves a little too fast. It saddens her that these fledglings were likely mistreated before they came to ‘Ancient Terra’ as Erriox and Jophiel call Earth. They both seem to be more sure of themselves and not afraid of their own shadows, then Jophiel had been when she first met her son. She’s glad. She’s heard about some of Jophiel’s closer brother-cousins that he had before they’d been sent to different chapters to serve under. Which Lenora had thought was a shame, part of her wondering why they hadn’t all gone to the same chapter. But seeing how different the three of them looked from each other, and knowing that different chapters had different specialties, or so Erriox has said, it made sense why they weren’t kept together after their initial training.

Jophiel nudges Lenora with his wing, getting her attention. The harpy turns to her son, curious.

“Do you think you can adopt my brothers too?” 

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 13

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fortifying effects of Nia’s pep talk lasted throughout the car ride, and it wasn’t until Lena was actually standing outside Kara’s front door, doughnut box in hand, that reality abruptly reasserted itself.

What was she doing?

It was all very well deciding she could remain detached for this conversation from the neutral territory of her own office, but now she was actually here, mere feet away from the woman who had broken her heart and about to raise a subject that would come closer to picking at that wound than anything had since it had happened, it felt foolhardy in the extreme. What if talking about it, even indirectly, really did trigger something that she would prefer to stay dormant? It was a very real possibility, and Lena didn’t want to be pushed into jumping one way or the other on offering a genuine second chance right now, because she was afraid that if she was she would choose to walk away again, and she wasn’t ready for that.

Not yet.

Not until their work was done and Supergirl was once more flying about National City and making her righteous, hypocritical speeches, hands on hips like she had been practising her power poses in the mirror (She probably had. Kara was such an adorable dork).

No, she wasn’t ready to let the complication back in.

She would slip away quickly, and when she got back to the car she would call Alex to come and talk to her sister after all. No one ever needed to know she had even-

The front door opened, and before Lena could so much as twitch Kara Danvers was standing in front of her, feet bare, hair secured into a messy bun with a paintbrush, small smudge of blue on one cheek, and a surprised smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. How was it fair that she looked so effortlessly cute just when Lena needed to keep a level head?

‘Lena! I heard something out in the hall and thought Mrs Warren’s cat must have got out again, but this is so much better than getting in some sneaky Mr Tibbles belly rubs. Come in, come in! And are those doughnuts??’

Oh well, looked like she was doing this.

Lena let herself be ushered inside, then presented the patisserie box to Kara with the dramatic flourish of a second rate stage magician (not that she was over playing how totally normal and at ease she felt or anything).

‘These, Ms Danvers, are no mere doughnuts. They are in fact in contention for the most elaborate, highly decorated and candy covered doughnuts you will find this side of New York. One of them is the cookie monster. With actual cookies.’

(Well, maybe she was over playing it just a little bit).

‘Ohhhh, you are my favourite. How did you know I needed a cookie monster doughnut in my life today?’

Kara took the box from Lena’s hands and immediately began exploring its contents, pausing to exclaim over the unicorn with the marshmallow horn and a rather fretful looking chocolate porcupine before settling after all on the giant cookie monster, complete with mouth full of cookies as promised.

Lena didn’t answer her right away, at first because she was trying to find the right words to broach the subject, and then because her attention had caught on the easel set up by the window. Kara rarely allowed anyone to see her works-in-progress, and even though it was so clearly unplanned, this unexpected glimpse into what was usually such a closely guarded process felt like an honour.

At a glance the painting seemed to be an unbroken, featureless blue, but as she looked Lena realised there was a subtle variation in the colours – a slightly darker shade on one side that lightened at the centre, with the most delicate hints of apricot and rose feathering in towards the far edge. There was texture there too – faint wisps of white that suggested clouds, and a faded crescent, like the moon after dawn had broken but before it dipped below the horizon. It was beautiful, but it was... different.

Kara tended to paint landscapes – fantasy landscapes, so Lena had always assumed. She had tried asking about them once or twice, but had been met with hedging and awkward subject changes. She had thought that her friend was simply private about her art, or even mildly embarrassed about her fascination with painting made up scenes rather than real ones, and had tried to drop in casual mentions of sci fi books she had read to let her know that her secret brand of nerdiness was fine by her, but Kara still never fully relaxed until the conversation had well and truly moved on.

Reframed with the knowledge she now had, she realised that Kara didn’t paint fantasy landscapes at all. She painted Krypton. Over and over again, she recreated her vanished home, preserving her memories of somewhere she would never see again the only way she could. Only now she had lost even that small connection to her heritage, she was left with nothing but a vague sense that something “up there” was important to her, and it made Lena’s heart ache for her. It felt too familiar, that quiet yearning for something you couldn’t quite place.

She had been so young when her mother died, she almost didn’t remember her first home at all. There was just the odd fragment of disjointed moments, mingled with snatches of sense-memory. The smell of woodsmoke and wet earth intertwined with a sweet, buttery flavour she had never found an exact match for since; a hummed lullaby in a voice that was both bone-deep familiar and too distant to recall how it sounded making words; the warm surety of arms that reached out to catch her as she stumbled and swooped her up into the air, turning her fall into flight before she could hit the ground…

She wanted to ask Kara about the sky painting, to understand exactly what it meant to her (she wanted to understand all of them now she realised they weren’t made up, but of course Kara could no longer tell her about any but this one), but she held back. It wasn’t what she was here for, and now she had resolved to have this conversation, she needed to get on with it right away or she would talk herself out of doing it at all.

She returned her attention to Kara, who had finished her first rapturous bite of doughnut and was now sucking icing from her thumb and looking back at Lena with a quizzical expression.

‘Well actually… Nia sent me. She said you seemed a bit upset after your talk today, and thought maybe you could use a friend.’

‘Oh no, she picked up on that? I thought I was managing to be so cool about it!’

‘She said you didn’t finish your doughnut.’

Kara huffed as indignantly as she could through a chocolate chip cookie.

‘That doesn’t mean anything, I leave things sometimes! I might just not have been in a doughnut sort of mood.’

She didn’t say anything, but Lena’s raised eyebrow in the direction of the semi-demolished cookie monster got the point across. Kara Danvers had never once not been in a doughnut sort of mood, except possibly when she was actively dying. And even then, chances were 50/50 that she just fancied potstickers instead.

‘Well... she didn’t know that. Did she tell you what it was we were talking about?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you already knew that-?’

‘That Nia is Dreamer? Yes, I’ve known for a little while now.’

‘Oh.’

Kara moved over to the couch and slumped down onto it, like the weight of her own feelings was suddenly too heavy for her. It was a pose of abject misery, but she didn’t put down the doughnut, which Lena figured was a good sign.

‘I didn’t realise you guys even knew each other that well. How come she told you and not me? Did I do something to make her think I would react badly?’

‘We don’t, really – through you more than anything else. But it wasn’t like that Kara, I just put the pieces together after seeing both Dreamer and Nia at the DEO while I was working on this project with Alex.’

‘That figures. You’re an actual genius, of course you would have realised right away.’

Lena winced internally. Some genius. She had been best friends with Kara for years, as well as having frequent up-close-and-personal encounters with Supergirl, including but not limited to being carried in her arms with their faces mere inches apart, and yet still somehow hadn’t cottoned onto the fact that they were one and the same person.

What a waste she had made of being carried by Supergirl before their rift. If only she’d known it was Kara she was cuddled up with, she’d have-

But no, she wouldn’t have. Kara never seemed to notice all the times she had flirted outrageously with her throughout their friendship, and Lena would never have jeopardized what they had had for the fleeting excitement of a mid-air make out with a best friend who was in all likelihood entirely heterosexual.

In any case there was no point in dwelling on what was past and would never come round again. This wasn’t about her and Kara. It was about Kara and Nia.

Lena put the doughnut box down on the table in front of Kara and went to sit beside her, not quite touching, but closer than they usually sat these days.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No… Maybe? I told Nia how happy I was for her. And I am, I really truly am, and I’m glad she told me. I guess I just feel a little weird about it. I get that it’s this huge personal thing, but I can’t help wondering why she didn’t feel like she could trust me when all the rest of our friends knew. I know they’re mostly DEO so it’s a bit different, but… I don’t know. I guess it just makes me feel like the outsider. Like I’m not this cool, powerful secret agent so it doesn’t even matter what I know. I thought Nia and I were closer than that.’

Lena should have felt vindicated, smug even. Happy that Kara was now feeling some measure of the pain she’d caused Lena, even if on a much smaller scale. But she didn’t. She just felt sad.

For Kara.

For Nia.

For herself.

For the whole tangled web of truth and lies that they were all now so inextricably ensnared in that Lena could no longer see which thread was supposed to hers. She could just see Kara, and the pain and confusion in her eyes as she struggled with feelings she didn't have the full context to understand.

She found herself stepping almost without realising it into Supergirl’s shoes – giving all the same arguments that she herself had dismissed when Kara had tried to explain why she had kept her own secret for so long. That it wasn’t about trust, it was about safety. That knowing something like this could put both of them in danger, and by hiding it Nia had been trying to prevent people using Kara as a game piece against Dreamer. That Nia had probably been afraid that she had waited too long, and now Kara would hate her for not telling her sooner, and she couldn’t bear to lose her.

The irony of what she was saying and who she was saying it to was not lost on Lena, but somehow, although they were old and tired to her now, telling these things to Kara made her feel the truth of them in a way she never had before.

After all, was she not doing something similar, even now? She had no choice but to keep Kara in the dark about her Kryptonian identity, but that wasn’t the only secret she was keeping. Kara still didn’t know that she had deliberately sabotaged her happiness at Catco, and Lena knew as surely as Supergirl must have that if she revealed this truth it would end the way things were between them. And she didn’t want to lose Kara yet. So she didn’t tell.

She didn’t tell, and it ached and festered inside her like rotten tooth she refused to spit it out, but she would rather keep it close than accept the gap that would be left by letting go. Instead she focused on the present, and on Nia and how much she clearly cared about their friendship, and Kara listened to her in a way that Lena hadn’t been ready to do when she had been the one in her position. Eventually Kara sighed, and allowed herself another bite of doughnut before conceding.

‘I know you’re right and I’m not being fair. I just can’t help feeling so out of the loop. I don’t even really know why – whether it’s because of things changing at Catco or because Alex and Nia and everyone seem to be so busy at the moment, but it’s like something has shifted for me recently. I feel so frustrated and so limited in what I can do. I think if I’m honest… maybe I’m a bit jealous of Nia. I mean yesterday she was like me – just an ordinary woman doing her best to make a difference through her writing in spite of Andrea’s new ‘sparkly media’ vision, and today? Today she’s this awesome kickass superhero who’s out there every night fighting crime and saving the city while I’m making boil in the bag rice and watching NSYNC videos on Youtube for the millionth time. Does that make me a terrible person?’

‘Of course it doesn’t. It just makes you human.’

And you were never meant to be just human.

But she couldn’t explain, so she offered comfort in the only way she could think of. She reached out across the unacknowledged barrier of physical space that they had so carefully maintained over the last several weeks, and pulled Kara in very gently against her side. After a moment of stiff surprise Kara relaxed into the embrace, allowing her head to find a resting place in the crook of Lena’s shoulder.

Lena waited for the pain and anger to rise up in her at the breach of this protective buffer, for her to have to fight the urge to push Kara away again and leave the apartment. But it never came. Her arm settled comfortably around Kara’s shoulders, and it was as though a piece of her that had been missing for months slotted back into place. With a pang, Lena realised that no one had really touched her since before Lex had revealed Supergirl’s identity. Not properly. Not like this. It simultaneously soothed and inflamed her need for physical contact, and it was all she could do not to pull Kara closer still.

She closed her eyes and let her cheek rest against the top of Kara’s head. She just needed a minute. Just a minute for this to be enough, and then she would turn her focus back to where it was meant to be. Project Atlantis. Restoring Supergirl and ending this brief, beautiful bubble of time when she could be Kara’s best friend again without all the history and hurt.

Just one more minute...

‘Thank you Lena, I’m so glad I have you to talk to about this stuff. And I guess now I can understand better where you were coming from about our thing.’

Lena tensed immediately.

Had Kara just remembered the real reason for their fight? Could this indirect trigger really have been enough to bring her own memories along with it, and without any sign of a neurological episode? Was all of this just… over?

She could barely get the words out, but she had to make sure.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sorry, of course I know it wasn’t the same as finding out someone is secretly a superhero, but I guess it just gives me some perspective, being the one on the other side of a secret. It is not the greatest feeling in the world, and I know it must have been worse for you because I was supposed to be your best friend, and I still lied to you for such a long time.’

The simultaneous rush of relief and crashing disappointment was dizzying. Kara didn’t remember. Whatever she was talking about, it wasn’t her Supergirl secret.

Then what was it?

The part of Lena that desperately wanted to find out Kara’s version of their fight warred with the part of her that just as desperately wanted to leave it alone so they could go on as they were. She should try and find out, of course. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than the truth, and it wasn’t real in any case… but even if she wanted to, that was easier said than done. They had had a huge fight about it and almost parted ways for good, it was hardly as though she could claim the details of what it had been about had just slipped her mind for a moment. Especially when Kara had tried to talk about it before, and Lena had been the one to shut the conversation down. Besides, hadn’t she been right to do so? Things between them had been great since then, and who knew what would have happened if they had opened the can of worms that was their history? They might not have stayed close enough for Kara to keep co operating with her treatment. And alright so maybe she didn’t need to be cajoled into the Q-Wave sessions anymore, but if anything that was all the more reason to keep Kara on side, just in case she needed to ask her to do something else later on.

The arguments for each side went round and round in Lena’s head, neither one gaining enough ground to decide on a course of action, until at last Kara pulled away and looked at her with a worried frown, apparently sensing the change in her mood.

‘Are you alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up after what you said last time. Please don’t be mad at me again.’

She couldn’t ask. Not now.

‘I won’t. I’m not. I’m just – I’m glad we found our way through that. I really thought our friendship was over, and I was just thinking how glad I am that I was wrong.’

Kara relaxed, though she didn’t resume the cut short cuddle.

‘Me too.’

Trying not to mind the loss of Kara’s warm weight against her side, Lena stretched as casually as she could, and leaned forwards to choose a doughnut of her own.

‘Shall we watch a movie? Your pick.’

‘Oh yes, a movie night would be the best! Maybe we could invite Nia as well? I feel so bad about how I reacted earlier and I want to make it up to her and let her know that I really really do support her as Dreamer.’

‘I think that’s a great idea. Why don’t you give her a call, and I’ll make a quick supply run. Wine, chocolate, and popcorn?’

‘Sounds perfect.’

[bridgertons-world]

A/N: Okay guys this is my very first Bridgerton fanfic or imagine. I hope you like it. A lot of fluff yes and a lot of the scenes are from the show and that is because I personally related to those parts. Thank you😘

(Open to imagine or fanfic requests for all Bridgerton Brothers)

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton and Me.

_______________________________

She was done. It was over for her. She didn't want anything to do with him anymore. She said all she could and all she had in her heart, but nothing changed. It was scary to believe that it was because he felt absolutely nothing for her. A scary thought indeed. But, nonetheless, she had decided to leave all of that behind her. To put all of these thoughts aside and to end this once and for all. 

She knew that this was all one-sided. She knew that for him it wouldn't matter, let alone even acknowledge the fact that he hurt her or that she's letting go and not coming back. All that mattered was that she was doing this for herself. 

She wasn't sure of the epiphany. Yet, onwards she went.

______________________________

As Aaya made her way across the street to Eloise's home, Bridgerton Manor, she composed herself, for she knew that she would have to at least make small talk with Colin. She knocked on the door, and the butler opened it. As she made her way to the garden, she realized that there was a new friend. Someone she didn't know but looked rather familiar. Suddenly, she found Hyacinth and Eloise running towards her. 

"Aaya! You're finally here!" Eloise beemed with excitement. 

You smiled and laughed at their reaction: "Yes. I am here...in the flesh," you retorted, making a quick glance towards Colin. He stood by the Bridgerton boys, Kate, and the new friend she knew nothing about. She took the chance and looked at the two girls. "So...who is this young man standing by Kate and Anthony?" Aaya asked. 

Hyacinth smirked as she looked at him, then back at you. "Why are you asking my lady?" 

Aaya laughed. "Aren't you a bit too young to make jokes like these?" 

"He's Kate's cousin," Eloise laughed. "He's visiting from London. Wait, let's introduce you two!" She said this as she ran to get him. 

Aaya was left standing alone when she heard a clearing of the throat. She turned to see Colin, of course. 

"Hello Colin," Aaya said sternly. 

Colin smiled. "If my being here is in any way making you uncomfortable, I shall leave." 

Aaya rolled her eyes. "As if I'd ever tell you to leave a gathering at your home...how low do you think I am, Mr. Bridgerton?" She said it with a hiccup in her voice. 

Colin's reaction changed from playful to serious: "Aaya, I never meant it in that way; I was merely just joking around." He was cut off by Eloise. 

"Aaya! This is Abraham, Kate's cousin; Abraham, this is Aaya Montgomery," she introduced. 

Aaya smiled and courtesied. Abraham smiled as he bowed. "It's very nice to make your account, Ms. Montgomery. I've certainly heard so much about you from the girls, especially Kate. She's quite fond of you." 

You side-eyed Colin and decided to act as if nothing was wrong. You giggled lightly and said, "Well, I hope all good things were said about me. I am also very fond of Kate. She's really become like a sister to me." 

Time passed by as everyone was having tea and sandwiches when Kate clapped her hands and said, "Alright! Let's start our cricket game, everyone!" 

You laughed and looked up at Abraham. "Well, I guess I'll sit this one out." 

"What? Why?!" He asked, looking as bumbed as ever. 

She smiled and was interrupted by the dashing laughs and voices of Anthony and Benedict: "Oh, how we've tried to get little Ms. Montgomery here to play or to teach her at least, but in her words, I don't see the point in it; really, I'd rather read or paint," both of them finishing the remark. 

As Aaya was about to retort back, she was interrupted yet again by another dashing voice, which she knew very well: "Oh, you could ask me about that. I've been after her since we were mere children. Right yaya?" 

Abraham looked at you and laughed. "Is it so much the game, or what is it exactly?" 

Hearing the nickname Colin has given you since you were children just annoyed you so much. You decided that annoying him as well would be the right course of action. It was childish, yes, but it was the only way she could fire back at the moment. She giggled lightly at Abraham as she said, "You know what? I think I'd love to learn how to play after all. Will you teach me, Abe?"

Abraham smiled at the comfort Aaya had given him. "Yes, of course, my lady," he said as he bowed and extended an arm for her to take to lead her to the field. 

Benedict went up to Colin. "It seems like Aaya might get a suiter this season," he said as he beemed at Colin with happiness. 

Aaya and all the Montgomerys were like family to the Bridgertons. So for Benedict to be happy that Aaya might get a good match this season was indeed very warranted. 

Colin smiled reluctantly and just nodded. He looked at Aaya as Abraham towered over her, teaching her how to use the racket. He started to clench his jaws together. Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton smiled at each other as they knew that little Colin Bridgerton was a bit jealous. 

As the day went on, all Colin did was watch Abraham and Aaya get along swiftly. He didn't like it, though. Not one bit. He felt a little nudge on his shoulder and heard Kate giggle. "He is my cousin...but I can tell when someone is jealous," she teased. 

Colin furrowed his eye brows. "Kate I assure you, I am not jealous... and certainly not from somebody she has just met. No offense," he declared. 

Kate laughed. "No offense has been taken, but I do reprimand you for your lies," she smirked. "Colin, tell her how you feel. Why is it so hard? We all long to marry our best friends, for God's sake, man! Go and tell her...before you attend the wedding and not as the groom," she said, getting up to break a fight between Newtown and Anthony. 

The hours passed, and all Colin could do was think about the words Kate spoke to him. It was utterly horrifying to see how accurate she was. 

Before he understood or could comprehend what he was doing, he got up and marched up to Aaya and Abraham. He heard them laugh and giggle, and that killed him. 

"May I interrupt? This'll just take a moment." He demanded as he looked straight at Aaya.

Aaya was very confused. She looked at Colin, then at Abraham. Abraham bowed to both and replied, "Of course. It seems like you have matters to attend to," he said as he kissed Aaya's hand. 

Aaya smiled and courtesied. She looked up at Colin, still very confused. "Yes?" 

Colin gulped and looked at Aaya with apologetic eyes, yet he didn't know what to say except, "Aaya, can we talk inside?" 

"Inside? Where? Colin we..."

She was cut off by Colin pulling her into the house and into his room. His bedchambers. 

"Colin, no, I can't be here!" Aaya protested in hush tones, so nobody could be here. 

Colin looked very worried as he said, "If you're scared to be with me behind closed doors unchaperoned..." 

Aaya cut him off. "I'm never scared when you are with me, Colin... I'm just scared that your family will eventually find out that I'm here unchaperoned."

"I understand, but my mama is lost in conversation with your mama and Lady Danbury... Eloise, Benedict, Anthony, Kate, Hyacinth, and Gregory are all caught up with this Abraham, for God knows what reason...and..."

"He is a rather charming fellow. Is he not?" Aaya teased Colin, as she knew quite well what he looked like if he were to be jealous. 

"Not," Colin said, neglecting what she said in one finite word. 

"Oh, and why's that?" Aaya asked as she moved around the room, acting as if she were examining the things on his nightstand. 

"I don't know... but he is very full of it and trying too hard to impress in my opinion...but..but you were charming as always... captivating everyone and everybody with your laughs and insights, and... also you let him teach you cricket!" Colin's voice rose at that end phrase. 

Aaya stopped and turned around. She looked at Colin as she walked up to him and said, "I was trying to annoy you, if I'm being honest." She said that and looked up at him. She was mere inches away from him. 

Her big hazel brown eyes were the death of him. "And I was quite so...still am Aaya," he said as he took ahold of her hands. He lightly caressed her cheeks and brushed away a loose strand of hair. 

Aaya was very confused. She pulled her hands away, stepping back. She started pacing the floor like there was no tomorrow. 

"Yaya," he started. 

"No! You do not get to call me that!" She yelled out as she fell down on his bed as tears filled her eyes. "Not after I confessed everything to you—every little detail of my love to you—and....you did nothing!" She started to take deep breaths. Some would say she was hyperventilating from the panic. Nonetheless, she continued, "I'm not saying that you should force yourself to feel the same way... but at least have the common courtesy to understand that I'm torn from the deep ends of my heart, Colin!" 

Colin couldn't hear this any longer. He leaned down on his knees and situated himself in front of her with the right amount of closeness. He took a hold of her hands again. "Aaya, I have feelings for you."

Aaya stopped crying as she still took in deep breaths. "What?" was all that she could muster. 

"I'm in love with you, Aaya Montgomery," Colin declared. He moved closer. Now his posture was somewhat between her knees. 

"Colin, do not say words you do not mean," Aaya said as she tried to re-establish her seating arrangement. 

Colin held her still and looked at her. Into her brown hazel eyes, which looked as beautiful as ever. He leaned in and kissed her forehead ever so subtly. All Aaya could do now was close her eyes in disbelief. Whatever was happening, she wanted it. 

Colin smiled at the sigh that left Aaya's mouth, and then he left a small kiss on both her cheeks. His hands started to rise up to her waist as he pulled her closer. He started to message her hips, and Aaya's breath hutched. Colin finally linked his lips with hers ever so delicately as he guided them both to lie down on the bed as they did so. 

Aaya smiled into the kiss, as she couldn't believe that she was kissing Colin Bridgerton. The man she had loved ever since she was a little girl. But now he certainly wasn't treating her like a little girl. She giggled at the thought. 

Colin pulled away slightly and looked at her with a smirk. "And what's making you giggle at this very moment, Ms. Montgomery?" 

She caressed his jaw line and neck as she bit her lip. "Nothing...a thought of no decorum," she replied with another giggle. 

Colin laughed and gave Aaya a teasing kiss. He bit the lip. He saw her bite. "Biting your lip will be the death of me, yaya. But I do want to know that thought, my lady." He trailed off as he started to tickle Aaya. 

Aaya couldn't hold back her laughs and yelps. "Colin! Stop, no wait...Colin! Stop!" She couldn't take her breath as the both of them laughed in unity. 

Suddenly, they heard a knock on the door. Colin was stuck in a daze, and Aaya retreated ever so quickly. 

"Colin, are you in here? We can't seem to find Aaya. Is she with you?" Asked Eloise. 

Colin was about to chuckle when Aaya stuffled a giggle and hit his upper arm playfully. "Um, no, I haven't seen her... I just came here to tend to some work I had to do." 

A snuffled snort could be heard from behind the door. Did Eloise know what was happening? "Okay, brother, information I didn't have to know, by the way," she said and left, going back to the garden. 

Colin laughed lightly and looked at Aaya, who was still in his arms. "You know, I could stay like this forever." He said this as he kissed her lightly. 

Aaya smiled shyly and burried her face into his chest. "I too could stay like this forever... I'll always feel safe with you, Colin." 

Colin tightened the hug and then pulled back, chuckling, "Do you think Eloise knew what was happening?" He queried with a smirk. 

"Mr. Bridgerton, if you are trying to get me worried, well, I'll let you know that you are succeeding," Aaya said in a shaky tone as she started to get off the bed and collect herself. 

Colin laughed and rushed to the door of his chambers. "Yaya, wait," he chanted, placing his hands on both her shoulders. "Let's go down to the garden together." He said it in a suggestive tone.

Aaya was baffled by the idea. She gulped and breathed before replying, "Excuse me? You've already told Eloise you didn't know where I was." She trailed off, "And what will we go down together as? Friends? Friends that were together in bed chambers?" 

Colin was already leaning down on his knees as he looked up at her. Aaya was very confused. "What...what is this, Colin?"

"Will you marry Aaya Montgomery?" Colin uttered the words Aaya had longed to hear for so long. 

Aaya's pride got the best of her as she said, "Colin, are you sure? Is this what you want?" 

Colin smiled as he got up. He hugged Aaya as he said, "This is exactly what I long for, Ms. Montgomery." 

[omgeveryusernameistakenicanteven]

Compromise Pt. 2

The only sound in the office is the soft scratching of Ms. Polter’s quill on parchment as she grades essays. Outside her window the grounds have long since fallen into darkness. Although she’s not particularly surprised Severus didn’t show–he is a proud man, after all–she is disappointed. I’ll go for a walk, she decides, gazing out the window, after my grading is done. Then, with a great sigh, she returns to work. Or she would have, if not for a single, quiet knock on her office door.

Knowing it could only be one man she smiles and straightens her robes, “Come in.” The handle turns and the door swings open to reveal just who she’d been hoping to see, “Ah, Severus. You look beautiful.” She wonders what he’d done to his hair. It looks soft, hanging in gentle waves and shining like silk. He’s also wearing different robes, the darkest shade of blue. A beautiful contrast to his pale skin, which is painted with a blush from her compliment.

“Thank you,” his voice is quiet. That’s not really surprising, she’s sure he’s nervous.

“So, what are you here for?” This catches him off guard. At first panic flashes through his mind, he was sure she’d invited him here. Next he felt embarrassed, he’d spent so long getting ready for her only to find he’d been mistaken. She didn’t want him at all. Maybe she’d taken a second look at him and decided he looks just as disgusting as everyone else says. His cheeks start to burn and he whips around to leave, “You didn’t answer my question, Severus.”

“You..you invited me here.”

“I did.” She conjures a chair for him and clears her desk. “Sit, and try to relax, Severus. I’m only asking what you’re here for. What do you want to come of your visit?”

“I want you to do what you did last time.”

“And only that?” 

The man looks like he wants to melt into the chair beneath him. “I thought,” he pauses, fiddling with his robes and looking anywhere but her eyes, “I thought we would have..”

“Sex?” She raises a brow. For how composed Severus usually is he looks horribly embarrassed to hear her say it and even more embarrassed when he nods. Ms. Polter hm-ed then stood, “I’m sure I can arrange that. Stand, Severus, and follow me.”

Ms. Polter leads the way into her connected bedroom then to a set of armchairs near the fire. With an easy flick of her hand she summons two crystal glasses and pours a glass of fire whiskey for each of them. Severus takes his gratefully, more than eager to ease his nerves. The uncomfortable conversation isn’t done yet it seems when she asks, “Did you dress up for me? I haven’t seen those robes before.”

Severus nods, taking a look around the room to distract himself. Her quarters are much larger than his, and indeed much larger than they would’ve been without magic. The living area was decorated with heavy wooden furniture and rich, dark colors. Severus has little experience with luxury but thinks this room must be worth more than he’s made in his teaching career.

A laugh brings him back from his wonderings, “Ah, I know why you came now. You just wanted to admire my interior design.”

His cheeks light up again with a blush and he apologizes quickly. For all his effort he can’t stop fidgeting in his chair. It’s not like this is worse than a meeting with the dark lord, so why is he unable to compose himself?

“Severus?” The man in question  jolts out of his thoughts and looks up at her, “I was just asking where you’d like to start. Do you want to stay here or move to the bed?”

“Here.” He sets his glass down on the drink table and rearranges himself purposefully in his chair. Further than that he seems completely lost and he looks to the woman beside him for guidance.

She smiles and sets his glass with his, then stands for a moment to shed her outer robe and settle herself on his lap. His eyes go wide. He raises his hands once, twice. He’s rescued from this purgatory when Cassia guides his hands to rest at her hips. Poor Severus looks like he might keel over there and then. On top of that there’s already a very noticeable erection pressing into her.

“I thought you were going to do it like before?” It’s cute, she thinks, how frantically he speaks.

Cassia taps the top of the leather wingback, “I can hardly do that in a chair like this, Severus.” When he pouts, yes pouts, she laughs and adds, “Everything in its own time. Besides, I think you’ll like this.”

Without further ado she leans down to kiss him. Gently at first, because he seems like he’s hardly breathing. She picks up the pace when he defrosts and reciprocates. Not wanting to overwhelm him she pulls back after only a couple heated seconds. Severus keeps his eyes closed and breathes deeply as if to calm himself. Cassia leans back down to kiss his nose, then his jaw. When she kisses him on the underside of his jaw she can feel his hammering pulse. As if to prove it to Severus she nips the pulsepoint before moving on. When she sucks gently under his ear he bucks his hips up into her.

Cassia pulls him up with her when she stands. She lets out an amused huff when Severus stays stooped down to kiss her even while she’s undressing him. With the buttons undone she pushes the cloak from his shoulders, pleasantly surprised that he’s decided not to wear a shirt underneath. Her lips leave his and instead return to his neck. She kisses him there softly before moving lower.

Severus moans when she moves her attention to his nipples. A wildfire of a blush spreads across his cheeks and down his chest and she only laughs when she looks up to see him staring back down at her wide-eyed. Deciding to have mercy on him she continues down until she's on her knees. She pauses there for a couple moments, holding her hands on his hips and massaging some while letting Severus calm down. When she’s had enough waiting she undoes his belt and waits for him to shift his stance so she can pull his trousers down. While doing that she helps him kick off his shoes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. After he’s undressed she pushes him gently so he’s sitting in the armchair again.

Severus picks at the armrest of the chair and shuffles slightly in his seat. It’s hard for him to ignore the memories creeping to the forefront of his mind. The last time anyone had seen him in such a state of undress was back when he was a student. His breath seems to leave him. Again he tries to push those particular memories from his mind, again he’s unsuccessful.

What is successful in refocusing him is a sharp pain on his inner thigh, to which he gasps and jolts in place. Cassia kisses over the spot she’d just nipped him, “Alright, Severus?” Severus, not Snivellus. He isn’t back there. There are no feelings of hate or shame or powerlessness. Most importantly he wanted this and she wanted him too. It’d almost be unbelievable if she wasn’t kneeling between his thighs looking up at him expectantly. Oh! Right, with that series of thoughts over Severus swallows his nerves and nods. He’s alright.

Just a second later he’s left breathless again, by both the dazzling smile his assistant shoots at him and the feel of her lips pressing a featherlight kiss to the waistband of his boxers. Without permission his hips buck up again and he presses his eyes shut. Another kiss to his waistband and her fingers come up to tease him. One hand caressing his thighs and what parts of his torso she can reach and the other dipping just beneath the elastic of his boxers, teasing their removal. “Oh, Merlin, please! Just do it already!”

“Odd name for your lover, Severus.” Cassia snickers at her own joke, but hears his plea and gently pulls the boxers down, with the help of him lifting his hips. Unconsciously her tongue flicks up to run along the edge of her upper teeth when he’s revealed to her. Despite very much wanting to suck him then and there Cassia decides she hasn’t had enough of teasing him yet.

Thinking of what to do next she glances up to Severus, who’s watching with rapt attention and still gripping the armrests. While her mind wanders she ghosts her nails over the tops and insides of his thighs, enjoying his sweet whine. Next her hand wanders up to his navel and down the soft happy trail there. Oh a whim she stretches out her other hand, and traces along the crease of his hips on either side, starting at his sharp hip bones and following them down. Almost immediately Severus makes a high-pitched choking sound, his dick giving a fat twitch towards his stomach and his whole body lurching as his back arches. Then he curls forward, his head resting on a smirking Cassia’s shoulder.

“Sensitive there Severus?” She says in faux curiosity, before doing it again to much the same result.

“I didn’t—hah—think I was,” Severus speaks into her shoulder, breathing hard to compose himself. A task made all the more difficult by his lover’s hands restarting their exploration. This time one hand dipped between his legs and drew her nails from that sensitive bit below his balls up to them, drawing a low keen from him. For a while she seems content with this, fondling and kissing at his neck and listening to his beautiful sounds that he tried very hard to contain.

Though Cassia could kneel here forever, she figures it might be best to go easy on him. Rather than indulge herself she turns to press a kiss to Severus neck again, just below his ear, and says in a low voice, “Want my mouth now, Sev?”

Despite the poor angle and movement from his frantic nods Cassia sees Severus glow an even brighter red as his blush redoubles. Not wanting to torture the poor man any longer she pushes him to sit back in the arm chair. After he’s seated comfortably she presses a kiss to one knee, then the other, slowly bringing herself higher on her knees as she brings her trail of kisses to the crux of his thighs. With one last look up at Severus, who’s abandoned his attempts to strangle the armchair, she leans up to press a kiss to his weeping head then take it in her mouth and suck lightly. Immediately Severus lets out another choking sound and bucks harshly. A sputtering Cassia withdraws and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Shit, shit, sorry.” Severus reaches for her, then jerks his hands back again. He reaches for her again. Back in hand limbo.

Cassia just laughs and says, “Trying to kill me already? I thought we were getting along, Sev.”  She rubs his thighs a bit, waiting for him to calm down, then continues “I should’ve expected you’d be a little jumpy. Want to keep going?”

“I don’t think I’ll last long. If you want to…” Severus trails off, “well, if you want to do that you should probably stop.”

“I’m asking what you want, Severus. Everything else can come later. Do you want me to keep going?” She palms his erection again and presses a kiss to his knee while she waits for his approval. As soon as Severus gives her another mortified nod she goes back to business. Pressing kisses up his thigh again to work her way back to his dick.

Severus tries to choke down a moan, and is only half successful. He thinks the resulting sound must be worse, but can’t bring himself to care. Can’t believe I ever wanted her to leave me alone. The witch is back to sucking him, and he is back in hand limbo. Again. Cassia also notices this, and decides to do something about it. She grabs his hands and places them on her head and in her hair. With a gentle squeeze she lets him go and looks up at him. This has to be a dream, he thinks, there’s no way.

Ever so softly he pushes down on her, and she follows, allowing his cock to push further into her mouth. When he pulls his hands back she pulls back with him. Severus can hardly believe this. Afraid she might disappear in a puff of smoke if he did something that might wake him from a dream. He refuses to go to fast. Still he keeps up his guidance, moaning fully when she pushes down a bit further. Merlin, he can feel her nose pressed against him.

“I’m–oh fuck,” Severus cuts himself off, still fucking into her mouth but much sloppier, “I’m gonna–”

He doesn’t finish his sentence before Cassia takes him balls deep again. This time she smiles, and hums around him. It’s all the poor man can do to hold her hair from her face, otherwise completely lax. He’s twitching wildly in her. When she taps on his thigh to get his attention it looks like he can hardly lift his own head. Somehow, he manages, and looks blearily into her eyes, stunned into silence by the sight of her. Hair perfectly ruffled and eyes crinkled at the edges, like nothing could bring her more joy than this. Like she didn’t view him as a wretched professor or a useful tool in war or some potion master or duelist that may prove handy. Like she viewed him as Severus and that was perfect for her. Maybe he’s finally lost it, he mused.

Only he can’t dwell long on this thought, because his orgasm rips through him. Someone is screaming, it might be him, and all he can feel is silky soft hair and white hot pleasure. When he becomes aware of himself again he can feel Cassia’s hair under his limp hand, and her mouth on him still. Now that it’s over all that liking him for him and caring about him stuff seems very far. The leather makes a quiet peeling sound against his skin as he shifts uncomfortably in the armchair again, all too conscious of his body and lack of clothes.

Unwilling to allow him to stew for long Cassia resettles herself in his lap. She cradles his face gently and kisses him, over and over again, until his breathing returns to regular and his face unscrews.

“Severus?” At her word his eyes open again, but he doesn’t trust himself to speak so for now he just looks. This is enough for her it seems because she flashes that dazzling smile again and presses a kiss to his nose. “Let’s get to bed, mkay?”

Just as he’s about to nod he remembers, “But you didn’t..I didn’t do anything for you?”

“Everything in its own time, Sev.”

Part 1 to this!

[heehoighofoxijin]

Nose Blind

The following is a Br<3ken Colors fic I wrote based on an ask I sent that got answered. I've been itching to write it and I haven't until today. I also decided to do some art in MS Paint to go with it...because why not! So if you're interested...keep reading!

Metal pipe collided with my skull last night, and it knocked the whole world out from under my nose. It didn’t matter that you were defending yourself. Had you hit me anywhere else, I would’ve exercised some semblance of mercy. At least then I still would’ve been able to give you the liberty of a head-start before the chase. But darling, you’ve knocked my senses clean from under me—an unforgivable crime.

I was only trying to connect with you, honey. The loneliness that came over me that when the sun sank below the horizon was unbearable, and to expect me to endure that torture was the very same as the expectations I hold to you tonight. I would have preferred it if you kindly told me to leave. Now that you’ve destroyed everything I had to connect with the world, I feel it’s only right to return the favor.

Don’t cry now, sweetheart, because I’ve only just begun. This meadow is beautiful. If only I could smell it. You have that luxury, but you won’t for long. Drink it all in while you still can. The way the wind pushes the scent of the wildflowers towards your nose, how their incredible colors dance in the field, and how the trees rustle in the distance. Boy are you going to miss it all when all you can hear are your own screams.

The regret on your face won't save you now, my love. What’s done is done. If it’s any consolation, I raise my knife as a toast to your bravery. The goal may not have been to shatter my world into a million pieces, but your success in that department will not go unnoticed! I must admit to the courage and strength it takes to deal that much damage to my brain. You really sent me for a loop. For a moment I didn’t even process what had happened.

Was it really so hard to settle things peacefully with me, dear? Did you not hesitate to pick up the pipe when you saw me in your room? Where did you even get that thing anyway? And why? At what point did you stop loving me? What do you mean you never loved me? HA! That’s the worst lie you’ve ever told. If you didn’t love me, why were you so gentle with me? My nose never failed me until recently. I smelled no evil on you.

Now lift your head to the sky. Witness the shapes the stars make above you. Oh, how sweet it would have been to enjoy the scenery with you over a lovely picnic like I’d planned. Had you not made your mistake, darling, things could have been different. Open wide, now. I need to ensure you keep my name out of your dirty little mouth. I’ll strip you of your tongue so swiftly you won’t even have the chance to taste your own blood. Never loved me. How could you say such a thing?! Well, now you won’t be able to say anything. I hope you’re happy with yourself.

Ah, your eyes look at me with such judgment. But can you really blame me for this? You were the one who took it all away from me. All the color I saw in the world is nothing without the scent. Everything I once loved is blurry now without the one thing attaching me to them. Roses don’t even meet my eye anymore. All I see is red petals and thorns, tainted by blood from the mouth of the thief who stole my world from me. I laid pieces of my heart out for you! But you passed them up in favor of setting this field ablaze.

I bet you smell it now, don’t you? The gasoline. Here, let me give you a good whiff. You may as well be the one to check and make sure this is real. What a lovely, horrified face! I’ll take that as a good sign. I wonder if you’ll keep it up when I pour in down your nose.

You’re going to make a great ball of flame, you know. I bet your corpse will smell so horrid it’ll reach all the way to the heart of the city! And we’re pretty far out. It might take a day or two, but I’m sure somebody will find you. Maybe they’ll even feel bad. Personally, I won’t be able to find this place again. Without my sense of smell… Where did I put that matchbox?

There we go. What a flame! We could’ve danced this passionately, you know. We would have been perfect together if only you’d have listened to me when I tried to reason with you. If only you hadn’t picked up the pipe. If only you hadn’t tried to bash my head in. I have to say at least you tried to kill me. Unfortunately for you, your failed attempt led to your demise instead. Would it not have been easier for you to just love me back? Well, it doesn't matter anymore. Here, have some flowers from the field… Take them all, since you’re so fucking greedy.

Oh, hey DG. Steak? Sure. Don’t see why not. There’s a nice fire going here so you can cook yours. I'll try to at least enjoy the texture.

[dee-dee-monster]

Then Out of the Aether - (Chapter 4)

Summary: Eddie does some talking, does art, and does a favor. He isn’t sure he does all of it well, but he does it. Your little relationship progresses nicely. 

Warnings: nada. 

A/N: Multi-chapter slow burn. Henderson!Reader.

< Click here to find previous chapters > 

___________________________________________

Eddie is maybe feeling a little like an asshole. 

This one time, Uncle Wayne had told him he shouldn’t feel bad that his fallback was defensiveness, that he’d had a tumultuous beginning and it wasn’t his fault that he’d learned what he had to learn. 

Maybe that’s all well and true – it probably is –  but Eddie likes to think he’s evolved. Takes pride in some of the shit he’s grown out of.  So when he sees you outside when you should both be at lunch…he decides this is it. He’s going to stop dodging you. He going to apologize or clear the air or whatever-the-fuck. Doesn’t matter what he should call it; he’s going to take care of it. 

First, though, he’s going to find out what you’re doing. 

Because this isn’t the front lawn where you like to steal away and read or work on an art project. This is out back. Past the football stadium and practice field, out towards the woods. 

Eddie isn’t following you like a creep — he’d already been coming out here. 

He doesn’t have any buyers lined up this afternoon, but every now and then someone will come out here hoping to catch him and purchase a little something-something. It’s worth it to pop out here on occasion to check for customers. 

In any case, he’s pretty sure you’re not out here hoping for weed. 

Which begs the question…

“Whattcha doing?” he calls once he’s nearly caught up to you. 

When you jump, he realizes he could’ve made a little more commotion about his approach. Too late. You twist, wide eyed, though your shoulders slump as soon as you see him. 

“Jeeze…” 

“Sorry,” he chuckles. 

Now Eddie can see you have a camera around your neck. Nothing fancy like the yearbook students get to use, but some older polaroid thing. 

Are you also into photography? 

What don’t you dabble in? 

“Hey…” 

Your eyes dart over him. A little curious, maybe, and definitely skeptical. Eddie feels a little tug in his chest on that front.

“Hey…got a photoshoot scheduled?” he asks, nodding at the camera. 

You lift the thing and consider it, head tilting back and forth. 

“Not really…but kind of, I guess,” you glance up to him and back down. “Working on an art project.” 

“Didn’t know photography was on the lesson plan…” 

But, to be fair, he’d been removed from art class his sophomore year for making a pottery project that was allegedly too phallic. (That was before Ms Ghee, though – she seems cool. Maybe he could’ve gotten away with it in her class…) 

“It’s not, really,” you explain, seeming to liven up more. “I’ve taken Art before so Ms Ghee has to give me extra assignments to kind of make it more like…Advanced Art. Or Art II. I don’t know; she doesn’t really give it a name…”

“Cool…” 

He wouldn’t want to do extra work in any class, but it’s clear you don’t consider this a burden. 

Mostly Eddie just wants to keep you talking.  He’s not sure if you’re opening up because he’s not acting shifty and so you’re comfortable… or if you just like talking about Art. He figures either option is nice.

“Mmhmm. She has me taking pictures I can use as references when I’m making something…” 

“So,” Eddie looks around. “You’re going to be painting a picture of the woods?” 

It’s no Iron Maiden cover, but he’s sure it’ll turn out nice. 

“No…or maybe? It’s just references for realism, not anything specific. Here…” 

You have a small camera bag slung over your shoulder and you reach into a pocket for some pictures. You fan them out in your fingers, and Eddie takes the invitation to come closer. They're random things. A sunset…or maybe sunrise? Fluffy clouds. A road. Some trees. 

“They’re….like a reminder of what things really look like. See, clouds aren’t just white, right? Here in the morning…they’re like little smudges of blue and purple. Then even during the day,” you point to a different photo, “their color depends on where the light hits.”

You’re…not wrong. Eddie hasn’t given clouds much thoughts since deciding he didn’t care to tell a cumulous from a stratus, but he sees what you’re saying. There’s a lot to look at when you think of a cloud that way – maybe Ms Ghee should teach Physical Science. 

“And these?” he waves his finger in a circle so you’ll continue. 

You glance up at him, unsure. Eddie feels a bit of a pang again, but he realizes this look might not be because of him specifically. This is how you get about your art stuff, sometimes – like you’re waiting on a joke. He gets the impression most people aren’t interested. 

“I wanna see,” he nods. 

The last little narrowing of your eyes might be for him, specifically. 

But you look back down and continue. The next is a picture of leaves; it looked like you’d gotten all up in a tree branch’s business to get a photo full of the things. 

“This is…I guess a way to think about layers,” you flip to the next one which is a more dead-looking tree. “This one gives a good idea of the actual shape of a tree…” 

You continue to shuffle through a few more. Some old shed from who-knows-where that’s been faded and worn by whether. A photo of a long, straight road to exemplify perspective. A picture of your hair. 

You tell him you’re out here now to take advantage of the fall foliage for your collection because the colors bleed naturally from one to another. 

Eddie doesn’t care much about these things, but he likes the way you talk about them. 

He likes the way you smile. 

But he doesn’t say so. Instead, he offers to let you take a picture of his hair. 

“What?” 

“...you need a variety of shit, right?” he preens and fluffs up his locks a bit. “I have fabulous hair. Everyone says so…” 

Lie. 

At least around here, if he gets a comment on his hair it’s to call it wild. Or too much. “Untamed” is maybe one of the nicer descriptors. Uncle Wayne had used to give him a little shit about it, too, when he first started to grow it out. Wayne had stopped when he caught on how it had made him self conscious, but he still ruffles Eddie’s hair any time he’s not paying attention. 

Anyway. It’s probably picture-worthy. Different.

“...yeah?” you get your hands on either side of the camera to lift up. 

Eddie had been half-joking, but he nods when he sees you’re willing to.

“M’kay…” 

You take your time about it. Walk around him and even nudge him a couple times to figure out how you wanted the light to hit his hair. 

“Dunno why I’m so fussy…this thing doesn’t take the best pictures…” 

Eddie shrugs. 

“Do your art thing, Art Girl…” 

You snort softly. A second later there’s a click and a whir as the camera works on spitting out a photo. 

“Eddie Munson the Model…” 

Now it’s his turn to snort. 

“I figure that’s how I’ll make my first million, yeah…” 

You don’t laugh along with him, which makes his insides writhe a little. He shouldn’t want that to mean any particular thing, so he scrambles for a way to distract himself. 

“My turn?” he reaches for the camera you’re holding in one hand, new photo in the other hand. 

“...okay,” you nod after a moment and duck out from under the neck strap. 

He blinks, surprised once again. He’d expected to bicker over the idea before giving up and letting you continue. 

“...yeah?” 

“Sure,” you seem puzzled with his surprise.

“...I might be interested in something more macabre or dull than you,” he gives fair warning. 

He probably doesn’t have to, considering his whole, ya know…everything. But still. 

You tilt your head thoughtfully at his announcement. 

“...there’s beauty in the macabre and morbid, too.”

Eddie stares at you for once again refusing to say what he expected you to. 

“What?” you must not know how to take his stillness. “…it’s real. Even if it’s not, like, what everyone thinks is pretty. Or art. Or…you know…” 

Uh, yeah. He does. Of course he does – he likes all sorts of shit people think is fucked.  So why doesn’t he have the words to agree with you? 

Eddie clears his throat.

He looks away from you and fiddles with the camera. It’s unreasonable to be bashful, he knows, but he ducks his head so his hair falls around his face. You’re not talking about him. But it feels like you could be…like, you’re not not talking about him. 

Or something. 

He’s such an asshole. 

“So. Come on. Pick something,” you urge him. “Lunch period is only so long…”

“Yup, yup, yup, that’s what I’m doing…” Eddie nods quickly and pops his head up. “Uh-huh. Gonna look… for… some art…” he kicks his feet through the leaves as he talks. 

He trudges further into the trees, and you follow along on the beaten-down path.  You’re quiet, giving him no hints about what may or may not be helpful for art.  He thinks of your menagerie of photos and thinks maybe the answer is “anything.” All of the things. 

Hmm. 

Alright then. 

“Here we go,” he announces, stopping to gesture at a dilapidated log and the mushrooms growing on it. “Told you…” 

You chuckle. 

“I mean…toad stools are kind of cute, in a way…” 

“Gah! Eddie swats this idea out of the air. “No. It’s fungus and gross…” 

Your eyes dance a little like you know he is trying to draw you into a debate. Some silly little argument. Is taking a shot at being a shit. 

“No…there’s, like…a real depiction of how things fall apart – natural decay,” you’re already affording time and thought to his choice. “And a lesson in randomness…” 

“Cuz I randomly picked it,” Eddie chuckles. 

You roll your eyes, and it’s delightful, actually. 

“I meant in the way they’re growing,” you wave at the little things. “True randomness can repeat or group together like this…we tend to think of randomness as spread out. Anyway… …go on,” you nod at the camera in Eddie’s hands. 

Only now he feels a little pressure.  Like this matters or something. You like it…or you don’t dislike it. He hadn’t expected that.

Huh. 

“... …you notice a lot of things,” he tells you. 

Because it’s true, though he’s not sure what he feels about it. Doesn’t have a follow-up thought on the matter. 

You blush and scuff your heel at the dry dirt.

Eddie still isn’t clear why anyone would be bashful around him, of all people, but it’s cute. 

“Well...if you’re thinking in a certain way, there can be a lot to notice…” 

Jesus H. Last week, he’d been spooked by your quiet observations. Now you’re sort of proving him right, but it just feels intriguing. Like something he wants to shift closer to... “Look,” he sighs. “About last week…” he gives a little cough to buy time and refrains from staring down at his feet like a scared kid – barely. 

So he doesn’t miss that your shoulders stiffen just a little. 

“Eddie, you don’t have to…” 

He does, though. Like, he’d been avoiding you…for what? Because you’d been nice to him? He’d been steeling himself for the worst –why? 

Well. No. he knows the answer to that one: because most people are the fucking worst. Obviously.  He’d expected you to fall in line. To want something in return. 

Diiiiiick. 

To his credit, he’s been fucked over a lot. Experience has told him it’s better to keep most people at arm's length. 

…only he suspects that’s not the case with you. 

Which is turning out to be more of a headfuck than it should be.

“Nah, I do,” he shakes his head. “Just. We’re good, okay? I’m good…” 

“Alright…” 

“I shouldn’t have been pissy with you. I just….got all in my head with my bullshit?” he attempts, and poorly since he’s making excuses – he’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to. “It’s not you, that’s all. You were just trying to help…”

There. 

That’s the point. 

Hah. He can do this. 

“I was, yeah,” you seem to be lightening back up if the set of your shoulders is a proper gauge.  “I hope I did, anyway…” 

“You did,” Eddie nods and stares at the sorry little log because he doesn’t really want to go too deep down that road. “I shouldn’t have avoided you and shit…” 

“Mmm…” 

Which. Your little murmer doesn’t really indicate whether you’d even noticed that. Like…Eddie thinks you had. You had tried to say “hi” the one time, and he’d caught your eye and gone on his way without acknowledging you a few times... 

“Cuz, you know,” he clears his throat. “We had kind of a nice after school thing going for a while…” 

And an after D&D thing. 

He’s been starting to think of it as a thing, at least. 

Fuck. Or, alternatively, he’d been annoying you the whole time. Christttt. That’s probable. So probable.  He’s a lot, sometimes. He knows so because he’s been told so. Maybe you haven’t noticed his distance at all, he’s just egocentric and made it about him and – 

“I see,” you interrupt.  “So this is about still looking for the nude drawings…” 

“Hah!” a surprised laugh hops up out of Eddie’s throat, and it feels like relief. 

You’re teasing. 

Yes. 

Thank fuck – he isn’t some parasocial shithead. He knows things. 

“Yeah. I guess that’s it,” he smiles. “Gotta just keep your around until I see those.” 

“Typical boy…” 

Uh. Yeah. Hardly, thank you very much.

But you seem content so there is no point in bickering, probably. Especially when he hasn’t said everything he knows he should. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts so he can wrap up. “Sorry for being…” – fuck, what had be been? Freaked out? Flighty? Stubborn? – “...for being shitty for a minute.” 

That sums it up just fine.  

“Well, it was more than a minute, really…” 

Eddie seizes up for a second, but…you’re smiling. 

Ah. Still in the clear. 

“...why do you have to go and be harsh?” he steps back and throws his arms out wide, while still being careful of the camera. “Thought we were having a whole moment here…” 

“I’m just saying”

“You know…this is probably why Dustin is always running away from you. You’re cruel,” Eddie makes sure his sweet smile is in place so he doesn’t ruin this shit. 

“No. That’s because he is dramatic,” you laugh. “Always has been. Even before he met you.” 

“Me?” Eddie looks behind him and to either side in thorough – if dishonest – confusion. 

“That’s right, Munson. You,” you continue to grin even as you accuse him. “Now, come on …no more stalling.” 

You point at the camera, an out from the conversation if he wants it. Which…he decides he does. He’d said what felt right. 

“Okay…” 

He’s a little nervous again with his fungus – now there’s a sentence. 

Chuffing, he squats down closer and peers through the lens. 

“Where should I take it from?” he leaves it up to you. 

“However you want” 

Rude of you to obfuscate all responsibility just because he’d claimed custody of the camera.  You weren’t actually supposed to allow him free reign! He might do anything with it… 

“Well, I want to get it right,” he realizes this truth as he says it. 

“There’s no wrong, really” 

“Ugh… you should take it”

“No. You picked it out…” 

“I’m not artsy, though.  I won’t get a good photo…” 

“You’ll get a fine photo. Besides, you judge what is and isn’t good all the time – you’re a musician. That’s art, too...” 

Ooof, if you keep being so nice he might do something foolish. He refrains from telling you so only because he knows it will make you blush, and maybe possibly not in the good way. 

Hard to tell. 

Focus, Munson! He remembers how you’d puttered around for a good angle or lighting or whatever earlier, so he shuffles around to decide which side he likes the best.  Maybe more for dramatic effect than to really inspire himself. 

Sometimes mood is everything, though. 

“...this is very different from music…” 

He doesn’t say music is better. But it is. That’s just a given

“So what? I want to see a picture you take,” you encourage and squat down beside him, arms folding over your knees. 

Fuck. Look at you being flattering again. 

Flustered, Eddie moves on impulse and snaps a picture of you. Sudden. He hadn’t lined it up or thought about the light. Hopefully he caught the expectant little smile of yours, though… 

“Eddie!” you complain over the camera’s whirring. 

“What? You said I’m the artist.” 

“Sure, but I’m not–” 

“Here,” he tugs the picture free and shoves it at you. “Now hush. I’m doing art…” 

More like hiding a sudden and stupid fit of diffidence behind the little black device.  You do go quiet for him while he moves around a little more. He even hunkers in on his knees and elbow to really get up close and personal. 

“...you can take more than one. It’s just polaroids so you’ll know if –”

“Shh,” he tells you again. “I’m using my critical eye…” 

“Oh, sure – sorry,” you whisper, and Eddie grins. 

A few more seconds of needless fussing, and then he just takes the damn photo. Best to stop building it up. 

“There – you’ve diversified your portfolio,” you smile while you stand together.

Eddie scoffs and hands the camera back to you. Then he starts brushing leaves and dead grass from himself. Maybe actually becoming one with the foliage hadn’t been his best option…but, then, those other options were probably more boring. 

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you see it,” you chide him and let the photo feed into your palm. 

“Yeah, yeah…” 

He isn’t sure he wants to see, honestly. 

He glances down the trail. He can’t see “his” picnic table from here. He’d meant to go check…

“What’s wrong?” you’re watching him. 

“...nothing.” 

He would rather stick with you. 

“Guess we should head back in then…” 

Ugh. Booo. Eddie knows time is getting short, but English awaits him, and this is more interesting than Shakesphere by a longshot. 

“And, umm…I’m not actually mad. Just so we’re clear,” you add and Eddie’s eyes find yours to frown in confusion. “I realize I didn’t really acknowledge your apology.” 

Oh. Well, not directly.  Eddie is fluent in beating around the bush, though, so he’d taken your teasing as an olive branch. Message received. All good. Roger that. 

“Yeah, alright – I get you,” he nods.

You nudge him with your elbow as you head back across the field toward school.  It’s a light, friendly action that he could take in easy grace…instead he sways and stumbles to the side. 

“Like I said – cruel!” 

“Oh. Like I said….dramatic…” 

Eddie snickers. He belatedly nudges you back. He expects you to return said drama in your own way, but you don’t. You smile and tuck your camera into the small bag you’re carrying. 

“Want to see your masterpieces?” you’re still holding them between your fingers. 

“Not really”

He plucks them from you anyhow.  The one of you is nice –a little obscured by your hair, but it caught the light over part of your grin and an approximation of that glint he catches in your eye sometimes. 

He refuses to linger on it and flicks to the other photo.  It’s not as lit as he thinks it should be. Then again…it’s a photo of the ground. 

“I’ll stick with guitar, I think…” 

“Yeah?” you laugh. 

He nods as he hands them back. 

He watches you, and he decides he likes the way you smile at the photos even if he doesn’t know what to think of them himself. 

“Whatever you say, Munson…” .

“Psst – hey, Munson,” you slide up against the locker next to Eddie’s. 

He blinks like he’s surprised, which is rich because it’s not like it’s hard to find people in a school this size. 

“Hend-Her-Son”

You’ve decided not to give undue attention to any of these plays on your name, but that one makes you chuckle. For a second. 

Eddie grins, which makes the break in composure worth it. You want him in a good mood. 

“How do you feel about doing me a favor?” 

He barks a laugh before he clunks open his locker. 

“Good try. Tell me about the favor first…” 

Yeah, fair enough.  

Now that his locker is open, you are distracted with your own curiosity. You lean around the door to peek inside and find it cluttered but otherwise stark and empty. It doesn’t seem to fit him at all. 

“It’s school property,” he scoffs when you give him your assessment. “I bring as little of my shit here as possible…” 

Hm.  Okay. 

Maybe that is on brand for him, after all. 

“Alright. So my favor,” you get back on track.  “Can you give Dustin a ride home from Club tonight?” 

Given the mea culpa yesterday, you feel like it’s appropriate to ask. 

“Yeah? Everything alright?” he stops unstacking the books piled in his locker to aim a frown at you. 

Kind of him to ask. Further proof the air is clear and you’re good. It had been a strange week when he’d started keeping distance. He’d gotten so short with you…which was fine, really, except it was such a 180. He’d stopped popping by “your” tree …and again that was fine. 

Except you've grown used to your little exchanges — even the jokes about nudes. You like talking to him. 

His absence had felt oddly like a loss. 

“Oh, yeah – no worries. I’m just having a friend over after school – Lindsey Hamlin? She’s…having a bad week,” you shrug and keep things vague even though Eddie has never struck you as a gossip-monger. “So we’re having a girls night, and…I mean I could bring her to pick-up, but…” 

“But little brother cramps your style,” Eddie catches on, nodding. 

“...I never said that.” 

Eddie smirks and shuts his locker now that he’s successfully freed his math text. 

“I’ll get him home,” he promises. 

“You will?!”

“Sure” 

Moment of truth: 

“...you know that means Mike, too?” 

“No! Wheeler will have to walk,” he deadpans and slices one of his ringed hands through the air enthusiastically enough a passing Freshman flinches out of the way. 

Because you’ve gotten a good feel for Eddie by now, you can tell he’s joking. You swat his arm for the offense. 

“You would ask me for a favor and then do violence unto me?!” he gripes with similar flare. 

“Wow…getting in form for tonight already?” you’re glad he’d at least kept his volume down even if his words themselves are showboaty. 

He laughs, which you like. 

“So – you’re cool with taking him and Mike home?” you verify. 

“Yes,” Eddie seems to understand you need to hear it in order to shirk your duty with good conscience. He even catches your eye to nod. 

“Great! Thanks …I’ll owe you,” you promise and join him as he starts heading down the hall.

“Ah, yes – bow before me until your debt is repaid!” he returns to his deeper, more grandiose voice. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself — the favor isn’t that great.”

“Eh. S’pretty great”

Eddie’s sweet smile is very charming. You aren’t even sure he knows it, but it’s true— the way it crinkles up his face. So really you can’t help your own smile …but you won’t give in. 

“…it’s kind of okay.” 

“What happened: you’re great Eddie. The best Eddie. I need you help Eddie!!!” he throws on a horrendously pitched voice. 

Oy vey. 

“I take it back. Dustin can owe you” 

He titters over that, too. 

“Yeah, yeah – no one owes me. You’re good… …” he waves the notion aside. “Do I need to park down the block when I drop him off or anything?”

He asks so blandly. Like he expects that kind of request and it’s no big deal to be ashamed of him. 

And…your mom is a worrier, yes, but she’s not even that bad. Would she be dubious of Eddie? Sure, probably. But if you and Dustin said he was a friend he’d be welcome through the door, not to mention the damn driveway. 

 Not that it matters. 

“No, nothing like that…and mom will be gone tonight anyway. Wine and Bridge night at the Matthews’.” 

“Oooo, Bridge,” Eddie repeats in a hushed, reverent tone. 

“Mmhmm, sacred stuff” 

“Undoubtedly ...alright,” he sighs, pausing near the dreaded math class. “You’ll get a little brother delivered tonight. One time only deal.” 

“Thanks, Eddie” 

“Uh-huh – One. Time. Only,” he repeats. 

And yet, you feel confident he would do it again some time if you needed... 

“I hear you,” you tell him anyway. 

He grins winningly and huffs the smallest laugh through his nose. “Oh,” you remember. “And here…” 

You reach inside the notebook you’re still carrying and rip out a page. 

“For me?” Eddie receives the paper with squeaky fanfare. 

“Obviously…” 

A proper laugh erupts out of him when he gets a look. 

“Seriously?” 

“I get bored in Economics…” 

It’s a sketch of a starry sky over a little toadstool, some nondescript trees line up to loom overhead. The toadstool is the focus, all curvy edges and anthropomorphized with a wide-eyed face and tiny little arms. 

“You took my morbid scenery and made it cute,” he makes a go at complaining, but he’s still smirking a bit. 

“Look again…” 

Brow quirked, he does so. 

“Does he have fangs?” 

“Maybe!” 

“...you drew a vampire fungus and made him cute?”

He is smiling but incredulous, which makes your shoulders cinch in a little even if you’re pretty sure he’s not exactly mocking. 

“...I guess I’ll have to try to make the next one more terrifying…” 

Next one? Next one! Jeeze, no one said he even wants the first one. You’re really something sometimes. 

Another burble of laughter makes your gut swoop. If –

“Don’t worry, I love it. M’gonna name him …her?” Eddie tilts the photo like he’s trying to decide between, and he completely ignores Kurt Thomas who shoulders by him to trudge into the classroom. 

“Whichever you like” 

“...they’ll tell me,” he shrugs and slides the picture into his textbook. 

It will be forgotten in there, you think.  But at least you’d both enjoyed it for a few minutes. That was the point, really.  You’ve flipped the page on plenty of your artwork and never enjoyed it as much again. 

The bell rings, and Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“See you – thanks again” 

“I’m owed a debt!” 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, so you do and then head home with a smile.  You’re in the kitchen with Lindsey when you see Eddie’s again. His van pulls up to the lawn. 

Eureka. 

You have a plan, see? And only now can it be set in motion...

“Be right back, you head out the front door on a mission.  

You can make out Eddie and Dustin talking in the van, both of their hands gesticulating about something. This was probably Dustin’s favorite ride home from Club, Eddie being infinitely cooler than you and all. 

Even wrapped up as they are, Eddie spots your approach and rolls down his window. 

“Hey – good night?” 

“Yeah”

“Of course!” Dustin curls bounce as he nods.

He doesn’t look at all moved by your presence or inspired to get moving.  Good thing you know your brother. 

“Linds is working on some cookies – we went on a run to Bradley’s”

“Ugh! You couldn’t have waited so I could go?” Dustin groans as planned. 

“Am I not a good sister? Obviously I got you covered…” 

“What?” his eyebrows pop. “Licorice?” 

“Duh” 

Dustin preens and snaps his seatbelt off so he can throw open the door and hop out of the van. 

“Thanks Eddie!” he calls once he’s already scurrying over the yard. 

“...I see where I stand…” Eddie sighs. 

“Below candy,” you verify. 

Eddie shrugs like this is probably fair. 

“...so everything went fine?” you glance in the back of the van but there is no Mike. 

“Sure,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Not like they’re that complicated…” 

“I know. Still…” 

He nods. 

“Quack, quack”

Uh?

You glance around the yard. 

“...what?

“You’re like a momma duck with them,” he explains with a grin. 

“Oh…well,” you can’t really argue with him there. “I know I can be…” 

But Dustin’s been through a lot. Even when he’s trying your last nerve you’re still going to make sure he’s okay and as happy as possible. You have to. He’s your favorite even when he’s a punk. 

“Not saying it’s a bad thing,” Eddie’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Just something I’ve noticed…” 

“Mmm…the boys have just kind of become my other brothers, so…I don’t know. I just have to look out…” 

Jonathan had been similar in his own way. You miss him. 

“S’cute” 

“...you’re mocking.”

You think he is, anyway. But Eddie waffles his head back and forth. 

“Only like 25%...” 

“Look who suddenly likes math” 

He throws a hand over his chest like he’s wounded. 

“Anyway,” you glance over your shoulder to ensure Dustin has disappeared inside. When you turn back to Eddie you see you’ve caught his curiosity; he’s leaning toward the window, brows raised. “I think I sort of already hinted that Linds is…stressed. I was wondering if you have anything on you I could buy to help her with that…” 

You throw on a hopeful smile that should advertise that you will be a great customer. The best, even. Lindsay’s parents are working on a contentious divorce, so she could use a relaxer. 

You wouldn’t mind one either.

“...you mean more than cookies?'' The smile on Eddie’s face is wide. Almost shit-eating like he’s learned something splendid. 

“Much better” 

“Oh, I got you…” 

He doubles-over to rummage around under his seat.  He straightens back up with a black lunch pail to sit in his lap. 

“...here,” he pulls two slim joints from inside. 

Excellent.

“Okay, how much?” 

“Nah,” he shrugs and shakes them at you. 

“I wasn’t asking for a gift” 

“Yeah. I heard…” 

“...Eddie, come on.” 

He scoffs. 

“First time customer discount, huh?  Gotta get you to come back… …” 

You give him a look. One that makes Dustin shifty sometimes. 

Nothing. 

Fine.

You pluck one of the smokes from between his fingers. 

“Jesus Christ….” he chortles.

“We’ll be fine with that”

“Take it”

“No”

“Take it”

“We don’t need–” 

“I will drive up and down this street waving it out the window,” he wiggles the joint around for emphasis, “telling everyone the eldest Henderson kid is giving it away for free.” 

So. 

Freaking. 

Theatric. 

“Yeah right.” 

Eddie blinks at you. Then he slams his foot into the break and grabs the gear shift. 

“Okay!” you burst and lean in to grab the second joint. “Geeze…” 

You should’ve known better than to doubt him. To practically dare him. Now he’s smirking like he is oh-so-very proud of himself. 

“Consider it commission for the toadstool”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t think he’s making fun. Not really. 

“Commission…” 

“Mmhmm. And if you two don’t use it this weekend, just….save it for something artsy fartsy. You ever light-up to paint or some shit?” He watches you with interest. 

You grin.

“Mayyyyybe…” 

Yes, is the correct answer. You’ve leaned out of your back window in the evening to get a little stoned and get to work. Not often. Not regularly. But…yes. 

“Maybe, she says,” he chuckles. 

“Not often, but I have. Like… sometimes I plan too much, you know? I have a lot of ideas but getting started can be hard… …so a helper is fun now and then,” you twist the joints between your fingers. 

He nods along like he gets it. 

You wonder if he does. 

“Yeah, I bet.  I think I’d like to see that — getting artsy and weird,” he muses.. 

“Weird, huh?” 

“Oh the weirdest,” he nods solemnly. 

Not only have you procured the substance you’d wanted, but you’re pretty sure you’ve been complimented. Not a bad night so far. 

“Thanks, Eddie…”

He nods and watches you reach past the neckline of your shirt so you can tuck the joints into the front of your bra strap. He snorts a little laugh but doesn’t comment. 

“Gotta do whatcha gotta do…”

“No judgment,” he flicks his hands off the steering wheel to show his harmlessness. 

“Better not be … …see you,” you laugh your farewell as he crosses his heart. 

“Catch you later” 

You watch him pull away from the curb and nod to yourself. 

Later. 

Sounds nice. __________

Next Chapter >>

[dcbbw]

Suburban Housewife

I have no idea what this story is. What I do know is it isn’t TRR related (that I know of) but leaving the characters to reader’s choice/imagination.  

Huge THANK YOUs to the folks who read this over; the feedback and idea-bouncing was amazing, as it always is.  

THANK YOU to any and all who will read this; your likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated more than you realize. I really hope you enjoy it! 

Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. I did a decent proofing and edit … but it’s me, guys. If it makes any difference, MS Editor rates this story as 98% error free.  

Rating is M for Mature

All characters belong to me 

Song Inspiration: Safehouse, Collar 

Word Count: 2,033 

Content Warning: implied/alluded to animal abuse

The woman quietly entered her kitchen through the back door, careful to shut and lock the door behind her. She flipped the light switch, bathing the room in soft light. The house, like her neighborhood, was blanketed in darkness and filled with stillness and quiet. The furnace kicking on confirmed what she already knew: the early morning was chilly on this dawning autumn day.  

She carried a pair of running shoes in one hand; they were dirty and needed to be put in the washing machine. A quick glance at the hoodie and yoga pants she wore told her they needed to be tossed in as well. The woman didn’t like dirty clothes.  

The girl’s eyes were squinted tightly against the fluorescent lighting as she was led from what was termed “the cubbyhole”, a small, tight closet with no light or toilet. She had been there for three days, and her meager clothing was soiled and stiff with urine and feces. Her voice was hoarse from screaming obscenities, crying, and wailing pleas for release. All of which had gone unheard.  

Freeing her hair from the loose ponytail she had pulled it back in, she silently traversed her way into the adjoining washroom where she quickly stripped herself of the outerwear, placing the attire atop the waiting load in the washer. She liberally coated everything with detergent before setting the water temperature to cold and beginning the cycle.  

Clad only in a pair of navy-blue boyshorts, she made her way back to the kitchen, pausing at one of the counters to pull a banana from a wooden bowl filled with fresh fruit. A glance at the microwave clock showed her it was just 5:30; she decided to prepare the day’s lunches. Chewing slowly on the fruit, the woman opened the refrigerator, her eyes surveying its contents.  

Her husband would have last night’s meatloaf and mashed potatoes; the children would have deli meat sandwiches, chips, juice boxes. As she pulled the ingredients, the woman also made a mental note of what to add to her grocery list besides what she needed to make chicken tortilla soup for that night’s dinner.  

They were low on milk and lunch meat; she planned on cooking her family a hot breakfast that morning, so more eggs and sausage. Juices. Pasta and sauce. Potatoes. Bread. Produce. Maybe a roast for Sunday dinner. 

As she prepared the noon meals for her family, the woman looked around her cozy kitchen with satisfaction. Neat, clean, orderly and painted in a soft green color with gray accents, stainless steel appliances. The entire house had been painted in soft neutrals: beige, grays, greens; the woman didn’t like the color white.  

The hospital had been all white: walls, floors, doors, sheets, uniforms.   

Straightjackets.  

All gleaming harshly and austerely beneath 24-hour lighting.  

Her gaze paused at the butcher’s block filled with knives. One was missing; she would need to replace it. 

 Soon.  

Once the lunches were prepared and packed away, she placed them on the top shelf of the refrigerator. She pulled out the eggs, placing the carton on the counter.  

She looked around, making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything; the silver-colored dog bowls in the corner caught her attention. The woman absolutely loathed the dog; he ate her shoes and shitted all over the house. When outside, he tore into her azalea bushes and rummaged in the garbage cans.  

Her family loved the animal.  

She emptied the day-old food into a plastic bag, tying it tightly before placing it inside the kitchen trash can; the water she poured down the drain. She placed the bowls back where they belonged before exiting the room; she made sure to turn off the lights as she went.  

She was a silhouette as she crossed through the living area, the only illumination coming from the streetlamps barely visible through the closed blinds. The woman passed the groupings of family photos on end tables and the fireplace mantle without glancing at them; she wanted to shower and dress before anyone else woke up.  

In her bedroom, she paused in the doorway to stare at her still-sleeping husband. He lay on his side, facing her; his strong features were softened, almost vulnerable in repose. The stubble covering his jawline and chin was thicker. He would need to shave today; the woman would leave his razor on the sink’s ledge as a reminder.  

In the bathroom, she opened the medicine cabinet for toothpaste; her medication stared back at her. The woman exhaled a small sigh; it was no longer as potent, as evidenced by her middle-of-the-night awakening and recurring dreams. She should tell her doctor, but she was fine. She had a real family now and was loved by them.  

It was all she needed.  

The wooden frame house was engulfed in flames so bright, it lit the small community as if it were sunshine. Plumes of thick black smoke curled against the night sky, obliterating the stars. Firefighters battled the blaze while neighbors wondered if there were any survivors other than the young, barefoot teenage girl clad in a white cotton nightgown at the forefront of the crowd. Her hair hung in a straight curtain, framing her face and hiding the cruel smirk that curved her lips.  

When questioned by local police officers the girl, through tears and in a quavering voice, cited a childhood filled with a promiscuous mother who subjected her to physical, emotional, and psychological abuse. She claimed her mother prostituted her out to the many men who passed through their doorway.  

It was all a lie.  

The faded bruises and open wounds on the child’s body were determined to be self-inflicted, and a gynecological examination found the girl to still be a virgin. Her mother was happily married to her college sweetheart, the girl’s father.  

The girl was sentenced to the county’s psychiatric hospital for the criminally insane until such time she could stand trial.  

The woman was toweling off when her husband appeared through mango-scented steam. She smiled brightly at him.  

“Good morning!” 

He dutifully kissed her cheek, but his expression was troubled. “You left the bed at 3am. I thought you were taking the sleeping pills?” 

He had no idea her sleeping pills were actually a grade-A level anti-psychosis medication to suppress her homicidal rages. The woman took great care to ensure he would never know.  

Her eyes searched his face quickly. “I forgot last night,” she lied. “I woke up wide awake and couldn’t get back to sleep. Decided to go for a run.” 

Her husband nodded slowly. “You’ll take it tonight? We both know rest is important to you.” 

She nodded. “I will. Promise.” She gave him a quick kiss on his lips.  

The woman felt a sliver of fear coil in her belly. She loved her husband, loved her children. She didn’t want to lose them, lose the security being a wife and mother offered her.  

It was a good life, for the most part: Friday night football games at the neighborhood high school, followed by pizza and ice cream; chores on Saturday, and church on Sunday. Backyard barbecues, bike riding in the nearby park, family game nights.  

This house was their fourth move in six years; she and her husband both liked and enjoyed the home immensely as well as the neighborhood: lots of children, leafy trees, friendly people, and close to necessities and amenities. But just as in their previous neighborhoods, incidents began happening.  

Missing pets, small fires, vandalism upon neighboring houses.  

Her husband hadn’t heard the rumors and whispers, thank God. He was a trusting man, not a stupid one.  

Abruptly she turned, pressing her naked body close to his as she wrapped her arms around him. She sighed in relief when she felt him return her hug. She wasn’t ready to let go of what she had built.  

But she was prepared to.  

While her husband showered, the woman hastily dressed and made their bed. She took care to tuck the fitted sheet closer to her side of the mattress than usual. Her husband trusted her implicitly, but so had others. And still she had been found out.  

A half-hour later, her family was seated at the kitchen table, eating their hot breakfast of sausage links, scrambled eggs, grits, and toast. The children were giving their father one-word grunts in answer to his questions about what would be happening at school that day. He soon gave up and continued to eat his meal quickly and quietly.  

Her daughter looked around in puzzlement. “Mom, where’s Toodles?” 

Toodles was the dog.  

The inquiry caused her father and brother to look around the room expectantly, anticipating the pet to appear at hearing his name. 

The woman was rummaging in the fridge for the lunch sacks. “He ran out when I went for a jog this morning. He’ll return at some point.” 

“What if he gets hurt?” her daughter asked in a panicked voice.  

“He won’t. He’s smart,” the woman assured.  

Her husband rose from the table, preparing to leave out. His wife admonished her children to hurry up, the school bus would be arriving soon before following her spouse to the front porch. She kissed him sweetly, with just a touch of tongue. He returned the kiss, a tad more deeply.  

“You get some rest today. I’ll bring home dinner.” 

She nodded, a small smile playing about her lips. “Chinese?” she asked hopefully.  

“You got it, kid,” he winked at her over his shoulder. 

The woman stood on the porch, watching his dark blue Maxima back down the hilly driveway. He had just pulled off up the street when her kids came tumbling through the doorway, shrugging backpacks over their shoulders.  

Her eyes darted between her son and daughter.  

“Homework?”  

The children nodded affirmatively.  

“Lunches?”  

Again, they nodded.  

She held her arms out to give them hugs and kisses. “You are brave and kind and smart and good-looking. Have a GREAT day!” 

The kids gave her kisses on her cheek before walking down the incline the house sat on; her son looked back uneasily at his mother. The woman watched carefully from a porch chair as her children talked and joked with the neighborhood kids as all waited for the big yellow bus. As she always did, the woman waited until she saw her children board the bus, and the bus turn the corner before entering the house.  

She locked the door behind her and turned on the television to a local new station for background noise. She placed pans, plates, utensils, and glasses in the dishwasher before wiping down counters and the kitchen table. She wrote out her grocery list, deciding she would go to the store tomorrow after the kids were off to school.  

As she did her tasks, the woman decided she didn’t need to call the doctor; despite her body’s newly-found complacency with the medication, she was still fine. Nearly fifteen years since her release, and she was both wife and mother to a family that was very much alive and well, happy and healthy.  

No, she didn’t need to call the doctor for herself.  

But her son was a different story ... 

She yawned heavily; she was beginning to feel tired. A daytime nap would be a good thing.  

But first, she had to bury the damn dog and dispose of the missing knife.  

She was a good mother.  

Tagging:  @jared2612​​ @ao719​​ @burnsoslow​​ @marietrinmimi​​ @merridithsmiscellany-blog​​ @queenjilian​​ @indiacater​​ @kingliam2019​​ @bebepac​​ @liamxs-world​​ @mom2000aggie​​ @cmestrella​​ @liamrhysstalker2020​​  @neotericthemis​​ @twinkleallnight​​ @umccall71​​ @superharriet​​  @busywoman​​ @gabesmommie1130​​ @tessa-liam​​ @phoenixrising0308​​ @beezm​​ @gardeningourmet​​ @lovingchoices14​​ @foreverethereal123​​ @mainstreetreader​​ @angelasscribbles​​ @lady-calypso​​ @emkay512​​ @jovialyouthmusic​​ @21-wishes​​ @princessleac1​​ @charlotteg234​​ @queenrileyrose​​ @alj4890​​ @yourfavaquarius111​​ @motorcitymademadame​​ @bbrandy2002​​ @eversoaringqueen12​​ @queenmiarys​​ @choicesficwriterscreations​

[eka-paige]

It's been a BIG week, we had like 3 days to create our entire art final (they're like 40% of our overall grade so we were freaking out) so every spare chance for 3 straight days my class (the 8 of us) spend in the art room inhaling sweet sweet methylated spirits and paint fumes and as such we went insane and I thought the internet should hear some of the things that were said.

{C- Ms R I'm going to the toilet to cry alone

Ms R- yeah sure whatever}

{C- look we'll just live laugh love

Me- NO

C- my bad, live laugh love is now banned in the art room}

{L (a year 12 art student) - how do I make green paint?}

{A- E does this look good?

Me- yeah!

A- DONT LIE TO ME}

{A- I'm going to cry

Ms R- no, no crying

Me+C- NO CRYING AND NO LIVE LAUGH LOVING THEYRE BANNED IN THE ART ROOM}

{L- I want to kill myself

Everyone- SAME} (this was repeated many times)

{R- LOOK AT HOW MUCH IVE DONE ITS BECAUSE OF THIS ENERGY DRINK ... E take photos they need to sponsor me}

{Everyone at least once- God I love caffeine}

{C- *opens new pack of pastels that are in perfect condition* *audibly moans*

Everyone else- WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT}

{Me- *breathes in direction of new pastels

C- GET AWAY, STOP}

{C- I'm going to the toilet

Me- to cry?

C- I'll decide on the way}

{A- *slowly sinks to the ground and curls up in the fetal position* ok I'm done}

There's also several photos of her on the floor, photos of R lying on a bunch of chairs and a pic of everyone each holding their work up smiling like a 5yo 😂

@janes-a-charted-stan wanted to know when I'd post this so here twin I tagged you

[spyroforlife]

Aight I’m doing it, gonna explore some of my VERY OLD writing, the first “books” I ever wrote. Gonna use the tag ‘my old writing’ for this if ya wanna block it, but anyway it is time for me to reminisce >:) I’ll probably devote a post to each book I decide to post pics of, and I’ll likely do a format where the cover page will be in the main post, and the rest under a read more. Now without further ado…

ah yes. The label on the shoe box I kept all these in. Love how I wrote this as if it would actually stop anyone from opening it

(it has my full name on there so I of course blotted that out lol)

Ahh gotta love that old school Microsoft Office clipart. Anyway it is time to open the box and select my first victim

OH I forgot I also used this much later on to store letters that were written to me in basic training (gently moves those aside)

…I’ve made a fatal error, this box doesn’t have my most ancient stories, it has ones from slightly later on in my childhood. NOO where is my Charmander and Torchic story!! Ah well I may have to delay this adventure until I rescue the early stories from my storage unit, but for now. This will do.

Once upon a time (probably before 2008 but idk when exactly) my older brother made the fatal mistake of revealing to me that people will actually go on the Internet and just post weird lil stories :O Like they’ll just write something funny. And post it. And other people can read it. Wow!

Naturally, I wanted to try it, and came up with a really ridiculous idea about giant weiner (or wiener, I kept changing the spelling) dogs that ended up morphing into a multi-story saga where it turned out the giant dogs are actually ALIENS and Earth ends up destroyed, also it features me and my older brother as self-inserts which he thought was GREAT. The best thing? None of this actually made it onto the Internet but I sure did print out the whole dang story, make a cover, and then tie it all together with nice gold thread. More under the cut

I just wanted to post the full first page so y’all can get an idea of the ridiculousness of my early writing. I was probably like. Actually I don’t think I was even 10 yet. Or maybe I was? Ehh about 10, maybe a little older but I’m relatively sure I wasn’t a teen yet. My brother helped contribute parts of this (like the strange, funky business part) but most of this was written by me.

As you can see the gross out humor is in full effect. Of course. As I was a young child who watched Nickelodeon. Moving on

A small excerpt I just happened to enjoy. “Let’s go drink the sacred toilet water!!” is quality dialogue let’s be real here. From here on out I’m just gonna share my titles from each story

This is the start of the second story in the series, and it heralds a running thing with me criticizing people if they happen to skip stories and read out of sequence

“if you had even bothered” TWEEN ME WITH THE SNARK

Yeah said picture of Kibblion is actually what was on the cover page. Made in MS Paint, to everyone’s shock I’m sure

I don’t care what anyone says, I was funny back then. My older brother said so which means it’s true

How much do you wanna bet this one wasn’t actually the last story? Don’t bet anything, it actually was, whoa :O I had a thing back then where I liked doing Animal House style epilogues so-

I promise there was context to all this. My self insert (Kari, of course) and the guy from the start, Joe, got to go to Kibblion and we inexplicably turned into alien weiner dogs ourselves. I think I handwaved this as “radiation”

My brother (Chris) got to be the villain who also survived Earth’s destruction and he had psychic powers just because.

the weiner dogs have a thing in their society about not eating animals unless they’re dangerous ones, hence them pulling bullshit like “oh this animal is tasty but not a threat? Oh- we’ll make it dangerous then :)”

Other names are just other random characters, mostly weiner dogs. but uhh yeah. There you go

the random shit I wrote back then. I promise I’ll dig out the truly old stuff but ohh my god looking back at this series was so funny. Maybe I could transcribe it all and post it to AO3. I already did that with some other old stories of mine which can be found here so. HmMM >:)

well lemme know what you think and I hope you enjoyed this ridiculous nostalgia trip

[pleb-the-original]

Day 5: MS Paint

(Ok so this one is actually really special and honestly my favorite creation so far. I went with the sparkledog route since it fit the idea of something really garish. I used some generators to create her, but after writing her story I fell in love. I dunno what it is but once I wrote her entry she just stayed in my mind. So now I have a new fursona: Hecrie the living digital art piece.)

Name: Hecrie Species: Dog Personality: Approachable and talkative but needs a lot of time to open up due to shyness. Obsessive. Acts like a tumblr user. Very steeped in fandom culture. Creative. Has a slight temper. Neurodivergent coded. A little clingy. Childlike. Summary: Somewhere on an old computer lied a drawing of a young teen’s oc. They were a sparkledog named Hecrie. She had yellow medium length fur, rainbow paint splatters, thick orange stripes, aqua paw pads and nose, a green mouth, green blood, narrow rainbow eyes that dotted her face, and floating wings that hovered above her back. She also wore cyberpunk style clothes. Specifically a leather jacket with copper studs and rainbow accents and a pair of sunglasses that displayed holographic messages that covered a few of her eyes. The innocent love and care poured into her creation would actually bring her to life, although she only woke up after the teen had grown up and decided to abandon their old passions. That’s when Hecrie managed to escape into the wider internet by crawling out of her file and hopping into the cloud. Now she was connected to the modern internet and fell in love. She also inherited the interests of the teen, specifically browser based pet games and horror media. Now she just surfs the web, creating accounts on sites relevant to her interests masquerading as a normal human user. Unlike the human users however, she can actually coexist with the elements of a website since she is a digital creature herself. She likes to actually play with her online pets like a real person. She also loves to read creepypastas and online horror, both old and new. This extends to actually hopping into fan art made by others to admire their work, although she does so when their creators aren’t looking. She has made a lot of friends across several internet communities, engaging and indulging in fandom content. Hecrie also has an interest in creating their own content, although she has to do so carefully by sneaking into other computers and using their programs since she cannot write or draw on her own. Despite her friendships with others, she is terrified of people discovering her true existence, especially after reading tons of horror stories about rogue AI clouding her idea of what humans would think of a living digital program. However, she has pegged some people as hopefully someday being able to accept the truth, those being the ones she is closest too to the point of clinginess. She hates the idea of being abandoned again and gets angry when the thought is brought up of abandoning something. She has even learned how to steal files and content from people so she can save them from abandonment, although none of them have come to life like her. But she still clings onto the hope of finding someone she can consider a true friend.

[finsterhund]

I take my ADHD meds, this morning, why? Idk I forgot that my doctor said I should only take them when I want to focus on something.

I take weed gummy evening because it is too hot and I thought that it might improve my heat resistance but I stupidly forgot it also does things to my brain. I want to chew things so bad.

I extrapolate the radial perimeter of the possible area where my grandparents farmhouse could be located based on silly little personal anecdotes and geological survey information and by manually cut-copy-pasting the scale index from a map until I get the length I want because I cannot do math. I google the furthest distance the human eye can see before needing to account for the curvature of the Earth. This is the absolute furthest distance that someone in optimal conditions on the open prairie would be able to see. I google the conversion of that into meters because they fucking told me miles for some goddamn reason and because I cannot do math. I make sure the copypasted scale index is that length. Approximately though, because I cannot do math. In order to achieve this I made the map scale index pieces into sizeable chunks that I could keep track of the totaling length of by continuing my trick of cut copy and pasting them in equal length pieces. I put a piece of masking tape on my screen and measure it out so it is that length because I stupidly decided to do all of this in MS paint and I can't rotate my special furthest-human-vision-distance scale index line on an angle. My roommate interrupts me because he wants me to buy doordash and I clench my jaw so hard my teeth make a popping sound. The piece of tape makes it way harder to order from doordash and he changes what he wants after I've already selected it. I take the tape off. I accidentally throw the tape away but not before I fucking cropped my screenshot of the map out of the larger size of screenshot that I no longer need to worry about. I have the goddamn radius. And have a rough estimate of the full radial of possible land. Technically I only need to worry about south and west areas of this circle. not north and east. Because I know that it can only be west or southwest of the one landmark. I now have one quarter of radial section of land where the farmhouse could be located. It is shaped like a piece of pie. Or like the captain health circles from the HUD of Pikmin.

I then derail my entire brain because I'm looking at the map and "hahahaha road go brrrrrrrrrr" and my brain DEMANDS on VIBES ALONE that the little homestead right off of the road (when it go brrrrrrrrr) MUST be the place. Why? I don't fucking know. The Force? Subconscious memory? The Spot Power?

It falls inside the fucking radial quarter though. Jesus fuck. But then my fucking browser crashes and I loose all 38 of relevant tabs containing five different maps. Fucking screaming crying throwing up. I still had my fucking little mspaint documents though thank fuck. So I manually find it all again right at the spot where I was. Then I go to the place where road go brrrrrrrr

So I zoom in and

YEAH FUCK BRO DUDE I THINK ITS THE FUCKING HOUSE IT LOOKS LIKE A HOUSE AND IT HAS TREES WHERE I REMEMBER BEING TREES AND I SWEAR TO FUCK. I MEAN I CANT FUCKING FLY SO I DONT HAVE STRONG MEMORY OF BIRDSEYE VIEW OF THE HOUSE I THINK I SAW A PHOTO OF IT FROM THE AIR LIKE FUCKING ONCE BUT BASED ON THIS TINY ASS GRAINY LITTLE SATELITE IMAGE I FUCKING THINK THATS IT. IM NOT GOING TO ASSUME I KNOW THIS WITHOUT A SHADOW OF A DOUBT BECASUE THE UNIVERFSE LIKES TO FUCK ME SO IM GOING TO TRY AND GIVE FAIR ASSESSMENTS TO OTHER POSSIBLE SITES IN THE DERMINED AREA BUT MAN. HOLY SHIT.

My fucking browser keeps fucking crashing as I write this but turns out the only good thing about Tumblr site updates is that the auto draft feature seems to work. Sometimes. On desktop.

There is food here now but I am focusing 👀👀👀

I really need to eat though I fucking bought this with money not even technically in my bank yet I fucking deserve this wait a minute why the fuck didn't my roommate pay for the food? Also going camping on Monday.

So I think I may have finally found the farmhouse. 🥺🥺🥺🥺

I drew it on my phone because my computer crash again

[whats-up-gamerz]

The ROAD of TRIALS: Reflection

We have finished the Road of Trials module in class! Here are some thoughts on how it went for Zenith!

Describe your Process

Describe your process used over the 6 week period to design your team's game/simulation.

Whew! So, very early on we agreed on a weekly time to meet by Zoom to confer and plan and work. After finishing our research and starting on the design proper, we first picked an order for the three mini modules and a short schedule for this. Then, we did a gamestorming activity to get plenty of ideas down and fleshed enough to discuss. In the end, we decided to combine two of the ideas together as they were very similar. Once this was done, working on the assessment, learning objectives, and storyboarding usually led to more exercises done together- we figured out some details for the Professor character together by brainstorming, explored some game inspirations, and agreed on “heads” to take lead on various parts of the game: design, prototype building, writing, and asset creation. As Zachary proceeded on the prototype, we all worked together to problem solve when he hit a wall (jeez Unity!). Once we plugged in Tia’s writing and my assets, the prototype was looking not half bad! There is PLENTY of work to do to continue, but given the extremely limited time, on top of all of our full time jobs/school schedules, I feel good about it!

What did you work on specifically?

Well, it feels weird to answer this. We made almost all decisions together and discussed the work together so much, leaned on each other so much, it feels strange to try to think of the things I did specifically myself. I was the one to lead the Gamestorming activity meeting. I was the lead of creating and integrating learning objectives and assessment into the game, and thus the main force on the design document. I also created the visual assets myself in a MS Paint clone online (it was fun to figure out how to bevel things!) and created some storyboard/fake paper prototype sketches to support the game as a “wireframe.” In the beginning, I presented on my market research since it was pretty in-depth. I’m sure there’s other things too, but that’s probably enough for this post!

Reflect on your Process

What was successful/not successful?

I would say this was a ROUSING SUCCESS. There is so, so much I was hoping our MVP would have that we don’t, namely polish, but under such time restraints, I’m proud of the work we did. Communication was a high value for us and we established expectations clearly early on. As a result, we’ve been in great contact, several times a week by text on top of our weekly meeting, and these contacts were filled with encouragement, positivity, and help! If this is game design, I would take this job in a heart beat!

If you could start over, what would you change in addressing the project?

Hmm.... maybe I would change the order of things. I think we should have contacted the client at the very beginning of the semester to collect information. As a result of the natural waiting of email communication to iron out the details, we spent precious days/weeks designing open-ended for a variety of possible learning objectives and endgoals for our client. More detailed information before the Road of Trials, more time to get it, would be HUGE. I think exploring engines for prototyping was also something I wish we had approached differently. It was very hard to settle on a system that we knew could do the things we wanted, and even harder to get the game working in our limited schedules. Having access to an “expert,” someone who knows the engine and we can ask questions to, would have been a lifesaver many times. But really, all in all, I think it went pretty dang well... I hate to say “I don’t feel like I would change anything really” but that is truly how I feel. It was a successful and enjoyable design process, with all the frustrations I expect from designing, through and through.

New Content

What new content within the Level was helpful to you as an individual designer?

Ooh... hmm. The Youtube videos about game design from Extra History were great, I want to watch the rest of their stuff for sure! And I loved the guest lectures. And of course, the best thing of all was the PLAY sections. Every game I was exposed to impacted my hopes for the game, positively or negatively. I feel like that sort of refinement is only possible from sampling many, many games.