etrioevehicles

[lexqa]

this will never not crack me up💀

[muppenthings]

I've been drawing a lot of mers lately so I had to balance it out with a bipedal. Been a while since I drew Coby and Archer so tada.

Coby's hair and ears grew or something. I like this better yep. xD

Coby's one of those giants where you have to worry about his hold being too loose. He's so scared of accidentally crushing someone. :,)

[bitchslappin]

Figure Studies

 

Summary: Joel let's his you paint him like one of your French girls (kind of not really).

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, no implied age gap but do what you want, sexual tension, voyeur to some degree, exhibitionism kind of, M masturbation, overstimulation a little bit, fluff for sure, Joel's so in love, idk the tags make it sound lame lol

Word count: 2.5k

“Quit starin’ at me. It’s creepy.”

   Joel’s voice is gruff. He’s bent over the dining room table, summer evening sun streaming in through the kitchen window. He’s cleaning his rifle. It’s been too long, he hasn’t been keeping on top of it, it’s been long enough since he’s had to use it. He’s been at it for the better part of an hour, stripped down to his t-shirt, hands covered in a layer of gun oil, sweat starting to bead on his neck from where the sun’s been resting. His girlfriend is standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, leaning on the doorframe, just watching him. She’d been down at the Tipsy Bison most of the morning, helping Maria draw up plans for the community garden expansion. Ellie is… well Joel doesn’t actually know. She hasn’t been home since last night. But she tends to couch hop around Jackson these days, and Joel can’t say he’s mad for the alone time while she bothers other people for once. 

   “Can’t help it.” She tells him with a slight grin as she cocks her head to the side, studying him. “You look so good right now.”

   Joel snorts and flicks his eyes to her, annoyed. “Yeah, right. Sweaty and greasy and angry. What a good look.” He snarks.

   He doesn’t have to see her roll her eyes, he can feel it. She walks in slowly. “‘M serious Joel. You look good.” She murmurs softly. She’s not teasing him this time, or even really flirting, her tone low and sincere. 

   He finally looks up at her then, pausing what he’s doing. His breath sticks in this throat a little bit. Even after years together, he’s not good at this. Accepting genuine compliments in a neutral setting. He’s gotten better at the flirting, and he’s more willing to give up some control in the bedroom, but this kind of thing? The softness? He’s still a little shy about it. He just shakes his head at her and says nothing. He won’t argue with her, but he doesn’t know what to say. He turns back to his task, wiping the stock of the rifle, trying to hide the tremor in his fingers. 

   She sits down next to him, pulling her legs up onto the chair and leaning her elbow on the table, her head in her hands. She watches him silently for a little while, and it’s easy for him to fall back into the rhythm of cleaning, zoning out a bit as he works. As he finishes up, fitting the pieces back into place, she interrupts the silence.

   “Can I draw you?” She asks quietly. He looks up at her with a furrowed brow. She’s quite the artist, always sketching and even painting when she has the time. One of her new friends had somehow gotten her a set of oil paints for her birthday, and Joel loved to sit for hours and watch her paint. She’s sketched him plenty of times. He’s seen some of them because she’s shown them to him, some because he spied them over her shoulder. But she’s never asked before. 

   “You… what, now?” He asks as his brows knit together in surprise. She just shakes her head with a smile. “Yeah now. Come on, please?”

   Goddamn him he can never resist that look on her face. Sweeter than sugar. He grumbles. “Fine fine…” He rolls his eyes as she smiles in triumph. “Where d’you want me?” 

   She stands and drags him by the hand into the living room, grabbing her sketchbook off the coffee table. The light is pouring into the living room as she pushes the curtains open. “Go sit on the couch. Just get comfy.” She tells him. He huffs about it but he goes to sit on the couch, groaning, when she turns back and makes a surprised noise. 

   “What are you doing?” She asks, an eyebrow raised in confusion. He’s hovering, halfway to sitting, and he frowns at her. “You told me to sit on the couch…?”

   She makes a noise in the back of her throat and pushes on her shoulder as she goes to sit on the coffee table in front of him, sketchbook on her lap. “You gotta undress first.”

   “What??” His lips part in shock and his eyebrows shoot up. “Fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

   She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Come on Joel, please? I haven’t ever been able to do real figure studies. Please?” She’s not teasing anymore, not trying to push his buttons. She’s genuinely asking. She’d always told him that when she was little, she’d dreamed about going to art school in a big city, sketching figure models for hours. But then of course… well you know what happened. He hovers there for a minute. It’s not like she hasn’t seen it before. Hell sometimes he feels like they see each other naked more than clothed. But it’s not the same. This is more exposed, in the sunlight, with her just staring at him. 

   “Can I just… just take my shirt off?” He asks with a nervous chuckle. He meets her gaze and he can see the slight of disappointment there, though she nods and gives him a smile. “Sure Joel, that’s fine.”

   He pulls the shirt over his head and hesitates, watching her face as she flips to a clean page in her sketchbook, twirling her hair up onto the back of her head and pinning it in place with a pencil. The sunlight makes all of her look golden, the strand of hair that escapes down her neck, the freckles on her cheeks… she’s glowing and he is powerless but to give her everything. Even something he thinks is silly. He huffs and commits, unbuttoning his pants and shoving everything down like he’s annoyed, but he’s really just nervous for some reason, and flops back on the couch. He shifts a little as she gazes at him. It feels different from when they’re in bed, the way she’s looking at him now. Now, she’s looking at him like a specimen, like something to study. 

   “So… how should I sit?” He asks nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Her gaze seems to shift suddenly and her eyes get softer as she smiles at him. She sets her sketch book aside and comes over to maneuver him, her brow furrowed in concentration. She pushes him to lean back, muttering “get comfy” to him softly. He leans back, one arm instinctively going to the back of the couch, his legs falling open comfortably. She smiles at him and adjusts his arm resting on the couch, moving his hand this way and that until she likes the angle. She moves to his legs then, her hands are warm and sure as she pushes at his knees, his thighs, adjusting them a little wider. He lets out a slow breath, trying to keep his cool. ‘This is for art, that’s it’ he tells himself. But then she takes his other arm, adjusting it across his body, placing his hand over his cock, already semi hard from her attention. He bluescreens for a second, looking up at her with wide shocked eyes. She just arches an eyebrow at him.

   “This okay?” She asks, her hands hovering and ready to move him if she needs to. He looks down at himself for a half a second before back up to her. ‘Be cool, Joel. Be cool’ he tells himself and clears his throat. 

   “Yeah. Yeah it’s… it’s fine.” He nods. She smiles brightly then and leans to peck a quick kiss on his lips, before moving back to the table to pick up her sketchbook. 

   She quickly gets lost in the drawing, holding her book on her knees, her pencil skritching on the paper softly. Her focus on him is intense, almost like she’s not really seeing him, she’s looking through him. For a while, he just watches her, fascinated. The way her brow is furrowed in focus, and the way her eyes move rapidly as she flicks her gaze between him and the paper. It seems silly to think but he finds himself feeling like he’s never seen her so… intimately. There’s something about the demeanor she has while she’s creating. He feels that way when he watches her paint, too, but he’s usually sitting behind her then, watching the colors take shape, looking at the landscapes with her. He’s never been the subject. He watches her fingers, delicate to him, though she might argue after the years of post-outbreak turmoil, as she uses her pencil like a magic wand. The movement of her hands is mesmerizing, the way the light catches her skin…

    It doesn’t take long for him to start getting hot under the figurative collar. ‘Stupid caveman brain’ he thinks to himself. He can’t help it. She’s so beautiful and she's looking at him like that and he feels so… vulnerable. He tries to stay still, to hold the pose, as he starts to harden under his palm. The couch under him, the sun streaming in, his hand on himself… everything is sticky and warm and his hard is beating faster. He shifts a bit in his seat, trying to hide it, to stay still for her, but catches the way he shudders as he slides against his sweaty palm. She’s doing some shading and doesn’t even look up from her paper when she breaks the silence in a low voice. 

   “Do you want to touch yourself?” She asks softly, her gaze fixed on the drawing. His head snaps up and his eyes dart around for a minute like he thinks she’ll be talking to someone else. He clears his throat.

   “Wh-what?” 

   She looks back up at him then. Her face is open, almost confused at his confusion. “Do you want to…” She gestures with her pencil at where his hand rests covering himself, speaking matter-of-factly. He glances down at his hand, curled around his hard dick. His brain still can’t process fast enough and he looks back up at her, just staring for a minute. 

   “Do you want me to?” Is what eventually spills out of his mouth. He swallows thickly as he keeps her gaze, a flush burning on the back of his neck. He’s never done anything like that before, not like this with her fully clothed and sitting five feet away from him. She smiles at him softly, the sweet look on her face is making him feel fuzzy and warm and he squirms a little bit, trying not to gasp at the friction against his palm. She nods after a beat.

   “Yeah honey, you should.” She says simply, sitting back again and picking up her pencil. She continues sketching like it’s a simple as that, but he feels caught in limbo. He doesn’t do anything at first, just sitting there with his hand curled around his cock, in the same position she put him in, a blush burning hot on his cheeks. She looks up at him for an extra beat before nodding her head at him. It’s like a signal and he jolts into action, sliding his hand loosely over his cock. 

   It feels… way better than it should and his eyes slip closed for a second, his breath hitching in his throat. Maybe it’s the build up, maybe it’s the heat in the room, or maybe it’s just the way she’s staring at him and how easy he is for her… He keeps his fist loose at first, but quickly tightens it as the movements become slick and easy, his arousal spiking. His head drops back against the back of the couch as he starts to lose himself in the movement until her voice cuts through his foggy mind.

   “Hold your pose please.” She asks firmly, her voice low. He snaps his head up and finds her eyes trained on him, his breath stuttering. She arches an eyebrow at him seriously. “I’m not finished with my drawing. Wait until I’m done.”

   The tone of her voice, the command to wait… it’s like flames licking up his spine and he barely suppresses a whine, his eyes squeezing closed. His hand is still sliding over his cock, slick with his steadily dripping arousal. She’s nearly ignoring him and it makes him feel hotter, desperate. 

   “Sugar��!” He whines. “I don’t think I can… I’m..” 

   She looks up at him again, her stern expression making him choke. 

   “You can.” She says firmly. It’s a little encouraging, a little humiliating. “Just five more minutes.” 

   He groans but finds himself nodding. She’s not usually so direct and it’s lighting a fire in his belly. He should slow down, back off a bit, but he can’t. It feels too good as he watches her pencil gliding over the page. His hips roll off the couch just barely, trying to meet the rhythm of his hand, and she either doesn’t notice, or more likely she doesn’t stop him. He’s whining through his teeth as he holds onto that knife's edge, he can’t help it. 

   “Sugar… baby…” he mutters softly, sweat dripping down the back of his neck, his mouth hanging open as he fixes his gaze on her. Maybe it’s the tone in his voice, the needy way he calls to her, or maybe she really is done, but she sets her sketch book aside, putting her pencil down, before leaning back on her hands casually. 

   “Go on then.” She tells him softly, and he breaks. The moan that tumbles out of his mouth would be embarrassing if he could hear it, but the static fills his ears as he comes hard all over his stomach. With his head tossed back against the couch, he doesn’t see the hungry look on her face, or the way she moves off the couch and kneels in front of him. He works himself through the high, his hand starting to slow and his chest heaving when she pushes his hand away, taking him in her own. He gasps sharply and looks down at her. 

   “Baby wha..?” He stutters out as she starts to stroke him firmly. She just smiles at him, leaning in to kiss his inner thigh as she works him over. Her grip is tight and slick, hot from her skin being in the sun, much smoother than his own hand, and he moans brokenly through the oversensitivity, squirming in her grip. “J-jesus baby.. Y-you…” He stutters out between sharp chirping breaths, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

   Eventually she slows her hand as he starts to soften, her movements still firm but stilling. She holds him until his breathing has calmed down. And he looks down at her. “What the fuck was that?” He asks, his voice raspy. She just laughs and shrugs. 

   “You just looked so pretty, I wanted to join in.” She tells him as she leans her head on his thigh.

   He blushes hotly and looks away for a minute. The afternoon has left him feeling vulnerable, but also syrupy and soft, better than he has in a long time.

   “I… you…” He looks back down at her before huffing in frustration. “Just get up here.” She mutters and grabs her by the elbows, manhandling her into his lap as she laughs. He drags her in for a kiss, hot and lush, before flipping her over onto the couch, looming over her.

   “My turn.”

[charlesf1leclerc]

KUWTL

Summary- a night in the life of the leclercs 

Warnings- cuteness, badly translated French, talks of bathing kids, poorly edited ( like not re read so if you see some really bad mistake please tell me )

Notes - Inds- Indy’s nickname, Lily- Sicilys nickname

It was currently 5:30 on a Saturday evening and it was time to start the Leclerc family house good night routine. You and Charles had a system a system that works as sometimes it could get a bit challenging with two little girls 6 and 2 especially they were both in polar opposite stages of their life’s but vogue just as crazy in their own way.

Both girls were sat on the couch watching cartoons to entertain them. Charles was on the dinning room table looking through that notebook of his were he writes all his racing notes, you weren’t 100% sure but you loved how committed he was to his work. You were in the kitchen getting dinner ready for your family tonight spaghetti bolognese and of course you were the one cooking as well all knew Charles could not cook for the life of him. As you were chopping up the carrots for the sauce Charles got up from the table 

and can over and kissed you on the lips. 

“ I’m gonna get the girls in the bath “ He spoke rubbing your back.

“Thank you, good luck” I laughed as he walked over to the couch we’re the girls were sat

“ ok my angles time for a bubble bath”

“No papa show not done” Sicily spoke in her cute toddler voice

“ I know but do you know how fun it’s gonna be in the bath, with bubbles and we could even get some of those bath time markers out” he kneeled down beside the couch rubbing her chubby little cheeks

“ sounds good to me” Sicily smiled jumping down from the couch

“ Ind’s you too come on Cherie “ 

“ 5 more minutessss”

“ how about I pause it and we come back and watch it again later”

“ if I must” she spoke getting off the couch as well following her sister as they both toddled us the stairs. This girls were getting far to sassy for your liking.

The girls were now currently splashing in the bath with the bubbles flying around. The bath titles were covered in doodles from the bath markers you and Charles had brought in order to keep them both occupied during bath time. Charles was shampooing both of their hair and rinsing it off with a little cup filled with water.

“ look papa flower” Sicily pointed to her drawing on the tiles that looked like a blob.

“Wow that’s very beautiful” he spoke leaning on the bathtub and stroking her freshly washed hair.

“That’s not a flower, this is” Indy spoke to her as she draw a flower on the tiled wall.

“ their both beautiful flowers girls , all flowers are different” Charles didn’t want either of the girls to get upset. 

“ ok time to get out loves dinner is basically ready I can smell it up here” 

Charles had gotten both girls out of the bath and wrapped up in their little towels. 

“ Indy why don’t you go get into your pjs and wait in your room I’ll be in once I’ve gotten Lily dressed” 

Charles had picked out the cute little pks and gotten the youngest daughter dressed and her hair brushed out knot free ready for bed. 

“ ok Lily go down stairs and keep mummy company while I check on your sister” he encouraged as she ran down the stairs excited to see her mum and to eat of course that girl loved food.

Walking into the oldest daughters room seeing her all dressed in her pj’s Charles grabbed the brush and began brushing the girls long brown locks.

 “ ouch papa”

“Sorry chérie since when did your hair get this long “ he apologised

“ it just grew I don’t know” she shrugged 

“ Dinners ready everyone “ y/n called from downstairs 

“ ok let’s go eat that delicious food Cherie” 

 Indy walked down the stairs and Charles closely followed behind her. By now the time was 6:30.

 Indy walked over and pulled a chair out to sit in at the dinning room table. While Charles swept Sicily up and placed her into her high chair she has basically grown out of.

You laid the dinner out on the placemats infront of everyone. 

“This looks delicious baby” Charles spoke taking his place at the table digging into dinner.

To say dinner was well enjoyed was an understatement the girls ate every last bite and so did you and Charles although a lot of  Sicilys food ended up on her bib that you would rather she not wear as you thought she was to old but you didn’t want her to keep getting her clothes dirty.

“Papa can we finish the cartoon like you promised now?” Indy shook Charles arm in a pleading manner

“ ok girls but only 20mins and then time to get ready for bed ok” 

“ yay thank you” Indy spoke running away 

“ up papa me wanna watch” Sicily put her arms above her head.

Charles lifted the 2 year old out of her high chair and she copied her sisters movements running into the living room behind her.

Charles packed up the dishes on the table taking them into the kitchen. While you put the placemats away and wiped down the table and high chair.

Charles had started on washing the dishes and you moved to stand next to him drying them and putting them away. There did need to be constant conversation between you two that’s just how you worked you loved each others presence.

By the time 7:30 had rolled around The two girls were both back in the bathroom this time brushing their teeth. Charles had placed the barbie toothpaste onto their toothbrush and Indy was brushing her teeth while Sicily was trying to but Charles had to help every now and then.

You were in the kids bedrooms folding back the covers and trying their night lights on getting their bedrooms ready for bed. Laying out their teddies the way they liked or you knew they wouldn’t sleep.

It was now when you and Charles split up you alternated each night what girl you would get into bed. Tonight it was Charles job to but Sicily to bed and your job to put Indy to bed.

Charles had gotten Sicily into bed and tucked her in. They had chosen out a book to read for the night and Charles had sat on the bed next to her reading to her in a soft voice. 

“ The end”

“ no more papa more”

“ tomorrow night sweetie time for bed now, but first let’s say our good nights”

“ good-“ Lily went to start saying her good nights

“ how about we say it in French tonight Cherie” Charles encouraged

“ ok, bonne nuit étoiles, bonne nuit lune, bonne nuit maison, bonne nuit maman, bonne nuit papa, bonne nuit Indy ( goodnight stars, goodnight moon , goodnight house , goodnight mum , goodnight dad , goodnight Indy ) Sicily said her good nights

“ good job, ok night sweetie I’ll see you in the morning “ Charles stood up putting the book back on the bookshelf kissing her head and leaving the room shutting the door.

At the same time you were coming out of Indy’s room shutting the door as well.

“ both asleep huh “ he asked

“ yep “ you replied

“How is this how we are spending our Saturday night?” Charles asked

“Yeah but you know you love it “ you laughed 

Charles wrapped his arm around your waist as you both walked down stairs to watch Tv and snuggle on the couch before going to bed yourself.

———————————————————————

Thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed feel free to leave any comments. Or leave any requests in my request box. Xx

[hunnylagoon]

The Killing Moon

PT2 The Colour Wars

Ellie Williams x Reader

It’s the perfect night for mystery and horror. The night itself is filled with monsters.

Premise: Summer camp feels a little different. Could it be newfound feelings for your friend or creatures beyond the imagination stalking you? Either way, it’s time to win the Colour Wars.

Warnings: Raunchy humour / mentions of cryptids / creepy?

PART ONE: Camp Spirit

Hope everything is alright with you because I'm so stressed that I may be spiralling into insanity at any moment. I understand that I'm an adult now but I too need someone to scream my frustration to until my lungs burn and I'm light-headed. "Hey, I'm having like super bad cramps and my flow is super heavy so I can't play this game."

I look at the girl in front of me, she's around fourteen if I had to guess and has two blonde French braids. We were in the middle of the first game of colour wars -the treasure hunt- and this girl was sporting a blue shirt, I didn't know her face nor was she on my team and I hadn't even noticed that she had been tagging along with my group for ten minutes. "Who are you?"

"Laila."

"Why are you here?" I ask but Laila only answers me with a shrug and a sneer "Never mind, I'm not your counsellor and I don't care, go to the nurses."

"Can I go to the nurses too?" Olive peeps up behind me "I think I have a scrape on my knee.":

"Don't we all?" I look back at her "We gotta win this game, we're so close," We were, mostly because every time the blue team gathered treasure I would send out feral kids to ambush them and bring it back to me "We're gonna have all the treasure we can carry." The objective was simple; The directors hid treasure (Cheap jewelry, hats, clothes from the old theatre program, etc.) across campgrounds and we had to source it out, whichever team came back to the sports field with more treasure won.

"We've been out here for hours," Morgan groaned, you'd think that these girls had been sent to war with the way they complained.

"It's only been forty-six minutes."

Olive took a seat on a rock, Leah doing the same, it didn't take long for each girl to have firmly planted themselves on the ground and refuse to get up. Valentina grabbed a stick and began to scratch drawings into the muddy ground.

"C'mon guys, there's like fifteen minutes left, and I know for a fact that there is still treasure to be found." I know how ridiculous I must've looked at that moment, I had been wearing a purple 'royal cape' that was pilling onto my T-shirt and a cheap dollar store crown that kept slipping off my head.

"I'm so bored," Chloe drew out.

"Because you're being boring!" I exasperate. Never had I ever had a cabin that was so apathetic and unenthusiastic, they were a stark contrast to last year when everyone had sunshine running through their veins and mud smeared across their faces; those pitch black summer nights live in my bones.

"This isn't fun, can we play something else?" 

"No," I take a deep breath out, composing myself "You are at summer camp to be outdoors, you're developing important social, cognitive and emotional skills."

I'm met with blank stares from each and every girl sitting below me "I don't know what that means," Leslie said.

"It means we're going through puberty," Kim tells her.

"No," My eyes go wide "No, it means that you're figuring out who you are."

"Am I gonna get my period soon?" Valentina drops the stick from her tiny hands. 

"Maybe- I don't know," I thew my hands out. 

"What's a period?"

"It's where you bleed until you don't have any blood left and then you die," Kim says this so matter-of-factly like she has a degree in healthcare and has been teaching the health unit in PE for a decade.

"WHAT?" Chloe jumps up from her spot on the ground, looking around to see if she's already bleeding out.

"We're gonna die and you didn't tell us?" Leslie looks even more terrified than she did on the night of the camp legend.

Every girl was beginning to panic, fear was clear across their small faces. It's moments like these where I wish I was alone, maybe solo camping or back in my bedroom from high school, somewhere where only the moon knows how I rot and the sun knows how I yearn.

"Guys, calm down, a period isn't a bad thing and it won't hurt you," This was my attempt to soothe the ten-year-old girls who were contemplating how they would spend their last days on earth. The plastic crown slips off my head and I reach down to grab it and readjust it.

"Then why is it called a period if it doesn't end your life?" Kim asks, crossing her arms.

"I don't know but it doesn't end your life-

"Can we just go back to the soccer field until this game is over?" Tamar chimes in, looking like she rather be staring at cardboard boxes. 

"Fine!" I finally gave in, gathering all of the treasure that once sat at my feet into my arms. The amount of treasure was almost overflowing, I had stolen a bunch from some kids in Dean's cabin who were too scared to argue with me. 

"Am I going to die?" Leslie scurries up beside me and I look down at her, behind the thick lenses of her classes, she is holding back tears.

"Not for a very long time," I can hardly bend my neck to look at her with the amount of shit I'm hauling, the girls being little to no help with this. The girls trail behind me and I have to turn my entire body to look at them "If anyone runs off this time, I'm feeding them to the snatchers."

Suddenly they want to listen. The woods aren't scary in the day, just at night when they begin to whisper. As of now, I know the quickest way to every part of camp despite the identical trees so thick that you can hardly see the sky when you're beneath them. 

Leslie holds onto the bottom of my red Colour Wars T-shirt since my hands are full, Valentina holds onto Leslie's hand and all of a sudden I've become a mother hen with little chicks following me around. 

"If magic isn't real then why were people so scared of witches," Valentina asks me while she kicks a rock across matted fallen leaves and dirt. 

"Maybe magic is real," I say "To burn a witch is to admit magic exists."

"How do I become a witch?" Chloe appears out of what seems to be thin air on my other side, I can't see her since my pile of goodies is up to my chin and I'm afraid that if I move all of it will come tumbling down.

"Practice magic," That was my guess, I didn't know squat about witchcraft.

"How do I do that?"

"A real witch will figure it out herself," I say. When you've worked with kids for five years, you get to a certain point where you run out of creative answers. During my first year working here, I was sixteen and a CIT, terribly afraid to mess up because I hadn't lived yet. With each passing year that I've come back, I get more and more comfortable, returning to familiar faces and the smell of petrichor.

Chloe nods excessively like I've just said something extremely profound, I can see the gears turning in her head like she's already thinking of spells to cast. 

It takes a little less than five minutes until we're out of the woods, we emerge by the crafts cabin, the soccer field is in clear sight. The soccer field is built over a little mound, slightly elevated from the ground and on top I can see two piles of knick knacks and a pretty big sum of campers and counsellors alike waiting on the top. 

From the looks of it Tommy and Joel have already begun to count their respective teams mound of treasure, Tommy being on the amazing red team and Joel representing the awful/disgusting/foul/boring/untalented blue team. That might've been a stretch but there were no friends in the Colour Wars.

In what seems to be the blink of an eye a hoard of kids runs past me and my girls, nearly knocking me off my feet. I didn't even process that some boys with too much energy had stolen plyed my well earned (stolen) treasure from my arms leaving me with nothing but my cape and crown until Liza, a girl from the Grizzly cabin snatched the cape right off my back and none other than Ellie herself grabbing the crown off my head.

They were booking it to the soccer field "Go get our shit back!" I yelled ushering my girls to go after the kids who were at least three years older than them. Only two of them actually listened; despite how hard they were trying, Leslie and Chloe's stumpy legs couldn't take them very far, leaving me to be the only one in pursuit.

I summoned back all of my memory from playing rugby in highschool and jumped on Ellie's back, I didn't take her down but she stumbled. I was so desperate to not turn up empty handed. By the time I made contact with her, she had already thrown the crown ahead for Liza to catch. They ran up the soccer field, dumping the double stolen treasure into their hula hoop. Even visually they were in the lead now, thanks to my expert piracy skills and theirs too, I guess.

"I hate you," I slid off Ellie's back, my sneakers hitting the dusty ground. "My girls earned that fair and square."

She looks me up and down, bathing in my anger like some kind of prize "I know you stole it."

"How?"

"Because I know you."

"Oh yeah?" I cross my arms, taking a step closer to my friend "Do you know how I'm gonna kick your ass later?"

She grins "I look forward to it." Ellie leaves me with this while she walks up to the soccer field to revel with her team in their newfound victory.

"What does 'kick your ass' mean?" Olive padded up behind me along with the rest of the girls, except for Leslie who was bent over, one hand on her knee to support her while she clung to her inhaler for dear life. "Are you gonna beat Ellie up?"

"I think she means 'kiss her ass'." Kim said, turning her head to look at Olive "Like they're gonna have sex later."

"What's sex?" Chloe furrowed her eyebrows.

"Kim you need to stop talking," I tell them, hands on my hips, nothing but frustration etched into the forefront of my brain. I glance back at Ellie as Maria rings the bell to signal that the game was over. Softly, with hands gentle as rain, I will wrap my hands around her neck and strangle her.

"Listen up!" I announced to the eight girls in my cabin. To absolutely no surprise, blue won the treasure hunt, now we were setting up for a water balloon fight in the allotted section of woods that Joel taped off in bright pink flagging tape. "I physically and mentally cannot handle another loss, I will be very disappointed in each and every one of you if we don't win-

"That's not true," Daniel cuts me off "The point of today is to have fun, winning doesn't matter, just do your best." The both of us are standing tall on a rock while the campers sit around and stare up at the two of us like we had been mighty gods preparing to throw wine and bread at their little feet.

I eye Daniel from the side and look back to everyone "None of your hard work is going to matter unless you win so do you want to be a whiney loser like Daniel or be cool like me and win the colour wars?"

Everyone fell quiet for a moment as if a curse of silence fell upon us until Kim not-so-sublty yelled "Daniel's a pussy!" I was beyond the point where I cared about the girls cussing, the only thing on my mind was showing my very dear friend, Ellie how awful her team is and rub my win in her beautiful face.

"That's what I like to hear!" I smile "Now let's go win this!"

My girls erupt in cheers and Daniel almost shamefully steps off the rock. I had finally made a breakthrough with my cabin after slightly snapping at them after Maria announced that the red team lost. Maybe the treasure hunt wasn't my thing, but water balloon wars? I had won that every single year, even when I was still a camper. 

The objective was easy, be the last team with players, once you get hit you're out. Friendly fire is strictly against the rules as well as headshots, they had to be hit in the torso, once you get wet, you're out and have to leave the allotted zone to watch. 

We played in a patch of forest that was less dense than the rest, making it easier to run around. 

"Three!" Maria shouted, "Two!" She's standing in the middle of the zone, so everyone can hear her though no one can see her since the two teams are on opposite ends to make it fair. "One!" She blows her whistle and kids are already dunking their hands into buckets of icy-cold water balloons and setting off to the enemy end.

The CITs were responsible for keeping a consistent flow of water balloons and buckets spread evenly in the zone, I remember when I was a CIT and had to miss out on capture the flag to pick up every bit of balloon that at splattered across the ground. 

I had a balloon in each hand, making my way around the perimeter discreetly. I lock eyes with a younger boy in a blue shirt, he immediately turns to run, not fast enough though "Come back here ankle biter!" I yell, decking a water balloon at him, it hits him right in his back.

There was a boy in Sawyers's cabin, one of the wild ones with animal teeth that ran off of energy drinks and the huff of Sharpies. He tried to throw a balloon at me but it missed me by a landslide, his second attempt wasn't much better.

I however nailed him in the chest "You're out buddy!" I smiled, and he met this by giving me the middle finger. "Whatever carrot top, tell Sawyer I send word!"

I was way too good at this game. Every year I thought I could take on the other team single-handedly and every year I'm proven right when I'm the last one standing. After a prompt reminder from Joel that this was supposed to be fun for the campers and I was treating it like World War Three, I had to cool down a little bit.

We played this game straight after lunch so everyone was either hopped up with energy or sluggish from eating too much, alternatively, there was Ashlynn. She was wandering around, a black bleach-stained hoodie thrown over the top of the shirt for whatever team she was on.

Ashlynn had a can of Diet Coke in hand, where did she get it? I'm not too sure, my guess is that she stashed them under her bunk. "Hey," She sits on a log beneath the tree I was hiding behind. "You're way better at this than you should be, you know you're playing against children, right?"

"I didn't come here to fuck around," There weren't a whole lot of people left in the game, I just took out Abby and the only counsellor left on the blue team was Ellie, maybe Ashlynn but she didn't pose a threat in any way shape or form. 

"Do you have any nic on you?" She looked up at me, taking a sip from her diet coke, her shaggy bleached hair was one more dye away from being fried.

"No?" I furrow my eyebrows "I don't usually bring nicotine to a summer camp full of children."

Ashlynn almost looks like she's hungover but then again she usually seems that way "I brought a couple joints and I'm like ninety percent sure two got stolen."

My eyes widen "You brought joints? Ash, you're getting fired if Maria finds out."

She shrugs "I don't mind, I either smoke weed here or I smoke weed in my backyard." 

"Okay but if it actually got stolen then it's probably some little shit that has it, they're gonna say that you gave it to them and that's a whole case."

"It's legalized though."

"Yeah, not for children." I was taken away from the game until I saw the smallest bit of a blue shirt beneath Ashlynn's sweater, I didn't hesitate to drop a balloon on her. She doesn't seem to mind and from this reaction, I'm beginning to think she's the one who smoked those missing joints. 

I come out from behind the tree empty-handed and plant a kiss on her forehead as an apology for getting soaking wet "Love you, Ash, hope you find your weed." I tell her before jogging off. Ashlynn doesn't get up to join everyone else outside of the boundary, she just stays on the log and drinks her diet coke.

Dina is still in the game on my team as well as a few campers, I hear her voice yelling at children somewhere off in the distance. Sadly, the girls in my cabin were picked off almost immediately, I swear I will avenge their little souls.

"You're soaking Conner, get out of here," Dina scolded a kid on the blue team "You gotta play by the rules, so beat it shrimp."

"Nuh-uh," He said. Lord knows I hated this kid, last summer when I went to the bathroom during dinner Conner stole my food and denied it even though he was the only one in the mess hall with two plates, he then kicked me in the shins and waddled away.

"You gotta go, baby hippo," I tell him, his round cheeks are bright red from running and he's short-breathed. He shakes his head and with a final stern look from both Dina and I, he leaves. "Nice, who's left?"

"One camper on our team and just Ellie over there," She tells me "Like best case scenario, just go over there and seduce Ellie."

I raise an eyebrow "Nah, I'm winning with brute strength and incredible strategy."

"I'm guessing that going for the little kids first is your definition of incredible strategy?"

"Yup," I say, walking to a bucket to grab another balloon "Get ready, this could go south."

"God forbid we tragically lose our lives in a water balloon war," Sarcasm drips from her tone even though she grabs another balloon.

"I know, that would be awful," I say with full seriousness.

Dina is struck with a water balloon out of nowhere "Shit," She mutters, looking at her now dripping shirt. I don't think I've ever reacted so quickly to anything in my life, I throw a balloon at Ellie and it barely hits her, but it still does.

"Look, you're wet," I smile, brighter than I had this whole summer "You're wet, you lost!" I'm almost jumping around, I'm so unreasonably happy at such a stupid thing. "I won!" I yell trying to capture the attention of the CITs so my win could go on record. 

"Fuck yeah!" Dina gives me a high five then looks at Ellie "You lost!"

"You lost," I say in a sing-song voice "Red team wins," I grab Dina's hand and raise to the sky like she's just won a wrestling match "We win, you're all wet!"

"You're wet too, D," Ellie says.

"Yeah, but you lost!" Dina wraps me in a hug around my torso, pinning my arms down and shaking me back and forth.

"Ew, get off," I can't help myself from laughing "But seriously I won, put that on record."

"Wow they have their worst player guarding the flag," I say, we were nearing dinner now and everyone was getting tired out, not me though, I had a war to win. Capture the Flag was the last game and that game is my shit, I know I said that about every other game but I really mean it this time. 

"I always forget that you're way too into this," Ellie says, she's unmoving in front of the blue team flag, pole stuck into the ground. 

"Ellie, you need to let me win," I say "Or I will do unspeakable things to you."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" She teases.

"Whichever you want," I almost surprised myself by saying this but it just slipped from my mouth like wax off the wings of Icarus. Behind me, I feel a harsh slap on my back and swiftly turn around to see a pudgy kid with a huge smile on his face. 

"You have to go to jail," Conner says and if he wasn't a child who stood at 4'3 I probably would've hit him.

"Yeah, I know, Conner," I glance at Ellie who is biting back a laugh and gives an obnoxious little wave as Conner drags me by the hand towards the jail. He waddles along, clinging to two of my fingers, his hands are greasy and slippery, whatever reason, I'm not sure I want to know.

He takes me to a rope circle laid out on the ground, there's already a handful of people on my team in it. Conner drops me off there, sticking his tongue out before scurrying away as fast as he could (Which wasn't very fast). There's one blue team guard, I recognized him from Jesse's cabin. 

I'm far too bitter for someone playing a harmless camp game, I hold a grudge easier than I hold someone's hand. "Why are you here?" A boy from Miles cabin asks.

"Because I got tagged, Emmet," I say, agitated. "Why are you here? Because you can't outrun an eight-year-old?"

His smile drops "Yeah," He looks down at his shoes, kicking some dirt. 

"How are we supposed to get out and win this?" Another boy asks.

"Jesus," I mutter "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Fifteen and you've never played Capture the Flag?"

He nods his head "I mostly play COD and Fortnite."

"Oh my god," I run my hands down my face, fighting the urge to gag "Someone from our team who isn't tagged has to tag us, they can only tag one person at a time and we get a free walk back to our side if we're tagged, to win the game you need to capture the other teams flag- you know what, I feel like this is pretty self-explanatory."

"So who's going to tag us?"

"Probably no one because a kid with Fortnite skills isn't really worth saving" I answer and he falls quiet. Harsh? yes. Necessary? No, but I was annoyed.

"Hey, Crawford," A voice says, she's standing a few yards back with one of her friends giggling.

"Oh, hey," The guy guarding us, coughs, deepening his voice "What's up."

"I can't believe you're actually playing this game," The girl sniggers.

"Nah, I'm just waiting for Lucas," He lies.

"Find him later, come hang out," She smiles at him.

Crawford looks from us to her, and with little to no hesitation, he goes with the girls. Once I see their figures retreat beyond the trees, I look around to see if there are any more people on the blue team around before stepping out of the rope circle.

"I thought you said we had to get tagged by someone else before we could leave," The boy says, looking around nervously as if he was buying pot in an alley.

"Are you a narc?" I ask.

"No?"

"Then we're good to go," I say, ushering my team out of the circle. The sun has just begun to set, casting an orange hue over everything and making it look like it had been touched by Midas. While the rest of my team runs back to our side where they are safe from being tagged, I have something else on my mind, Ellie Williams. 

I began to retrace my steps back to where Ellie waited with the flag and where I'm sure a bunch of overeager kids were patrolling to protect the priceless flag from the claws of the evil red team.  Ellie was never into these games until I was, the second I had the urge to win something, she was compelled to beat me.

Someone hadn't been looking where they were sprinting when they crashed into me at full speed, they would've knocked me down if they weren't the same height as an Oompa Loompa. She let out an 'Oof' while she fell to the ground "Chloe?"

"Hi," She looks up at me, and quickly the posse rolls around. All of the girls in my cabin, even Tamar and Morgan were actively participating.

Leslie ran up to me and hugged me around my legs "Hi, girls," I said with furrowed eyebrows. The past two weeks I had struggled to even get them to collectively go to breakfast without putting up a fight because they didn't want to. "How's the game going?"

"We know where the flag is!" Valentina peeps up, she has mud smeared under her eyes like war paint. 

"Yeah, but Ellie's there and I'm scared of her," Leah mentions.

"Well, we're all together now so we can strategize," A smile cracks onto my face.

"We should put a scorpion in her hair," Kim has a wild grin on her tanned face, her honey-blonde hair is tangled into a rat nest, with a couple of leaves in there.

"No, good idea though, we'll save that one for later," I point at Kim "I was thinking that I could distract Ellie while half of you keep the other guards away and the other half grabs the flag and makes a break for it."

Kim nods enthusiastically, Tamar doesn't seem thrilled by the idea but she doesn't object to it so I take her silence as a win. This is the exact moment I put on my invisible captain hat, giving each of my girls a specific role with the promise I would sneak them candy on Saturday if they pulled this off. 

With each passing minute, the sky got darker and darker, I wanted to finish this game until Joel and Tommy made the counsellors walk around with headlamps on to keep an eye on everyone. "Hi, El."

"What do you want?" She's been standing in the same spot for a little over an hour, her vexation was shining through in her tone. 

"To be done with this game," I say, prepping myself for the little heist "This is really dragging on and- I saw Crawford run off with some girls from your cabin."

"Who the hell is Crawford?" She furrows her eyebrows.

"One of Jesse's boys, I know it's an unfortunate name."

"Who did he leave with?"

"Uh," I rack my brain for their names "Cindy and the rude one."

She nods, immediately knowing who I was talking about from my vague description "So, when are you gonna run past me and steal the flag?"

"What?" I acted like her question was incredulous "Why would you think that's what I'm trying to do?" I'm so bad at acting, I'm behaving like one of those wasted middle-aged men who get pulled over on the freeway and pretend that they're stone-cold sober by making a bunch of hand gestures while they talk.

"You're awful at acting," She says, crossing her arms, I watch the veins tense in her forearm below her tattoo sleeve.

"Fuck," I muttered "Fine, I give up," I plop myself on the ground, my spine against the trunk of a tree, I look up at Ellie "Okay, I'm officially over these games."

She raises an eyebrow and I can tell that she doesn't believe me. "First of all, you're sitting in mud. Second of all, eleven years of bloodshed and you're giving up out of nowhere?"

"It's not out of nowhere, I'm just getting older," I say the second half a little quieter "I'm in college I need to stop acting immature."

We both fall silent, she doesn't know what to say to this. Ellie usually wasn't the best at comforting me in whichever situation, I remember back when I was fourteen and a wreck because my first dog died and all she could do was give me a hug and ask if I wanted water. 

"You’re not immature," Ellie says, unsure of what to do.

"Alrighty," I press my lips together in a thin line, equally diffident. "I'm just bored of this, it's gotten kind of repetitive."

"Then what do you wanna do?" She asks, in this light she's dimly illuminated by the setting sun. She looks like a sculpture carved from honey.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll do whatever you want," I smile.

"Are you trying to flirt with me?"

"Is it working?"

"Not entirely," She says, behind her, there's a snap and just before she turns around I call her attention back to me. I saw Valentina, Chloe, and Olive emerging from behind trees, just seconds away from victory.

"Okay," I chuckle "Help me up?"

Ellie regards me for a second before taking my hand stretched wide. The second her hand clasps in mine I pull her down with all of my might and believe me when I say this is no easy feat, Ellie was sturdy. Luckily I caught her off guard and managed to pin her beneath me, I straddle over her torso, gesturing for the girls to run.

"Go!" I whisper-shout so others on the blue team can't hear me. Ellie grabs me by the waist and uses momentum to flip me over, now I'm the one with my back in the mud and she sits overtop of me. 

She had been so close that our lips brushed, and I had felt my heart stop, I almost didn't want to move just to see what would happen next but in utter panic, I reached next to me, a handful of mud and smeared it down Ellie's face. "You're so gross," She squeezes her eyes shut, leans back and begins to scoop mud off her face, I use this as my opportunity to wriggle out from beneath her.

It takes me a minute to get off my knees and onto my feet, by this point, almost the entirety of my legs are covered in mud, leaves, sticks, and probably bugs. I try to take off but my sneakers betray me and I fall face-first into the mud.

Of course, Ellie sees this and she's laughing so hard she needs to support herself, one forearm against a tree while her other is clutching her stomach. I scoop up more mud, almost squirming in distaste from the sensation of it caked beneath my nails but I still throw it at Ellie with perfect accuracy. 

She tenses up when I do this. Once again I struggle to my feet but this time I am victorious, I stay frozen in place for a moment to be sure I won't face plant again. When I'm sure that I won't fall, I bend down to throw another mud pie at Ellie for good measure than I'm off to see if my girls completed the mission.

When I finally got back to my side I saw my team already celebrating "Woohoo!" I yell and the crowd immediately falls quiet, regarding my current state. I probably look like a creature who's just crawled out of a stagnant swamp. 

"Why does she look like that?" Ashlynn whispers to Bowie who doesn't respond and from his red eyes alone, I know the reason why.

"C'mon girls," I smile "Bring it in!" I open my arms for my cabin to come in for a hug but they just back away from me with wrinkled noses. 

Tommy looks at me "Why are you dirty?" I knew he was getting sassy when he propped his hands on his hips "What happened in the ten-minute gap since I last saw you that has made you so filthy?" It wasn't malice in his voice but genuine curiosity, Tommy was a fun-loving guy for the most part.

I shrugged "I wouldn't know, mate, you tell me." His eyebrows furrowed as his confusion delved even deeper. He looked into my soul from across the clearing. Eventually, Ellie makes her way to join me, she's a little better off than I am though she's still grimy.

"Oh, great, you too," Tommy says, gesturing to his niece. 

Joel lets out a deep sigh "You two better shower before dinner."

I let the hot water run over my body, dripping down and consuming me whole. Ellie and I are the only ones in the showers, we're separated by nothing more than a divider though the steam is so heavy I wouldn't have been able to see her regardless. 

Since we were sent to grab a change of clothes and clean off Ellie had been almost silent, she wasn't even teasing me back or making a punchline when I had thrown out an obvious setup. 

After thoroughly washing the grime off of my body I turned the shower off, walking over the laminated bench where Ellie and I had out put our clothing only to find them missing. For a minute I thought I was crazy and had misplaced them but after awkwardly pattering around the shower house, I realised they were gone.

"Hey, Ellie," I say on the other side of her shower stall "Someone stole our clothes."

"You're hilarious," She deadpanned, not an ounce of amusement in her tone.

"Yeah, I know but I'm not joking."

I hear the water turn off in her stall, she pokes her head out and looks at the bench "Where did you put them?"

"I didn't put them anywhere," I say, in an attempt to sound convincing. "Someone took our shit," All that was left behind we're Ellie's Converse, knocked onto the ground and my carabiner with keys, a flashlight, and my shark keychain. 

"Fuck," Ellie mutters and looks around for a moment before her eyes land on me and she quickly averts her gaze, "Can you turn around?"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before."

"I hate you."

"I hate you too." I tell her though I do turn around "What's the plan here?"

"I'm looking."

"I already did, dumbass."

"Thoroughly." She adds.

I stare at empty shower stalls and white tile walls while Ellie checks every single spot that I already have. I can hear only her and the plop of dribbles of water splattering against the cold ground. The steam is still heavy and easy on my sharp lungs.

"I can't find them," Ellie says at last. "But I did find some clothes that look like they could've belonged to Adam Sandler.”

"Yeah, no shit," I turn around and see her standing there completely nude, she moves quickly out of my eye line and into a stall "You've changed in front of me a million times, what's different now?" I say, nonchalantly, walking past her.

"Maybe I don't want you to see me buck naked."

"I think I just heard something," I stop in my tracks.

 "not really the time-

"Why do you always think I'm fucking with you?" I ask, furrowed eyebrows.

"Because-

"Shh," I hush her trying to listen for the sound. I walked toward the entrance of the shower house there was a large wall in front of the door so no one could open the door to peek in, they had to go around the wall and properly enter, the same way most locker rooms were set up. I'm about ten yards away from the entrance when I see a figure poke their head out, just a quarter of its face, I can see their amber eye. They spot me in almost a split second and jet out in a blur, I hear the door open and crashing shut, their feet scrambling away. Just like that, I felt my blood run cold. 

"Fuck!" I yell, scuttling back towards the stalls "Ellie, there's fucking someone in here!" My heart is beating faster than I think it ever has before and I almost feel sick with the thought that someone was in here the entire time Ellie and I had been vulnerable and unaware. 

"What?" She steps out of the stall and looks around before she sees me. I'm on the floor, my knees to my chest and eyes wide. "You saw someone?"

"Yes!" I say throwing a hand out to gesture to the divider "They were hiding behind there and fucking watching us!"

"Shit," She says, walking towards the wall and looking behind it, she freezes too. Ellie turns towards me and the doubt on her face is gone "We need to find some clothes and get out of here."

"What?" I say "Did you see something?"

Ellie begins to open every single locker, tossing articles of clothing that people left behind on the ground. She wasn't exaggerating earlier when she said she found clothes that could've belonged to Adam Sandler. No wonder they were left behind.

"What was it?" I press again.

"Just some mud tracks, they were probably ours," She dismisses. "Now get dressed."

This doesn't ease me in the slightest, I'm so on edge that I haven't made a joke about Ellie and I casually being naked in front of each other. How ridiculous the pair of us looked didn't aid me in calming down; Ellie was wearing a black T-shirt about three sizes too large that read 'Ask me about my IBS' with a caricature of a man-eating cheese beneath it, this was paired with blue basketball shorts that had two white stripes running down the side. "How's your IBS?" I tease.

"It's a constant battle." At least she had her shoes, I had to wear flip-flops that hardly fit, so small I almost thought they belonged to a Barbie. While Ellie was moderately comfortable, I was not, I had to wear skinny jeans that were crudely cut into Bermuda shorts, matched with none other than an American flag tank top, how patriotic. 

"I'm almost thinking it would be better to go out in nothing," I say, looking at myself in the mirror. I glance over at Ellie, I know she's trying to play it off but I can tell she's shaken.  "You look so stupid."

"Damn," She says "I was just trying to show my support for those with IBS," Ellie jokes, trying to ease the tension.

The both of us are procrastinating on leaving the perceived safety of the shower house. I feel dread emanating from the woods, we will no longer be surrounded by four walls and engulfed by bright light. As we walk towards the entrance I reach for Ellie's hand, intertwining our fingers. "So we're going straight to the mess hall?"

"Yup," She says, giving my hand a little squeeze, it's her way of saying 'I got you'. I wonder if she can sense the panic pulsing through me or distress pumping in my veins. At the door I saw the tracks Ellie was staring at, they hadn't been ours. We walked in with muddy sneakers, these were barefoot prints, and whoever they belonged to had walked in many circles. I'm sick to my stomach once again, fighting the natural urge to vomit until I cry and my parents come to comfort me.

I click my flashlight on, but nothing lays ahead but forest and a beaten path. We stepped out into the darkness, it wasn't a far walk to the mess hall where everyone was gathered but that didn't stop my heart from racing like a rabbit moments away from getting snagged by a terrifying beast. 

My heartbeat slowed the further we walked, so far we hadn't been kidnapped by a pervert. I take a deep breath, trying to push overtly dark thoughts to the back of my mind, next to me Ellie is calm as a marble statue bathed beneath moonlight.

Each breeze makes me shudder despite the humid weather. Suddenly, regarding my current situation, the summer camp doesn't feel like home anymore. It feels like those abandoned houses up the road that my parents had carefully trained me to stay away from. The rustle of leaves is reminiscent of the laugh that belonged to creepy men who used to watch children at the park who didn't belong to them. 

I'm no longer met with the fresh scent of pine but something ancient, something rotted like it's been sitting in the back of the fridge for a decade. It reeks of shit to the point where I'm gagging on nothing like little hands of wind pushing on the back of my throat. 

My hand grows sweaty clasped to Ellie's though she shows no indication of being bothered by this. I hear a rustle somewhere around, whether it's in the trees or the bushes I'm unsure, instinctivly, I freeze. I look around, the gleam from my flashlight gliding across the flora, searching for something that likely isn't there.

"It's okay," Ellie says, her voice tender as a lullaby  "We're fine," She pulls gently on my hand to keep us going but I'm stuck in place. My flashlight is frozen on the body of a rabbit, Its white fur soaked through with red. I break my hand free from Ellie's grip and clasp it over my dry lips to choke down a cry. The entire skin of the rabbit's torso had been torn off on one side from the spine to the stomach, you could see its brown organs, the still beating heart, and everything that made it function was pooling out of it. If it hadn't been for its little head, beady eyes full of fear and perked-up ears, I wouldn't have known it was a rabbit at all. Whatever mauled it did a messy job that it hadn't quite finished like a dull axe to the back of the head. 

Behind the trees, I hear slurping, something wet and hungry. It wretches on what I assume to either be its newest feast or its saliva. It devours every last breath it has, the breathing is shallow and gruff like it's eating so fast it's choking on its meal, though it takes the time to slurp and swallow the remnants of whatever it's chowing down on. I see a pair of golden eyes glint behind a shrub in the cast of my light.

I reach for Ellie's hand again and run like I've never run before. She quickly takes the lead, so fast that she's nearly dragging me along. We don't speak but we understand each other clearly, we need to move. 

Trailing us, I hear heavy steps beating against the dirt pathway. I don't even need to look back to know that it's following u, its heavy, wet breathing is clue enough. I'm starting to feel a burning in my lungs, saliva builds in my mouth and I spit it down onto the pathway, heaving with every quick-paced step.

One of my too-tight pink flip-flops catches a rock stuck in the path and sends me tumbling to the ground. For just a moment I see a pitch-black figure wearing tattered clothing with amber eyes that glow light street lamps gaining on us; I could've sworn it had human hands and feet but I wasn't in my right mind, it's still enough to send adrenaline coursing through my veins. Without even stopping, Ellie pulls me back up and I kick off my other sandal, running barefoot on the trail.

My feet hammer against the dirt, rocks, and pebbles. I can feel the souls of my feet getting sliced and torn though I don't slow down, the sight of the mess hall in the distance makes me run even faster. 

"Hey!" Ellie yells, trying to capture the attention of someone in the mess hall. Her grip on my hand doesn't loosen, in fact, it gets tighter as she pulls me along. I don't know if whatever was chasing us is still there but I'm too mortified to check. 

I wave with my hand clutching my carabiner but it does nothing to garner any kind of attention within the mess hall. Our feet moving faster than we could form thoughts we ran towards the entrance. 

Ellie pulls the door wide open and pushes me in before slamming the door shut behind us. The very second my heaving body hits the floor, everyone's attention falls on us.

"Woah," Miles regards us with confusion before it morphs into a smile on his face "Did you guys just have sex?" He takes a bite of his sandwich, he looks like he got into Ashlynn's stash.

"Why do you look like Adam Sandler and Hilary Duff?" Dina furrowed her eyebrows next to Jesse, he looked like he was trying to work together some type of conclusion for why we were breathing so deeply and why my feet were bleeding. 

I look at Ellie and she meets my gaze, she no longer looks calm. There's a sense of dread written clearly across her features, that thing didn't seem animal, it didn't seem human either and I wasn't sure which was worse, the echo or the answer.  

A/N: Not much to say today but thanks for reading! Love you all.

TAGLIST: @wherearthepilots-blog @diddiqueen my tags are being so weird I’m so sorry if you weren’t tagged

[valkyriexo]

Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 5 -Draw me like one of your French girls

ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.

ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids

ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery

ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ;Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS;  Violence, Injuries, Blood, Pain, unconsciousness,

EPISODE WORD COUNT; 7.2K

AUTHOR'S NOTE ; a little Longer of a Chapter..

If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me. Remember, none of this is real. It is a story. It is fiction. You can choose not to read it if it will make you uncomfortable.

Master Post | Teaser | Suspect Cards

STOP. THIS EPISODE CONTAINS THE ANSWERS TO THE GAME. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO PLAY BEFORE CONTINUING CLICK HERE.

The first puzzle appeared on the screen, and you, Chan, and Seungmin leaned in closer, each trying to get a better look.

"Cross out six letters and you'll find a word that we should know, This must be done in order." Chan read aloud.

You furrowed your brow, your gaze fixed on the tangled mess of letters displayed before you. With a thoughtful expression, you began to mull over the puzzle's challenge. "Let's see... if we remove six letters, what word could it form?"

"Nothing? There's no combination of words just by taking out six," Chan remarked, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone.

Seungmin nodded, his gaze still on the screen. "They wouldn't have specified 'SIX' spelled out like that. If they meant the number, they would've just written the number 6. Right?"

You pondered the arrangement of letters. "What if the instruction 'six letters' is a hint itself?" you proposed.

Seungmin's eyes lit up in recognition, his expression mirroring yours. "That's it! If we take out the letters 's', 'i', 'x', 'l', 'e', 't', 't', 'e', 'r', 's', we're left with........'important'," he exclaimed, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.

Excitedly, you double-checked his deductions, your eyes scanning the letters on the screen once more. When you found that Seungmin was indeed correct, you wasted no time in entering "important" into the text box. With a satisfying flash of green, the puzzle was solved.

"Great catch, Minnie," you praised.

The next puzzle appeared on the screen. it seemed to be a series of numbers: 0,3,4,5,8. 

You furrowed your brow, trying to make sense of the sequence, but before you could even start, Chan spoke up confidently, "This one's easy. It's a simple code."

You looked at him, intrigued. Chan's mind raced as he analyzed the clues. "4 is on 5's right, but not directly next to it, so that means 4 can't be the last digit, and 5 can't be the first."

Seungmin and you nodded, following his train of thought.

"Also, 0 and 5 keep a maximum distance," Chan continued, his eyes scanning the screen. "So, they're likely at the ends of the code."

"The 3 is between the two numbers that usually follow it, which means its in between 4 and 5." you added, trying to piece together the sequence. Chan's brows furrowed in concentration. "And the two digits on the right add up to the same number as the two digits on the left."

With practiced precision, Chan arranged the digits according to the given criteria. "The code is 53480," he declared confidently.

With a few taps on the keyboard, Chan quickly deciphered the code. "53480 translates to 'clues'," he announced, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

You blinked in surprise, impressed by Chan's quick thinking. "That was amazing! How did you figure it out so fast?"

Chan shrugged modestly. "Just a knack for puzzles, I guess.... Let's enter 'clues' and see what happens."

Following Chan's lead, you entered "clues" into the text box, and sure enough, the screen flashed green, indicating that you had successfully cracked the code.

"Nice job, Chan!" Seungmin exclaimed, patting him on the back.

Chan's chest puffed out slightly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor. He shot you a sideways glance, a playful twinkle in his eye. Unable to resist, you leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Chan's cheeks flushed bright red, a mixture of surprise and delight spreading across his face.

The next puzzle appeared on the screen.

It wasn't a series of numbers or a cryptic code, but rather a poetic verse. You furrowed your brow, trying to make sense of the words.

"It seems like some sort of riddle or poem," you mused aloud.

Chan and Seungmin leaned in closer, reading the verse carefully. "But what does it mean?" Seungmin wondered.

"It feels like there's a hidden message here," Chan observed, his eyes scanning the lines intently.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of frustration at the puzzle's ambiguity. "Let's break it down. Maybe there's a clue hidden within it."

Together, you dissected the verse, searching for patterns or hidden meanings. But despite your efforts, the true significance of the poem remained a mystery.

"We're missing something," you sighed, feeling a twinge of disappointment. With each passing moment, the answer seemed to slip further from your grasp.

"Wait a minute..." You glanced back at the screen, your eyes scanning the verse once more.

And then, it clicked.

"It's an acrostic," you exclaimed, excitement bubbling up inside you. "The first letter of each line spells out a word!"

Chan and Seungmin looked at you, puzzled at first, but then their eyes widened in understanding.

"H-I-D-E-S," Seungmin spelled out, realization dawning on his face.

"Exactly," you confirmed. "The answer is 'hides.'"

With a sense of accomplishment, you entered "hides" into the text box, and the screen flashed green, confirming your correct solution.

As the final puzzle materialized on the screen, the room fell into a hushed silence. The string of seemingly random letters stared back at you, taunting in its indecipherability.

"Looks.... like we have another code to crack," Chan remarked, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

You nodded, your mind already racing to decipher the hidden message within the jumble of letters.

"Bnmfqzstzshnmr..." you murmured, your lips moving silently as you attempted to decode the message. You paused, then couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, that's certainly a word… in some alien language, perhaps."

But despite your best efforts, the letters seemed to resist your attempts to unlock their meaning, the message remaining stubbornly cryptic.

"This is harder than I thought," Chan admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. 

You nodded in agreement, feeling a pang of disappointment. "Let's take a step back and look at it again. There must be a clue we're missing."

Seungmin sighed loudly and then quipped, "You know, if we had a Scrabble board handy, I bet we could score some serious points with this."

For what felt like an eternity, you and your friends wrestled with the puzzle, trying different approaches and strategies to crack its code. But each attempt seemed to lead to dead ends, leaving you no closer to unraveling its mystery.

Chan leaned in closer, his expression thoughtful. "There has to be a way to form words from this," he mused, his mind already working on potential combinations.

Seungmin chimed in, "Yeah but we shuffled the letters around and tried different combinations, and nothing makes sense."

But Chan shook his head, a spark of insight in his eyes. "What if we're approaching this the wrong way? Maybe we're not supposed to rearrange the letters, but instead, they mean something else altogether."

His suggestion gave you pause, prompting you to reconsider your approach to the puzzle. As you sat hunched over the puzzle, your fingers absentmindedly traced the delicate patterns of the bracelet wrapped around your wrist.

The bracelet adorning your wrist was an intricate design a mesmerizing tapestry of silver and sapphire. Delicate silver links intertwined with precision, forming a lattice-like pattern that shimmered in the soft glow of ambient light. At the center of each link nestled a small sapphire, its deep blue hue reminiscent of the ocean at twilight.

As the minutes ticked by, the tension in the room grew.

"Wait a minute," you exclaimed, a memory sparking in your head.

"Fetch!"

"I know I'm a puppy but I don't really feel like running right now." seungmin whined taking a sip of water from a glass.

"No. Not you Seungmin.... Fetch." you said again.

Chan looked at you quizzically. "All these letters translate to the word 'fetch'?"

"No. No. Fetch. The show," you replied.

"The kids show?"

"Yes."

Chan and Seungmin looked at you, their eyebrows raised in disbelief at the unexpected reference. It was as if you had suddenly suggested decoding the message using a recipe for chocolate cake.

"What?" Seungmin said incredulously. "How does a kids' show have anything to do with cracking codes?"

" Well there was this spy episode where they talked about how spies would communicate with each other."

Chan and Seungmin looked at you, intrigued by the sudden recollection.

"They would encode their messages using a specific key or pattern, so that only other spies code read it. Both sides would have the key to the code," you continued, the pieces slowly falling into place in your mind.

It was as if a light bulb had gone off in their heads, illuminating a path forward in the puzzle.

"A cipher" Seungmin said.

As the wheels of your mind spun in search of a solution, Seungmin's eyes widened. "Wait a moment," he said, reaching for his phone. With a few swift taps, he brought up an image of a cipher wheel on the screen.

"Look at this," he exclaimed, displaying the intricate design of the wheel to the group. "If we shift each letter by one place according to the wheel, it might reveal the true message."

Hope ignited within you as you examined the image, the simplicity of the concept striking you as a potential breakthrough. "That's perfect," you said. "Let's give it a try."

With Seungmin's phone serving as a guide, you and your friends set to work, shifting each letter forward in the alphabet. As you made the adjustments, the seemingly random string of letters began to take on new meaning.

With the screen now displaying the deciphered message, excitement filled the room as you all read the words:

"Congratulations! If you can read this, you have figured out that it is a cipher! Aren't you smart. The word is Member.'"

A collective sigh of relief and accomplishment swept through the group.

Chan eagerly stepped forward, confidently entering the password "Member" into the screen.

With bated breath, you awaited the response. And to your joy, the screen flashed green, confirming the correctness of your input. Excitement filled the room as you all realized that you had successfully cracked the code.

"We did it!" Chan exclaimed, a broad smile stretching across his face.

Seungmin chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. "I can't believe we actually cracked it."

But then, a new prompt appeared on the screen: "To find the Password, take all the words and put them in the correct order."

You exchanged puzzled glances with your friends. Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you recalled each puzzle and the words associated with them: "important," "clues," "hides," and "Member."

With a mix of anticipation and caution, you entered the final code:

"Member hides important clues."

Anticipation hung thick in the air as you awaited the screen's response. Then, with a satisfying beep, the screen flashed green, indicating success.

The screen flickered for a moment, and then a new page loaded, revealing a chilling image accompanied by an address.

The image sent a shiver down your spine, its eerie composition and unsettling ambiance heightening your sense of unease. It depicted a dimly lit room, and in the center, a lone figure stood, their face obscured by darkness.

As you and your friends exchanged uneasy glances, the words below the image caught your attention.

"Come find me."

Beneath the message was an address, standing out against the ominous backdrop of the website. It beckoned you, and sent a chill down your spine.

What awaited you at the address?

Who had sent the messages, and why?

With your heart pounding in your chest, you knew that the journey was far from over. The address was a new clue, a new mystery waiting to be unraveled. And with determination burning within you, you knew that you had no choice but to heed the call and confront whatever awaited you at the designated location.

As the weight of the situation settled in, a tense silence enveloped the room. The address on the screen seemed to pulsate with a silent urgency.

You quickly pulled out your phone, fingers trembling as you typed the address into the search engine. The results were chilling—nothing but a desolate warehouse located on the outskirts of town, its exterior shrouded in darkness.

"Are we… are we actually going to go to that address?" you finally voiced the question that echoed in the minds of all three of you.

Chan's expression darkened with concern. "Absolutely not. This is not safe," he asserted firmly, his voice laced with urgency.

But despite his warning, a sense of determination welled up within you. The need to confront the source of the messages, to uncover the truth that had eluded you for so long, burned within your chest.

"I have to go," you declared, your voice resolute as you met Chan's gaze head-on. "I need to know who's behind this, and why they've been sending these messages."

Seungmin nodded in understanding, his expression mirroring your resolve. "You can't go alone," he stated firmly, his eyes meeting yours. "If your going, I'll go with you."

Chan's features hardened, his concern palpable. "No, absolutely not," he repeated, his voice stern. "I won't let you put yourselves in danger."

As Chan's insistence rang through the room, you felt a surge of frustration mingling with your determination. His concern was understandable, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were on the brink of uncovering something significant.

"Chan, I appreciate your concern, I really do," you began, your voice steady but with urgency. "But we can't just ignore this. We need to follow this lead, find out what's going on."

Chan's jaw tightened, his gaze unwavering. "I understand that you want answers, but this is too risky. We don't know what we're walking into," he argued.

"But we won't find out unless we go," Seungmin interjected. "And Y/N's right. We can't just sit back and let this mystery go unsolved."

The tension in the room escalated as Chan's frustration became palpable. His brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched as he struggled to contain his rising anger.

"Seungmin, this is not up for debate," Chan snapped, his tone sharp with frustration. "I said no, and no means no."

But you couldn't let his resolve deter you from your mission. The need to unravel the mystery gnawed at you, driving you forward despite the risks.

"Chan, please," you pleaded, your voice soft but insistent. "I understand your concerns, but we can't turn back now. We have to see this through."

Seungmin nodded in agreement, his expression unwavering. "We'll be careful, Chan. But we have to do this."

"We're not doing this," Chan declared firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You'd put yourselves in danger."

"But Chan, I'm already in danger," you countered. "Ignoring this won't make it go away."

For a moment, Chan's gaze softened, his features betraying a flicker of uncertainty. But then, with a heavy sigh, he shook his head, his resolve hardening once more.

"I can't let you do this," he stated firmly, his voice tinged with resignation. "I won't."

With a heavy sigh, Chan's frustration reached its peak. Without a word, he strode over to the computer, his movements tense and purposeful. With a swift motion, he slammed the laptop shut, cutting off the ominous glow of the screen.

With frustration boiling within you, you couldn't contain the anger that surged to the surface.

"Chan, you don't get it!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with agitation. "I'm tired of sitting back and waiting for things to happen. I need answers, and I'm not going to just let this slide."

But Chan remained unmoved, his expression stubborn and unyielding. "I understand that you're scared," he responded, his voice strained with frustration. "But rushing into this blindly is not the answer!"

"I've had enough of waiting and planning," you declared, your voice trembling with righteous anger. "I'm done playing it safe while someone out there is toying with me." His words only fueled your anger, igniting a fire within you that refused to be extinguished.

"I'm not asking for your permission," you continued sharply. "I'm going, with or without your support."

With resolve burning fiercely within you, you stormed away from Chan, determined to take matters into your own hands.

As you made your way to your room, frustration and determination mingled within you, fighting for dominance. With trembling fingers, you pulled out your phone and hastily composed a message to your bodyguard. Anger simmered beneath the surface, threatening to spill over as you fought back tears of frustration.

You told him to meet you at the house ASAP.

You hit send before second-guessing yourself, the urgency of the situation propelling you forward. As you waited for his response, the minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity, each passing second amplifying the tension that hung heavy in the air.

Finally, a notification chimed on your phone, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you read his response. "On my way," it read, accompanied by a reassuring emoji.

You hastily gathered the essentials: a flashlight, water, an extra phone battery pack, and anything else you thought might come in handy.

You hesitated, torn between your determination to move forward and the lingering sense of guilt at leaving Chan behind. But as he entered the room, you knew that you couldn't leave without at least attempting to persuade him to join you.

"Chan, I'm going whether you come with me or not," you stated firmly, your voice steady. "But I'd feel better knowing you're by my side."

Chan's gaze softened, his features etched with worry. "Y/N, this is dangerous," he protested, his voice pleading. "I can't let you go alone."

You took a step forward, closing the distance between you, and placed a hand on his arm. "Then don't," you urged, your voice gentle yet determined. "Come with me."

As Chan's hesitation lingered, his eyes searched yours for reassurance amidst the tense atmosphere of the room. You held your breath, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, hoping fervently that he would agree to accompany you.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, Chan nodded, his decision apparent in the reluctant tilt of his head. "Alright," he conceded, his voice carrying the weight of his reluctance. "But on one condition."

Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation coiling within you as you waited for him to speak.

"You stay by my side at all times. If I can't touch you, you're too far," Chan insisted. His hand reached out, gently grasping yours. "If things get too dangerous, we turn back. I'm not leaving there without you in one piece. You hear me?"

You nod, unable to form any words.

"Y/n.. If anything happens to you..." His words faltered, the weight of his love filling the air. It was as if every syllable carried the weight of his fears, his heart laid bare before you.

His voice trembled as he fought to express the depth of his feelings. He paused, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away. "I need you to understand, Y/N," he continued, "I love you more than anything in this world. I cant lose you.... Please."

With a solemn nod, you conveyed your understanding and acceptance of his words, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. "I love you too, Chan," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but carrying the weight of your sincerity.

Without a word, he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours.

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his lips against yours.

Just then, the sound of footsteps approaching broke the spell, and you turned to see your bodyguard leaning in the doorway.

Adam's muscular frame was outlined by the soft glow of the hallway lights. He wore a fitted black suit, the fabric stretched taut over his powerful physique, thanks to years of training and discipline. Despite the seriousness of the situation, you saw reassurance in his eyes, a silent promise to protect you with every ounce of his strength.

Adam, spoke, his deep voice resonated with a calm authority.

"Sorry to interrupt. Everything okay?" he inquired, as he took in the scene before him.

You and Chan exchanged a brief glance.

"We're heading out," you replied, your voice steady. "There's something we need to investigate."

Adam nodded, his expression serious but unchanging. "I'll be right behind you," he stated firmly, his commitment to your safety evident in every word.

As you turned to leave, you noticed Seungmin waiting nervously nearby.

"Seungmin, are you sure you want to come with us?" you asked. He nodded firmly, his eyes meeting yours.

With a grateful smile, you nodded in acknowledgment of his loyalty.

As the group prepared and gathered by the doorway, you filled in Adam on the details of what had happened.

"We need to consider who else we can trust," Adam suggested, his voice full of concern.

"I know it can't be Jeongin. He was with me when we first encountered the stalker an-"

Just then, there was a knock at the door, interrupting your conversation. You exchanged wary glances with the boys, none of you expecting any visitors at this late hour.

Felix stood on the doorstep, his brow furrowed in confusion as he took in the four faces staring back at him. "Did I leave my Switch here...." he asked, his voice trailing off. The dim light from the hallway cast shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of concern etched into his expression.

Felix's confusion deepened as he surveyed the group, dressed in dark clothing. His eyes darted from one person to another, searching for an explanation to the unexpected sight before him.

"Where are you all going?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise and apprehension. His gaze lingered, silently pleading for an answer. You exchanged a quick glance with Chan and Seungmin, unsure of how much to reveal to Felix. 

But before you could respond, Felix spoke, his expression turned serious. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but it's clear that something's not right," he stated, his voice firm but compassionate. "And whatever it is, I want to help."

His words caught you off guard. You knew that bringing Felix along would add an extra layer of risk to your already risky mission.

"It's okay, Felix. We'll be back soon," you say, trying to navigate past him, but he remains unmoved, his gaze fixed on the group with determination.

"Uh, it's not really a trip to the store, Felix," you began again cautiously, trying to find the right words without revealing too much.

Felix's brow furrowed in confusion, his expression betraying his growing curiosity. "Then where are you guys going?" he pressed. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, an impatient energy radiating from him.

Chan hesitated, clearly grappling with how much to disclose. "It's... it's a bit complicated," he replied vaguely, his words failing to mask the unease in his voice.

But Felix wasn't about to let it go. "Complicated how?" he persisted, taking a step closer to the group, his curiosity piqued.

You realized that avoiding Felix's questions would only make things more suspicious.

"Felix, it's not something we can really explain right now," you finally admitted reluctantly. "But trust us, it's not something you want to get involved in."

But Felix remained resolute. "I don't care," he asserted firmly. " I'm going."

You exchanged a helpless glance with Chan and Seungmin, realizing that Felix was determined to accompany you, regardless of the risks involved. With a heavy sigh, you nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Fine, but stay close," you insisted. "And follow our lead."

Felix nodded eagerly, his expression filled with determination. "Got it," he replied, his voice brimming with conviction. "Let's go."

With Felix now added to the group, you all piled into the car. Felix sat in the backseat, his bright yellow shirt standing out like a light against the darkness of the night.

"You're too bright," you remarked, handing him a black hoodie from the backseat. "We don't want to draw unnecessary attention."

Felix nodded in understanding, slipping on the hoodie . As he zipped it up, his expression mirrored yours, a reflection of the seriousness of the task ahead.

With one last glance exchanged between you and your friends, the car pulled out of the driveway. The road stretched out before you, winding its way through the darkness like a path into the heart of the mystery that awaited you at the address you'd been given.

As the car came to a stop in front of the warehouse, a sense of apprehension settled over the group. The imposing structure loomed before you, its darkened windows and looming shadows creating an eerie atmosphere. The gravel crunched under the tires as the engine cut out, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

Felix, ever the inquisitive one, couldn't seem to contain his curiosity. "So, what exactly are we doing here?" he asked, his voice filled with what sounded like excitement and fear.

The group, ignoring his question, stepped out of the car. The gravel crunched beneath their feet as they shut the doors with a bang.

Felix, sensing the gravity of the situation, followed suit, his curiosity still burning brightly despite the lack of response to his questions. With a determined stride, he joined the others, his gaze fixed on the structure before you. Unable to contain his curiosity, he piped up again, "Guys, seriously, what's going on? Why are we here?"

Chan shot him a withering look, his patience wearing thin. "Can you please just shut up for a minute?" he snapped, the tension of the situation beginning to take its toll.

Felix recoiled slightly, stung by the harshness of Chan's words. 

"We need to figure out how to get in," you interjected, redirecting the conversation away from confrontation. "Let's focus on that for now."

After a moment of scanning the building, its weathered exterior hinted at years of neglect, with broken windows and faded paint, Seungmin spotted a side door slightly ajar. "Over there," he whispered, gesturing towards the entrance.

"Let's go," you said, your voice low but determined. Chan stayed close, his presence reassuring you in the darkness. You felt the weight of his hand on your back, a silent gesture of protection. The rusted hinges creaked softly as Adam opened the door, as if protesting the intrusion.

"Stay close," Chan murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. With cautious steps, you all slipped inside, the darkness of the warehouse enveloping you.

The interior was dimly lit, the faint glow of distant lights casting long shadows across the floor. You moved forward slowly, your senses on high alert as you navigated the labyrinth corridors of the abandoned building.

As you ventured further into the warehouse, the darkness seemed to press in around you, suffocating in its intensity. But just as the shadows threatened to overwhelm you, the lights flickered to life, illuminating the interior with a harsh fluorescent glow.

For a moment, you were blinded by the sudden brightness, blinking against the glare as your eyes adjusted to the light. And then, as the scene before you came into focus, a gasp escaped your lips, a sharp intake of breath that caught in your throat.

It was a chilling sight that greeted you, a scene straight out of a nightmare. The walls were adorned with photographs and drawings, a chaotic collage of images that seemed to stretch on endlessly. 

There were photographs of you, hundreds of them, each one capturing a different moment in time. Some were innocent snapshots, while others were more sinister, taken from a distance or in secret. And interspersed among the photographs, were drawings, sketches that depicted you in various poses, some eerily lifelike, others distorted and grotesque.

But it wasn't just the images that sent a chill down your spine.

Scattered around were pieces of clothing, personal belongings that had gone missing over the past few weeks.

And in the center of it all was a single photograph, larger than the rest, framed in a gaudy gold frame.

As you stood frozen in shock, your eyes fixated on the central photograph framed in gold, a shiver ran down your spine. It depicted a moment of triumph, frozen in time. You, standing on stage, holding the award for Artist of the Year.

You stumbled backwards, your legs threatening to give out beneath you as the full weight of the situation crashed down upon you. This was no ordinary warehouse. It was a shrine, a twisted homage to your darkest fears and deepest secrets, and you were standing right in the heart of it.

Chan's strong arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace, steadying you as you stumbled backward.

With trembling hands, the world spun dizzily around you as you struggled to make sense of the nightmare unfolding before your eyes. But deep down, you knew that there was no rational explanation for what you were seeing. This was the work of a madman, a predator lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike.

 "What the hell is all this?" Felix exclaimed, his eyes darting around the room in bewilderment.

Seungmin's gaze flickered to the surroundings, taking in the eerie display with a mixture of dread and fascination. "It's like some kind of twisted shrine," he remarked. Felix's eyes widened in horror as he processed Seungmin's words, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

"Who would do something like this?" Adam murmured, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

You shook your head. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

As if drawn by an invisible force, the five of you stepped closer to examine the items scattered around the room. In the photographs and drawings, there were poloroid images of you with all the boys, your manager Zayne, and even your bodyguard Adam. Each picture was a secret snapshot, taken without your knowledge or consent.

Among the photographs and personal belongings, you noticed familiar items that didn't belong to you alone. Some were pieces of clothing worn by the boys, and others were personal effects that belonged to them.

"This is sick," Chan muttered, his eyes widening in horror as he took in the disturbing collection. "Wait.... these are Han's shoes," he exclaimed, pointing to a pair of sneakers tucked away in the corner. As he leaned closer, the intricate designs drawn on the shoes became clearer—Hyunjin's distinctive style evident in every stroke. "Hyunjin drew on them for him, remember?" he added, as he glanced at you for confirmation.

Seungmin's brows furrowed in concern as he surveyed the scene. "And those are Changbin's headphones," he noted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a chill run down your spine as the realization sank in. Whoever had orchestrated this twisted shrine wasn't just fixated on you—they had been watching all of you, collecting pieces of your lives like trophies.

And then, as you continued to sift through the evidence, Felix's sharp intake of breath caught your attention. His eyes were fixed on a small camera lying among the other items, its sleek black exterior gleaming dully in the dim light.

With trembling hands, you picked up the camera, its weight heavy with the weight of its implications. The sleek black surface was marked with a small detail that made your heart sink:

HH initials engraved discreetly on the side.

Felix's eyes widened in recognition. "Wait... this is Hyunjin's camera," he exclaimed, his voice trembling with disbelief.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as Felix's words sank in. Hyunjin had mentioned misplacing his camera not too long ago, but to find it here, in the heart of this twisted shrine, was beyond unsettling.

Seungmin's brows furrowed in concern as he reached out to inspect the camera. "But how did Hyunjin's camera end up here?" he questioned.

Felix shook his head, his expression a mix of confusion and alarm. "I don't know, but… look at it," he urged, pointing to the camera's worn exterior. "It's like it's been through a lot… and the photos…" He carefully picked up a photograph, holding it up to the dim light. The image, a faded Polaroid, matched the type that Hyunjin's camera would produce.

"T-They match." he stuttered.

Your stomach churned with dread as you noticed the telltale signs of wear and tear on the camera. It looked like it had been used extensively, as if it had been the one responsible for capturing the hundreds of photographs that adorned the walls of the shrine.

As you mulled over Felix's revelation, Chan's voice broke the heavy silence. " There's drawing's too," he added, his tone grim as he gestured towards a pile of sketches nearby.

You put the camera down and approached the pile of sketches, your heart pounding in your chest. As you sifted through them, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you. The drawings were indeed different, varying in style and execution, almost as if they had been created by two different artists or personalities. Chan picked up one of the sketches, observing it silently.

"Who else can draw like this?" he pointed out after a while, his tone grave. The style was unmistakable—it bore a striking resemblance to Hyunjin's artwork, the same attention to detail and fluid lines that he had meticulously honed over the years.

A knot formed in your stomach as you considered the implications. Hyunjin, your friend and confidant, had always been a pillar of support and kindness. But could he be capable of something so sinister?

Seungmin's expression darkened as he processed the possibility. "It doesn't make sense," he murmured, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Hyunjin wouldn't... he couldn't..."

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you feeling sick and unsteady on your feet. Hyunjin, your friend and confidant, had always been a pillar of support and kindness. The thought of him being capable of such a sinister act was almost too much to bear.

As the conversation unfolded, your eyes flicked nervously around the dimly lit surroundings. Suddenly, a movement caught your attention—a figure standing atop the railing, shrouded in darkness and clad in all-black attire, their face concealed by a mask.

Your heart leaped into your throat as you caught sight of the mysterious figure, their presence sending a jolt of fear coursing through your veins. Seungmin and Felix followed your gaze, their expressions turning to shock as they spotted the figure.

"Who… who's that?" Felix whispered, his voice barely above a horrified murmur.

Chan's grip tightened on your arm, his expression grim as he took in the sight before him. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice tense with apprehension. "But we need to get out of here, now."

Your breath caught in your throat as you locked eyes with the mysterious intruder. Yet, before you could react, Seungmin's darted towards the railing where the shadowy figure had been perched just moments before, his footsteps echoing off the cold, hard surfaces as he ascended the stairs.

"Seungmin, wait!" Chan called out, his voice ringing with urgency as he reached out towards his friend. "Get back here!"

The figure, sensing Seungmin's pursuit, sprang into action, leaping off the railing and onto the platform below. As they landed gracefully, they wasted no time in breaking into a swift sprint down another flight of stairs and out the door.

You were torn between the impulse to follow Seungmin and the instinct to stay rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the surreal turn of events. As Seungmin surged forward, his voice rang out in the night, sharp and commanding. "Stop! Come back here!" he shouted, his words echoing off the walls of the deserted alley. But the figure showed no signs of slowing down, their pace unyielding.

As the figure dashed away, Seungmin in hot pursuit and Chan torn between following him and ensuring your safety, Adam leaped into action. With a swift motion, he bolted after Seungmin, his muscular frame disappearing into the darkness outside.

With Adam gone, Chan's attention snapped back to you, his grip on your arm tightening even further. "We need to go," he said urgently, his voice strained with worry. "Now."

As the tension mounted and the urgency to leave intensified, Felix remained steadfast, his phone in hand, capturing every detail of the eerie scene with precision. With each click of the shutter, he immortalized the chilling evidence before you.

"Felix, let's go!" Chan called out, his voice edged with urgency as he urged everyone to leave the warehouse behind.

"We can't leave without this evidence," Felix insisted.

Chan's patience wore thin, and he shot Felix a stern glare, his expression conveying a sense of urgency that left no room for argument. Felix, momentarily taken aback by the intensity of Chan's stare, quickly backtracked.

"Okay, let's go," Felix conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension as he hastened to join the group. With Felix now at his side, Chan led you out of the warehouse through the same door you came from.

As you made your way to the car, the adrenaline coursed through your veins drowning out the sounds of your footsteps, your heart pounding in your ears.

Outside, the cool night air offered a welcome reprieve from the stifling atmosphere of the warehouse. You breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself as you leaned against the cold metal of the building's exterior.

But even as you tried to push aside the unsettling thoughts that gnawed at your mind, one thing was clear:

the nightmare was far from over.

And until you uncovered the truth behind the twisted shrine and the person responsible for it, you wouldn't rest easy.

In the dim light of the alleyway, you could only catch a faint glimpse of Seungmin in the distance, grappling with the shadowy figure. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Seungmin's valiant attempt to apprehend the intruder. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though he had gained the upper hand, his fingers closing around the figure's arm in a desperate bid to restrain them.

But then, in an instant, everything changed.

The figure, desperate to break free, lashed out with surprising strength, delivering a powerful kick that sent Seungmin staggering backwards. With a sickening thud, he collided with the side of the building, his head striking against the unforgiving surface.

A gasp escaped your lips as you watched in horror, the scene unfolding before you in slow motion. Panic surged through you as Seungmin crumpled to the ground, his body limp and motionless.

Seconds later Adam appeared, racing to Seungmin's side with lightning speed. With practiced precision, he assessed the situation, his hands moving swiftly to check for signs of injury.

"Seungmin!" Chan's voice pierced the silence, his tone laced with urgency as he sprinted towards them, his footsteps echoing in the alleyway. His command compelled the rest of you to follow suit, each step heavy with dread and apprehension.

With every passing moment, the weight of the situation bore down on you, the reality of the danger you faced becoming all too real. As you all reached Seungmin's side, Chan knelt beside him.

"Seungmin, can you hear me?" Adam's voice was urgent as he gently cradled Seungmin's head in his hands.

But there was no response, only the haunting silence of the night, broken only by the distant sound of footsteps echoing in the darkness. Adam carefully examined Seungmin.

"He's alive. He's.......He's breathing, but he's bleeding."

"We need to get him to a hospital," Chan declared, his voice steady despite the panic that you all were feeling.

With Adam's assistance, Chan carefully lifted Seungmin's limp form, supporting him as you all made your way back to the car. Each step feeling like an eternity.

You quickly formulated a course of action, mapping out the fastest route to the nearest hospital.

As the car sped through the darkened streets, the urgency of the situation hung heavy in the air. With each passing moment, Seungmin's condition seemed to weigh on you more heavily.

Together, you navigated the twists and turns of the city, your eyes fixed on your friend as you raced against time to save him. And as the lights of the hospital came into view, you felt a surge of hope, knowing that help was finally within reach.

As you rushed Seungmin into the emergency room, the hospital staff sprang into action, whisking him away for immediate treatment. Your heart pounded with fear and anxiety as you watched them disappear behind the swinging doors, leaving you feeling helpless and alone in the sterile corridor.

As you waited anxiously for news of Seungmin's condition, your phone buzzed with a new message. With trembling hands, you unlocked your phone to find a text from the Unknown number that had been haunting you.

The ominous words sent a chill down your spine, a reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows. Whoever was behind this was playing a dangerous game, and you were caught in the middle of it.

ઇଓ EP.6 - To be or not to be

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

ઇଓ Taglist

@kayleefriedchicken  @stellasays45 @beautyandmentalbreakdown @bo-fairykim @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@seunghancore @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @stayceebs97 @julciaqwerty @jaiuneamesolitaiire

@bowsnbang  @skzruby @miss-delaneyrose @candyquokka @miin17

@mellhwang @christopherisfoive @linoalwaysknows @lyracarvahall @user09876512345678

@hyukazwifey @sunoosfavsposts

Red means you are not able to be tagged! Please Send me a dm to get removed from the taglist.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Faust with a Star who's an artist and asks him to pose for drawings (HCs/Short Story, whichever works for you!!)

Draw me like one of your French girls!

Bc of how cute this idea was I made it both <33

Loves being your model, doing poses you need with ease as you sketch it quickly

Honestly if you called him your muse he's giggling while telling you to stop (continue doing it he loves it so much)

If you need a specific pose he let's you move his body as you want it

Also 100% down changing outfits if you need to use them as a reference as well, he's basically Barbie with how many outfits he'll change in to

Makes silly jokes about the titanic how he's the Rose to your Jack.

When you finish the work he asks if he could post and brag about his awesome artist partner!

If you posted it already he's sharing it to all his social media platforms. Giggling as everyone complements how amazing it is

During streams he always talks about how you drew him again saying how loved he is by a artist.

"Like this?" Asking as he posed in front of Star. Looking at them with a soft smile, relaxing into the couch he lounged on. Faust's partner turned their head and smiled at the pose.

"Perfect! Your such an amazing poser! My muse!" Praising him, Star grabbed their pencil and started to sketch the base of how his body in on the couch. Preening Faust giggles hearing the nickname he loved so much.

"Is this for another commission?" Questioning, Faust watched as his artist's hand flys across the canvas. Quickly capturing how the pose is, he always loved seeing them work. It was like magic how they formed a blank surface into art.

"Yep! Red, is what he said to call him wanted an exact picture to that of Rose from the titanic. But it would be his partner." Mumbling Star's eyes shifted back and forth. From to canvas at their side to Faust posing in front of them so perfectly.

"Oh? Even naked? How scandalous~" Giggling as he wiggled his eye brows. Causing Star to snort at him, but then nodded as they recall the commission agreement.

"I know right? He got consent from his partner to send me a nude picture. Hopefully I do it justice!" Sighing out, Star remembered the first commission they did with a naked model. "I swear if I butcher it I'll quit art."

Faust pouted at that, but then remembered how distraught Star was when the commission was turned down. They tried redoing it multiple times but the commissioner just didn't like it. Huffing out Faust turned his head to them and spoke.

"Well if that person wasn't sooo picky! You wouldn't have felt bad. You redid it like....a thousand times! Honestly I wonder if they were just trolling you...." Mumbling out the last part, Faust saw Star shaking their head. Causing him to roll his eyes, Faust wishes they could see how their art was perfect and amazing.

"But still, I only need the pose then I can work from there. You wanna watch me work again? Might take longer than expected." Whispering as they focused on the canvas. Letting Faust think it over then sighing at them, shaking his head slightly.

"Can't there's this new game out I got sponsored for to play and I gotta do that before it'd deadline. Maybe when your done with this commission we can play together?" Asking hopefully, Star was on a break from gaming. To focus on finishing the few commissions they landed. Once again his partner shook their head, giving him a sad smile.

"I'm sorry muse, but I'll make it up by playing with you on Friday. I wanna focus on this commission. Don't worry I won't push myself that far." Giggling out the last bit. However Faust gave them a look, to be serious about the breaks and not pushing too far.

"I swear if you accidently don't eat for a day like last time and get sick. I'm killing you. With love of course." Smiling innocently as he batted his lashes. Star nodded at their partner, better to agree or it'll be a long conversation.

"Of course my muse, my moon, love of my life-" Babbling nicknames for him, Faust gave them another look to stop talking or they'll focus on praising him.

"Oops! Well, I'll sing your praises another day. Now, let me fix your pose real quick I think you moved a bit too much." Mumbling out as Star got up and tweaked with the pose a bit.

[caapsiizzereads]

Would you write a soft Jamie fic where he and his girlfriend have a paint night to decompress after a stressful week and they get into a paint fight?

Whenever i think of a paint fight, i always think about that one scene from skam france… iykyk

“That’s… colorful,” you regard Jamie’s work of art with a glass of wine in your hand.

Surprisingly, it was Jamie’s idea to have a “paint night”, although it was heavily inspired by the expressionism exhibition you dragged him to last weekend. You’re more of an art admirer than a creator.

It’s a nice warm evening, which Jamie declared to be perfect for a painting session in your backyard. You had bought a bunch of paints and a canvas in advance earlier this week, and instead of an easel, you set up a chair propped on a box.

Jamie appeared to be very enthusiastic and clearly had something in mind, so you gladly settled in the garden chair with some wine and let him go at it. Like you said, an admirer.

When he was done, he beckoned you to join him in front of the canvas. “It’s like a pitch, see? Green is grass, obviously, and red and blue is for Richmond, and that tiny black dot is for Roy.”

“Alright, Jackson Pollock, I see,” you chuckle.

“You wanna add something?” he offers you a brush.

“Want me to draw you like one of my French girls?”

“Always want to get me naked…”

“I was thinking something more theme related, but if you’re offering…” you smile suggestively at him. “Okay, let’s see.” You put down the glass and pick up the brush.

You add some speckles of white to the painting. “It’s like the movement of the ball, you know. Also can be for the marking on the grass and the white in your kits.”

“I like this,” he smiles fondly at you, and then there’s a weird glint in his eyes.

“What?”

“I think you have paint on your face. Here, let me…”

He swipes his thumb against your cheek, leaving behind a greasy trail of paint while looking at you with a shit-eating grin.

If looks could kill, Jamie would be dead right now. You glare at him, and then without breaking eye contact, you stick your hand into the paint and bring your open palm right on Jamie’s face, smearing it all around.

You can see him dipping his hand in the paint behind him, and then he’s bringing his hand up to your face, but you catch his wrist before it can reach its target. Not ready to give up just yet, he goes for a kiss instead, pressing his paint-covered face against yours.

You’re still holding Jamie’s paint soaked hand in yours, and now it’s being squished between you two, staining both your t-shirts with blue paint.

You let go of his hand, and he puts it on your arm, while yours goes up to his jaw and then down his neck, leaving a trail of paint all the way down to the collar of his t-shirt. You both laugh into your kiss.

The paint starts to slowly dry out on your skin, and the uncomfortable feeling brings Jamie back to reality. “How hard is this to get out?”

“I guess we’re about to find out.”

“Race you to the shower,” he grins at you.

“Who wants to get who naked now?”

[sweetpascal]

— 𝐭 𝐡 𝐞 𝐬 𝐭 𝐨 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐝 𝐢 𝐚 𝐫 𝐢 𝐞 𝐬 ༄

pairing: dieter bravo x fem!reader

MAIN MASTERLIST

— series summary: being dieter's only best friend—also long term friends with benefits—you've learned not to be an enabler like the other "friends" he's had in the past. after forcing him to only have weed as his drug of choice as therapy, you're soon trapped in his world of chaos, sex, and idiocy.

— series warnings: [ WARNINGS WILL BE MORE DESCRIPTIVE PER CHAPTER ]. MINORS DNI. idiots to lovers (boffum). TW: weed use. healthy coping mechanisms. TW: mentions of poor mental health. sex sex lots of sex. brief angsty-ness. dieter is just a huge dork in this.

— notes: the dividers used in this series have all been made by me. please give credit if you wanna take them for any fics you'd wanna use them for. thank you !! ≽^•⩊•^≼

follow @sweetpascal-notifs for updates on future fics.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹. 💌 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃.

ᝰ.ᐟ = s m u t 〤 = a n g s t

no. 01 — draw me like one of your french girl's

MORE COMING SOON. ༉‧₊˚.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ EXTRAS ꒱ ˎˊ˗

series pinterest board

[adarkrainbow]

A Little Red Riding Hood variation: Little Golden Hood

I am currently reading "The Land of Lost Things", and something struck me - the name used for Little Red Riding Hood. Blanchette. A French name for sure, but a name composed of "white" (blanc) with the female diminutive "-ette". So, "small white one". Quite a strange name for a Little Red Riding Hood, but I just passed over it.

And even more recently, I saw people talk on Tumblr of an alternate Little Red Riding Hood story titled "Little Golden Hood". And what a surprise when I hear that... It is supposedly a French folktale!

Here is a rough English translation of the original French text, shared around the Internet:

There was a little girl that was called Little Golden-hood. She was pretty and nice as a star in its season. Her real name was Blanchette, but since she used to have on a wonderful little cloak with a hood that was gold-and-fire-coloured, she was called Little Golden-hood. Her Grandmother had given it to her. She was so old that she did not know her age.

One day the mother said to the child: "Let us see, my little Golden-hood, if you know now how to find your way to Grandmother's house by yourself. You shall take this good piece of cake to her for a Sunday treat tomorrow. Remember to ask her how she is, and come back at once, without stopping to chatter on the way with people you don't know. Do you quite understand?"

"I quite understand," replied Blanchette merrily. And off she went with the cake, pleased with her errand.

But Grandmother lived in another village, and there was a wood to cross before getting there. At a turn of the road under the trees, suddenly she heard an animal among the bushes.

"Who goes there?"

"Friend Wolf."

He had been prying on her since she left home that day, seeking a safe place to attack and eat her. But then some wood-cutters appeared near-by. So instead of falling on Blanchette he came frisking up to her like a good dog.

"It is you, nice Little Golden-hood," said he. So the little girl stopped to talk with the wolf, even though she did not know him in the least.

"You know me, then!" said she; "what is your name?"

"My name is friend Wolf. And where are you going, pretty one, with your little basket on your arm?"

"I am going to my Grandmother, to take her a good piece of cake for her Sunday treat tomorrow."

"And where does she live, your Grandmother?"

"She lives at the other side of the wood, in the first house in the village, near the windmill, you know."

"Ah! yes! I know now," said the Wolf. "Well, that's just where I'm going; I shall get there before you, no doubt, with your little bits of legs, and I'll tell her you're coming to see her; then she'll wait for you."

The Wolf cut across the wood, and in five minutes arrived at the Grandmother's house.

He knocked at the door: toc, toc.

No answer.

He knocked louder.

Nobody.

Then he stood up on end, put his two forepaws on the latch and the door opened. There was not a soul in the house, for the old woman had risen early to sell herbs in the town, and she had gone off in such haste that she had left her bed unmade, with her great nightcap on the pillow.

"Good!" said the wolf to himself, "I know what I'll do."

He shut the door, pulled on the Grandmother's nightcap down to his eyes, then he laid down in his full length in the bed after drawing the curtains.

In the meantime, Blanchette went quietly on her way, as little girls do, amusing herself here and there by picking Easter daisies, watching the little birds making their nests, and running after the butterflies which fluttered in the sunshine.

At last she arrived at the door. Knock, knock.

"Who is there?" said the wolf, softening his rough voice as best he could.

"It's me, Granny, your little Golden-hood. I'm bringing you a big piece of cake for your Sunday treat tomorrow."

"Press your finger on the latch, then push and the door opens."

"Why, you've got a cold, Granny," said she, coming in.

"Ahem! A little, a little . . ." replied the wolf, pretending to cough. "Shut the door well, my little lamb. Put your basket on the table, and then take off your frock and come and lie down by me and rest a little."

The good child undressed, but kept her little hood on her head. When she saw what a figure her Granny cut in bed, she was much surprised.

"Oh!" cried she, "how like you are to friend Wolf, Grandmother!"

"That's because of my night-cap, child," replies the wolf.

"Oh! What hairy arms you have got, Grandmother!"

"All the better to hug you, my child."

"Oh! What a big tongue you have got, Grandmother!"

"All the better for answering, child."

"Oh! What a mouthful of great white teeth you have, Grandmother!"

"That's for crunching little children with! "And the wolf opened his jaws wide to swallow Blanchette.

But she put down her head crying, "Mamma! Mamma!" and the wolf only caught her little hood.

The wolf drew back, crying and shaking his jaw as if he had swallowed red-hot coals. The little fire-coloured hood that had burnt his tongue right down his throat. The little hood, you see, was one of those magic caps that they used to have in former times, in stories.

So there was the wolf with his throat burnt, jumping off the bed and trying to find the door, howling and howling as if all the dogs in the country were at his heels.

Just at this moment the Grandmother arrived. She was returning from town with her long sack empty on her shoulder.

"Ah, brigand!" she cried, "wait a bit!" Quickly she opened her sack wide across the door, and the maddened wolf sprang in head downwards. For once it was he that had been caught.

The brave old dame shut her sack, and next she ran and emptied it in the well. The vagabond wolf, still howling, tumbled in and was drowned.

"Ah, scoundrel! You thought you would crunch my little grandchild! Well, tomorrow we will make her a muff of your skin, and you yourself shall be crunched, for we will give your carcass to the dogs."

Then Grandmother hastened to dress Blanchette, who was still trembling with fear in the bed.

"Well," she said to her, "without my little hood where would you be now, darling?" To restore heart to the child, she made her eat a good piece of her cake and drink a good draught of wine. After that she took her by the hand and led her back to her home.

And then, who scolded her when she knew all that had happened? It was the mother. But Blanchette said she would never more stop to listen to a wolf, so her mother forgave her.

Blanchette, the Little Golden-hood, kept her word. And in fine weather she may still be seen in the fields with her pretty little hood, the colour of the sun.

But to see her you must rise early.

I found back the original French text, "Le Petit Chaperon d'Or" or rather "La Véritable Histoire du Petit Chaperon d'Or" - there are segments which were cut from the story, such as an entire paragraph opening the tale by saying "You all heard of the story of Little Red Riding Hood, but today we know the REAL story and this is the one you will hear today". And the source for this story is a 1888 book by Charles Marelle, called "Affenschwanz et cetera: variantes orales de contes populaires français et étrangers" (Oral variations of French and foreign folktales).

Now who was Charles Marelle? He was a folklorist and poet of the 19th century who spoke and wrote in both French and German - he notably taught French literature in Berlin. He was born in 1827 and died after 1903 (we do not have his exact date of death). He published two works in German: Italienische Volkslieder (1887) ; and Die französischen Mährchen von Perrault : von G. Doré illustrirt, mit der deutschen Bearbeitung Moritz Hartmann's und einigen Stücken aus der Grimm'schen Sammlung verglichen. He also published two French works: On the pronunciation of the silent "e" ; and Folk-tales and Folk-songs of France. He also published a collection of "small fables, songs and poetry for children".

The work above, "Affenschwanz et cetera" was first published in German in 1888, then translated in French in 1894 : Variétés littéraires et caetera. He even received a prize from the Académie française for this book. As the name says, the purpose of the book was apparently to collect oral variations of famous fairytales - after all, the 19th century was the start of the great collect of oral and folkloric fairytales opposing the literary ones.

In the introduction of the book, Marelle explains this tale was told to him in 1880, by a lawyer named Lucas living in Crésantignes (Aube), who himself had heard the tale by a school teacher of Romilly.

The English text above is a very ROUGH translation, and I insist on that because I discovered that the English text cut off some parts of the French tale. For example, when the Grandmother is introduced there is a whole segment missing that goes as such: "Se had given her this hood ; it was supposed to bring her good fortune, because she claimed it was made out of a ray of sunlight. And, since the good old woman was rumored to be a bit of a witch, everybody also believed that the little cap was a bit bewitched. And it was indeed, as you will see." Another deleted segment is when the story explains that the hood was one of those "magical caps" of the "olden times" - the English text cuts off the mention that the caps the narrator refers to made their owners "invisible or invulnerable". Finally, there's some translation mistakes - the exchange "Who goes there? Friend Wolf" is not a dialogue in the original text, rather it is the narrator who goes "Oh, but who goes there? Why it's Mister Wolf!".

But outside of the bad translation, I want to talk about the story itself and of how... How weird it is. As in, when you know your Little Red Riding Hood, this variation is very, very weird.

For example, if you have been here for some times you might remember I posted about the "original" version of the Little Red Riding Hood tale, the reconstruction that has been made of the primitive, oral version of the tale before Perrault rewrote it entirely - I already evoked it here while talking about the Sandman comic, and then I went into more details about this reconstructed ancestor here. And this oral variation bears absolutely no mark of the original oral version of the story. No meat or wine awaiting the girl, no dark abrupt ending, no disturbing strip-tease by the chimney, no excuse to go to the natural toilets... This story clearly belongs to the post-Perrault world - for example you have this strong focus on the hood, which was an element brought forward by Perrault, and you have a variation of the "Tire la bobinette et la chevilette cherra" formula from Perrault's fairytale.

But even more than a post-Perrault fairytale, you also see contaminations by the German version of the story as the Grimms would illustrate it, because you have the protagonists surviving in the end, and topics such as the capture and drowning of the wolf. Remember, Charles Marelle was all about linking together French and German culture... The deleted paragraph about "Perrault's story is false, THIS is the real story" also shows a very clear intention of opposing and rejecting the literary creation of Perrault, reflecting this very typical approach of the 19th century folklorists - which lasted up until the second half of the 20th century - of considering any type of oral story collected, any type of "countryside variation" of a given fairytale, superior, above and "truer" than their literary counterparts. This mistake was notably what led generations of fairytale folklorists (at least in France) to consider that the literary versions of fairytales should not be taken into account in the evolution and formation of these stories, despite them being usually A) older than the oral versions collected and B) massively popular to the point of being part of everybody's popular culture.

But here is the big clue that shows this version is less "folkloric" and more "folklorist-invented". I won't call it artificial, but there is this BIG element that clearly makes this story stand out as a perfect example of 19th century-folklorists belief. The sun motif. The fact that Little Red Riding Hood now becomes a "Golden Hood", that the Hood made of sun-rays is of a fire color and burns the wolf, and the entire ending where the little girl can be spotted shining in the fields early in the morning... This story makes it so that Little Red Riding Hood becomes a solar story. And here's the problem... The idea that fairytales are all solar myths - Little Red Riding Hood especially - was mostly an invention of 19th century folklorists, perpetuated by 20th century folklorist and authors, and only recently debunked. It is true that some famous stories have a solar motif to them - Sleeping Beauty for example has a strong solar motif, that cannot be denied. But to consider, for example, Cinderella or Bluebeard as solar myths is definitively going too far... And while Little Red Riding Hood could be understood as a solar myth, it truly isn't. Because those that defend this idea A) use the brothers Grimm version of the tale where the little girl escapes the wolf's belly to illustrate "day returns after night", ignoring that this was a recent addition to the story after Perrault's time B) focus strongly on the red of the hood... When we know today that making the little riding hood "red" was an innovation of Perrault, and not originally present in the story.

Here you have all the markings, clues and imprints of someone who was trying to enforce the "solar myth theory" into the Little Red Riding Hood story, and clearly re-created a so-called "folkloric" version just to spurn Perrault's story. The simple obsession with the hood, explaining why it is here, giving it special powers, and focusing so intensely on its color, proves that this was a story created with the intention of opposing and rivaling Perrault's own story, since all the versions actually "folkloric" show a neglect of the hood or the color in favor of focusing on elements such as the cannibal meal, the paths of pin and needles, or the escape naked through the woods.

That being said, I personally do enjoy a lot this story. I find it fun and clever. I greatly enjoy the role reversal where it is the grandmother, not a woodsman, that saves the girl ; I enjoy the grandmother becoming a witch and the element of the magical golden hood. It is a very pleasant and fascinating variation of the story, very feminist before its time.

BUT context and analysis is greatly needed to understand that this is not some sort of "proof that Little Red Riding Hood was originally the golden grandaughter of a witch, and the embodiment of the sun". This story was clearly artificial or crafted after and in reaction to Perrault's story, with influence from German fairytales. It is no surprise that the sources for this variation were not people of the "low folk" but educated people of a higher class: the story wasn't told by a seamstress, a beggar, a farmer... But by a school teacher first, and it was then retold by a lawyer. So it is not so much a true "folktale" of France, as rather a scientific creation meant to become an oral folktale and be treated as such.

[rayslittlekitten]

Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls

A/N: This is finally done! I swear I started this like two years ago inspired by a Writer Wednesday prompt and I kinda got stuck trying to paint the exact picture I had in my mind and I think I finally succeeded. Okay maybe a little less detailed, but it's got the point I wanted to make across. This is kinda like a villain origin story. I chose to pair him with an OC (who also has physical descriptions) instead of reader character because this is really all about Dieter and I don’t think the reader would want to be the OC anyways. Also thanks to the lovely @lovebarefootblonde for beta reading!

Rating: T/M

Word Count: ~4.5k

Pairing: Young!Dieter Bravo (18+) x Named OFC

Plot: Dieter stumbles into his own Hollywood movie, but it's not the ending he expected.

Contains: mentions of sex, recreational drug use, angst

The sun is starting to set and palm tree silhouettes sway in front of the pink and orange skyline. The Golden Hour. The light casts long shadows as the glowing star descends. Dieter quickly pedals, cutting through alleyways and side streets to avoid the rush hour traffic and tourists.

Finally, he bursts through the front door of his apartment holding a take out bag and sweating like he just ran a marathon. He pants and tries to catch his breath as he quickly makes his way to the kitchen and shoves the bag into the nearly empty refrigerator. After slamming the door shut, he jogs over to the bathroom where he passes his roommate on the couch.

"I brought home some leftovers if you want it," Dieter quickly mentions.

"Is it a cheeseburger?" his roommate asks, his eyes never leaving the television screen.

"No! It's spaghetti and meatballs!" Dieter shouts from the bathroom where he starts getting rid of his sweaty and smelly clothes from waiting tables all day after turning on the shower.

"There's a party happening downtown tonight. Are you going?"

"No, I got this gig last minute. I gotta leave in like 10 minutes," he replies before shoving his toothbrush into his mouth.

"Come on, there's gonna be so many women there!" his roommate comments.

Dieter rushes through cleaning his teeth and spits into the sink.

"I'm working the Titanic premiere at the Chinese theater," he shouts before jumping into the shower, not even waiting for the water to warm up. He shrieks at the shock of the cold temperature.

After Dieter's record quick shower, he throws on some decently clean clothes after giving them a sniff and then shoves his feet into his shoes.

"The Titanic premiere? Get out! Who the hell did you have to blow to get that gig?" his roommate asks skeptically.

"No one. One of my coworkers also works catering and someone dropped out," Dieter shrugs. "I'm getting paid to serve stars. I'm not passing up on that."

"Well, look at you, climbing the Hollywood social ladder. Next, you're gonna tell me you're the new Leonardo DiCaprio."

"You could be the next Leonardo DiCaprio if you actually went to auditions instead of waiting for someone to notice you," Dieter shoots back.

"You do you man. I have my own methods," he replies smugly.

"I gotta go. See you later. Please do the dishes before you go to this party," Dieter adds before grabbing an apple out of a fruit bowl sitting on the kitchen counter and taking off.

***

As Dieter races to the theater on his bike, riding as quick as he possibly could while weaving through traffic, he slows down for a moment when he sees the large crowd lined up by the red carpet outside of the beautiful iconic theater. His breath is taken away as he admires the glitz and glamor in front of him.

The Grauman’s Chinese Theatre is a place he’s gotten well acquainted with since moving to Los Angeles. It’s one of his favorite places to go in his free time, watching all the new film releases. Sometimes multiple times if he enjoys them that much. However, he’s never actually attended a movie premiere and the elegant transformation has him in a chokehold.

As he approaches the theater, he hops off mid-roll as he slows down and hears a loud roar coming from the fans barricaded off to the side. He can't see who it is, but a limo just pulled up to the front of the theater and the screams get louder as someone steps out of the car and walks down the red carpet. He knows one day, it'll be him walking down that plush red carpet and loved by fans.

He moves quickly to behind the theater where his coworker told him to meet her. He sprints when he finds his coworker right outside the back door appearing to finish putting on her uniform.

"Oh, thank goodness you made it!" She says as she buttons up her uniform vest.

"I got here as quickly as I could." He drops his bike and with his hands on his knees, Dieter pauses to catch his breath.

"We don't have time!" She tosses him his uniform vest.

Dieter instantly throws the vest on.

"Come on! We gotta run," she tells him as she takes off inside.

"What about my bike?" he asks as he throws his bag over his shoulder.

"Bring it in!" she shouts from the long hallway.

Dieter takes his bike with him and rushes inside, letting the door close behind him. He leaves the bike and bag somewhere and she gestures to him to hurry. As he follows her, he buttons up and stuffs his shirt into his pants. By the time they enter the kitchen, he's mostly put together as he smooths out his hair, slicking it back.

He doesn't even get a moment to catch his breath when a tray of hors d'oeuvres get shoved into his hands.

"Go, go, go!" the man in apron shouts as he nudges Dieter towards the swinging doors.

Dieter rushes out while trying not to tip over the tray. He gathers his composure and walks around offering hors d'oeuvres while taking in the celebrities and VIPs. He was so in awe of everything and everyone around him, being in the midst of one of the most important parties celebrating what he believes will be one of the biggest movies of the year. It’s James freakin’ Cameron!

Throughout the night, he continues to walk around with trays of food and beverages while taking everything in. He’s taking notice of what people are wearing, saying, who’s talking to who. Even though he’s not able to mingle with the stars, he’s just as happy that he gets to still, in a way, be in the middle of it all. He was even able to sneak into the theater a few times to watch the movie.

As he makes his way back to the kitchen with an empty tray, suddenly he’s blindsided by a swinging door.

“Oops! I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t know you were behind the door,” the person apologizes.

“You went out the wrong door,” he exclaims while picking up his tray off the floor.

“Are you okay?”

When Dieter looks up at the offending person, his face softens. She looks like a Golden Aged Hollywood star. Her long wavy hair cascades down her exposed back. Her floor-length shiny dress is slinky against her smooth skin, hugging her every curve and dip, and flaring out at her ankles. Her long fanned out lashes and cat eyeliner frame her piercing eyes.

“I… yeah I’m… I’m good,” he stammers, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth. “Um, can I help you? Are, are you lost?” He vaguely points to the kitchen doors.

“Say, you happen to know where I can powder my nose?” She asks curiously while tapping the tip of her nose with he satin-covered fingertip.

“Uhhh, the ladies’ room is that way,” he points to a general direction.

“You’re adorable,” she compliments with a giggle after a silent moment studying him. “This is your first time working one of these big Hollywood parties, isn’t it?”

“Uhhh… no?”

Something out of his eyesight catches her attention and she loops her arm through his before quickly swooping him away into a different direction.

“So, uh, what did you say your name was again?” She asks as she briskly moves them farther away from where they were, occasionally glancing back.

“I, I didn’t,” he stutters. “Where are we going?”

“You know where we can just get away from the crowd and maybe get some air?” She asks while scanning the place.

“Yes, I actually do. Follow me!”

Dieter stealthily navigates them both to a section for employees only and out through a back alleyway. She looks behind them and when she sees that nobody has followed them, she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Phew! Thank you so much,” she says to him.

“No problem. So who or what were we running away from back there?” Dieter asks her.

“What are you talking about?” She asks calmly.

“You wanted to get the hell out of there and you kept looking back like you’re checking to see if anyone was following us.”

She ignores his observation, walking off a few feet away to put some distance between them as she takes out a cigarette from her clutch.

“Are you in danger?” Dieter asks.

She scoffs and lets out a chuckle.

“No, nothing dramatic like that,” she responds right before she lights her cigarette and takes a drag.

He notices she doesn’t have a wristband or any visible credentials.

“Are you even supposed to be at this party?” He asks her with narrow eyes.

Suddenly the door swings open, knocking into Dieter and preventing it from opening further. He moves aside and pokes his head around the door.

“Hey, sorry, buddy. Did you happen to see a woman with long dark hair about this tall come out this way? She has on like a long shiny dress?”

“Uhhh…” Dieter glances around the alleyway on both sides and briefly notices the woman hiding behind the door with her back against the brick wall, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.

“I mean, that could be anyone here,” Dieter responds to the man with a small smirk. “But no, I didn’t.” He shakes his head to underline his confirmation.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks with slight suspicion, noticing his uniform. “Shouldn’t you be inside working?”

“I’m just taking a break,” he shrugs.

The woman quietly offers Dieter her lit cigarette behind the door and he takes it from her without raising any alarms.

“A smoke break.” He shows the man the cigarette in his hand before taking a puff himself.

“Well, make it quick. if you see anyone matching that description, please let me know.”

And with that, he hands Dieter his business card.

“Will do, sir!” Dieter nods to him as he takes the card.

Dieter watches the man walk back into the building, and when he is completely out of sight, he looks over to where she is and notices she has started to tiptoe away.

“He’s gone,” Dieter tells her.

She stops in her tracks and turns around.

“Thank you for that. I really appreciate it.” She claps her hands together.

“You owe him some money or something?” Dieter asks, slowly walking towards her while taking another pull of her cigarette.

“Mm, I guess it depends on who you ask,” she replies coyly.

“What does that mean?” He tilts his head curiously.

After what he did for her, she feels she owes him at least an explanation.

“We had just met a few hours ago and I charmed him enough to sneak into this party but I got bored halfway in. I thought I’d be able to rub elbows with some important people, but turns out he doesn’t really know those important people here and if you don’t know anyone, you’d be lucky to even get to say just hi to the people everyone wants to talk to, so I dressed my best for nothing,” she replies.

Dieter checks the business card that was handed to him and it reads:

“Lights, Camera, Catering

Abner Bailey Jones

CEO”

“Shit, I think that was my boss,” Dieter laughs. “But that still doesn’t explain why he’s looking for you and why you’re avoiding him.”

“My guess is he’s expecting something in return for him getting me into the party,” she shrugs.

“Oooh,” he simply replies. “Wait a minute. So you got all glammed up and came here not knowing if you were going to get into the premiere?” He asks.

“You gotta fake it ‘til you make it, right?” She shrugs again as she struts back to him and takes her cigarette back. “So you ever gonna tell me your name? You can call me Beatrice.”

She takes a long drag while waiting for his answer.

“Dieter. My stage name," he explains. "It's a nickname my family gave me when I was a kid because I couldn't pronounce theater correctly which I loved going to all the time and it came out sounding like Dieter and it just stuck. The movie theater is where my passion for acting started."

“Of course you’re an actor. What’s your real name?" 

Dieter doesn't answer, but simply flashes a cheeky smirk at her, his dimple creasing deeper into his face.

"Hmm, suddenly so mysterious. Nice to meet you, Dieter.” Beatrice extends her gloved hand out and Dieter shakes it.

“You’re new in town, aren't you?" she asks curiously then drops the cigarette butt on the asphalt.

"Not really. I moved here about six months ago."

"Six months only? Oh, you are new in town," she comments. "Practically a tourist."

"Really?" he asks with a tilt to his head. “What makes you say that?"

"Your eagerness. You still got that sparkle in your eyes. You haven’t been jaded by Hollywood yet.”

“And you have, I suppose?”

Beatrice shrugs and flashes an award-winning smile, her turn to be a little mysterious. Her blood red lips make her perfect teeth even brighter.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here? Got a place we can go to just like, hang out?” she asks.

Dieter looks around to make sure she was talking to him and then stares back at her like a deer in headlights.

“M-me? You wanna hang out with me?” He points to his own chest, shocked.

“Yeah, why does that surprise you?”

“I mean you… you look like that,” he points to her dress. “And well…” He then gestures his hands to himself.

“You look like a star. I just didn’t think women who look like you would want anything to do with people who look like me,” he replies.

“It’s that kinda thinking that makes me want to hang out with you even more. You’re not full of yourself. You seem like a cool guy, Dieter.”

Dieter’s face flushes. “Thank you. You seem super cool too. Like way cooler than me. Oh! My shift ends in…” he glances at his watch. “Maybe another hour.”

“Oh, come on, Dieter!”

Dieter sighs, stuck between staying for the party or going with this beautiful woman in front of him.

“You’re not gonna leave a damsel all in distress, are you?” Beatrice fakes an exaggerated pout while batting her hazel eyes.

“You have a habit of following around strangers?” He teases.

“Strangers? You and me? No. You lied for me and basically saved my life. You’re practically my savior,” she corrects him.

“Saved your life? I thought you weren’t in any danger. ‘Nothing dramatic like that’, I believe you said,” he jabs back.

“You saved me from dying of boredom,” she smirks and it draws a small laugh out of Dieter. “So what do you say, hero?”

Dieter chews on his lower lip as he weighs his options.

“Come on, you really wanna work this boring party? I’m pretty sure half the cast left already,” she gripes. “Oh, I also got…”

Beatrice fishes inside her clutch and pulls out a small baggie.

“Weed! I don’t know if you indulge, but I’m willing to share,” she tempts him as she dangles the baggie. “We can chill out and talk about the movie or whatever.”

After a few more moments, he finally makes a decision.

“Wait right here. I’ll be right back,” Dieter tells her right before he rushes back inside.

“Yes!” Beatrice exclaims enthusiastically.

A few minutes later, Dieter returns with his bag and bike.

“My coworker’s gonna cover for me. She owes me a favor,” Dieter says.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s gonna fit the both of us, especially not while wearing this.” She points out her delicate gown. “Let’s hail a cab!”

***

After grabbing some tacos off a street cart, they end up back at his place.

"I don't think my roommate is home. He went to some party downtown,” Dieter says while giving her a quick tour of his apartment.

When they finally reach his messy bedroom, she notices the canvases sprawled throughout.

"You're an artist?” Beatrice asks while admiring the art.

"I dabble in paint whenever I have the time,” he shrugs. “Which sometimes is a lot,” he laughs.

"Your style is interesting. What do you have going on here?" She asks, pointing to a canvas with splotches of color on it.

"I don't know yet. I just paint whatever comes to my mind." He stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs as he walks over to the painting.

"Whenever I get inspired, I just..." He vaguely gestures his hand to the half empty white surface. "I have to admit, many of them have been under the influence," he laughs.

"Oh, yeah? What's your poison of choice?" she asks, suddenly very interested.

“Well, usually just some marijuana. That one was actually a result of the first time I tried mushrooms.” Dieter points to a different painting.

“Have you ever tried cocaine?”

“That’s a rich man’s candy,” Dieter replies, shaking his head.

“I can get some for us,” she offers. “I know someone.”

“You have that kind of money?” He asks curiously with a raised brow, inching closer to her.

“Money isn’t the only currency there is, especially out here in Hollywood."

Dieter studies her for a few moments trying to understand what she could mean.

“A-are you… do you…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question without possibly offending her.

“No, I’m not a prostitute if that’s what you’re going to ask,” she chuckles. "But you wouldn't be the first person to think that."

"I'm not judging." He puts his hands up in defense. "Everyone's gotta do whatever they can to survive."

"Especially out here in the wild, wild West. People are nice to each other, but in the end it's everyone for themselves." She tips her head to him.

"I wish you success but also hope I get the role instead of you, ha ha ha,” she mocks with an obvious fake laugh and then rolls her eyes. "So much ego."

“Ouch. Sounds like you've been burned before.” Dieter walks over to her.

"Yeah, but I have thick skin. You've gotta have that to be in this game. You've gotta grow one after the umpteenth rejection. Or even worse, having to suck it up and reject a role because you refuse to suck a dick for it— a background role at that. You mind?" She pulls out a joint and the corner of his lips turn up.

“Not if you share," he replies.

She lights it up and after taking a pull, she hands it to him.

"Can't say I've had the opportunity to suck a dick for a role yet," he chuckles before taking a hit.

"Oh, trust me, you will. There is no discrimination. Women might get it more often, but there are definitely men who have fucked to get a role as well."

“I should be, but why am I not surprised?” he chimes in.

“Enough of all this talk. It’s bringing the mood down. Oh, I’ve got an idea!” she says, taking a drag of the joint as she lays down on his bed. “Draw me like one of your French girls.”

"Are you for real?" he asks.

"Yes, I am." She takes another drag and passes the joint back to him before starting to strip down.

Dieter is shocked and speechless. He is in awe as he watches her remove her clothes until she's down to her lacy underwear. Her braless breasts hang freely as she lays down on her side, just like Rose did.

“Are you just gonna stare at me all night or do you need more drugs?” she asks him after a few moments.

“I’m just admiring the art that’s already in front of me,” he replies before taking another toke of the joint.  “Not sure if any amount of drugs will do it any justice.”

“You’re sweet,” she comments as warmth rises to her face. “But I wanna see what you see. As they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Dieter continues to study her for a few more seconds before finally nodding.

“Alright. I think I got something.”

He passes the joint back to her and with that, Dieter starts squeezing some paint onto his palette, mixing colors and spreading them on the canvas. His dark round eyes dart around her face and body, taking in the image in front of him and then finally scraping some paint onto the canvas to spit out what his mind is processing.

She can’t see what he’s doing but notices he’s using a lot of different colors and broad strokes. After about ten minutes of this, a wide smirk plays on his face.

“What? Do I look silly like a Picasso or something?” She asks.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I just can’t believe the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met is naked on my bed, asking me to paint her.”

“You don’t get a lot of women getting naked in your bed for a portrait?” She teases before taking another drag and passing it on to Dieter.

“No,” he laughs, taking a pull of his own.

“Although, I’m not quite naked yet.” Beatrice slides off the bed and struts towards him. “Let me see what you’ve got so far.”

“No, no, it’s not quite finished—“

She takes a peek despite his protests and the breath is knocked out of her.

“Dieter, this is…” She’s at a loss for words.

“Yeah, I know, it’s… it’s really rough and—”

“This is beautiful!” She turns to him.

It’s a somewhat abstract piece with globs of paint spackled onto the canvas. He highlighted the soft features of her face and how her tendrils of long curls hung off her head. Her bright red lips pop out against the browns, beiges and yellows behind it. A splash of blue and green in the background pulls her away from the canvas. While her body isn’t complete yet, the simple and rough outline he laid out seemed intentional. If he hadn’t said anything, she would have thought he was finished.

“Thank you, you’re kind.” His face heats up as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I mean it, Dieter. Seriously! You have a gift.”

Dieter is now the one speechless. His face starts to get warm and pink.

“But maybe you need a closer look to finish this painting. Catch the details you might have missed.”

Beatrice proceeds to push her panties down until they hit the floor, which made his jaw do that as well. She then takes the joint from him, takes a big hit and straddles his lap. Leaning in, her lips graze his as she opens her mouth. He opens up his own and sucks in the smoke into his lungs. After a moment, their lips meet and they begin to make out, working up to fog his windows.

***

When Dieter wasn't at an audition or waiting on people, he spent most of his time with Beatrice. They'd sneak into movie theaters to catch a flick, especially when they were playing classics, which they both appreciated, but many times they ended up making out instead. Sometimes they'd take long strolls along the Santa Monica pier while smoking weed. At some point, she introduced him to cocaine and whatever drugs she was able to get her hands on, and in turn he would churn out pieces of art while admiring her, his muse.

They did almost everything together. They laughed, cried, loved, and tripped together. They even went on auditions together and supported each other in preparing for them. He had such a strong connection with her, sharing the same passions and navigating life together in this crazy movie town. He thought he found his soulmate.

It was the best time of his life. He was living his own Hollywood movie and he felt like he was at the top of the world, just like Jack Dawson, but he then learned he’s no Leonardo DiCaprio. As quickly as he got high on all this, the crash came down just as fast.

"I don't understand," Dieter says, confused.

"You don't make friends in this business, Dieter. You make transactions and deals."

"Wow," he could only muster up with wide eyes. "What about relationships? Friendships? Do you have any connection - a genuine connection - with anyone?"

"The only connections I need are transactional. I give something in exchange for something else, whether it be for survival, pleasure or power."

He scrubs a hand over his face and studies her for a few moments.

"So what was I? What did you get in exchange for... for whatever this is?" Dieter asks, waving his hand between them.

"You had a good time, right?" she shrugs as she throws a small smile.

"This was more than just a good time for me," Dieter shoots back with air quotes. "I-I thought we had something special. We talked about making it in Hollywood together!”

"Oh, honey..." she frowns and reaches for his face, but he flinches, pulling away from her and walking off.

"How do you-- how can you--" Dieter takes a deep breath to compose himself.

"Hollywood is going to eat you alive, sweetheart. You're not cut out for this place," Beatrice shakes her head.

"No," Dieter shakes his head. "You get one fucking role and then you think you're too good for me?"

"It's nothing personal," she explains. "I'm just playing by the rules. I didn't create them. And once I'm in, like in in, I can help maybe you get your foot in too."

Dieter is speechless. He just stares at her with misty eyes and brows turned down, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I don’t need your charity or… or your fucking connections! Did you have to suck a dick for that role?”

She looks back at him in disgust and scoffs.

“No need to be rude. I earned that role,” she replies with her arms crossed.

“That’s not a no,” he retorts.

“Whatever. I don’t need to explain myself,” she huffs. “Look, I just came to tell you I can’t see you anymore and to pick up my things and say goodbye.”

Dieter just stares at her again, trying to process what is unfolding as the reality sinks in.

“Just go. Take your shit and go,” he simply says.

After she gathers her things, she takes one more glance at him.

“Goodbye, Dieter.”

When he doesn’t respond, she finally walks out the door, leaving Dieter to cry alone and pick up the broken pieces of his heart.

[jellyfishsthings]

Warnings: this is going to be a multi part series and it's going to be angsty cause I am in my feels. Female reader, Padmé and Anakin were together but had a healthy break up, Jedi reader so forbidden love

This story takes plays in Clone Wars yet many events have been changed (like the meeting of Ashoka and Anakin... don't worry the sibling energy is still there.)

series masterlist

I head towards my room. The walk there feels like an eternity. When I finally reach the familiar doors, I slip inside. I remove the damned dress haphazardly as I head towards the shower. I let the cold water envelop me, trying to remove the tension from my shoulders since my usual scalding hot shower routine will not calm me.

After a while, I got out and dressed myself in a long T-shirt and tucked myself under the heavy duvet. My eyes flutter close, exhaustion taking over my senses despite my nap on the ship that was rudely interrupted. Yet, my mind is clouded. Padmé's words resurfaced. "You are made for each other." Yeah sure… as much as I want it to be true, there is no way there is no chance for the two of us. And so I will myself to sleep, and I let myself dream of what we could be.

I dream of him.

Dawn finds me still in my bed for the first time in forever. Today is what I call a "slow" day because I don't have to do anything. So I bury myself under the comfort of my pillow and my comforter, and I stay there for at least one more hour, doing absolutely nothing. Yet my body craves movement, and I can't stay still anymore. I throw on my robes and head towards the cafeteria, where chaos erupts.

"But Master-" a young feminine voice calls and is interrupted by a much louder one.

"I am not your Master, girlie. There has to be some kind of mistake." Anakin's voice booms and echoes through the hall. Causing laughter from all the other current residents of the Temple.

"What is happening? " I whisper to Obi-Wan as I enter the room.

"Anakin has a Padawan. A much… stubborn one." He says, chuckling.

A young girl stands across from my friend with arms crossed and a scowl. Anakin wears a similar stance and expression. I calmly get closer to them.

"Ani. Won't you introduce me to your friend?"

He draws an annoyed breath, trying to maintain his composure.

"My name is Ashoka."

"Nice to meet you, Ashoka. Were you shown your room yet, and your new clothes?"

"No, because skyguy over here …"

"Don't call me that." Anakin snaps, and I try to stifle a laugh. "Not you, too."

"She's funny."

"She's overly sarcastic, mean, arrogant and… why are you smiling like that?"

"Oh, how the tables turn."

"What do you - No."

"Oh yes." I say and smirk at him, waiting for his response. It never comes, at least not directly.

"Come on, Snips. Let's have a tour of the Temple." He says with an exaggerated sigh. And I beam at the nickname Snips. He is already invested even if he shows clear dislike to her … for now. I wink at the young Padawan, and she smiles at me as they leave the room.

I find Obi-Wan slacking at the corner table, watching me with a knowing smile. I serve some French toast on a tray, and I join him. A comfortable silence enveloped us as we ate.

"May I ask you something?" He says after a while.

"Of course Master Kenobi."

"Drop the formalities, firecracker. Will you join me in the meditation ring? I am afraid my usual partner is rather occupied. "

"Of course."

And so we leave our trays in the washing compartment, and head towards the meditation ring. Our outer robes are removed as we sit across each other, and we cross our legs, placing our hands above our knees facing upwards and straightening our backs. Our eyes flutter close as we let ourselves delve into the Force; we let our spirits travel miles and miles away. Soon, I feel something resisting my mind's borders, trying to slip inside, and I gently push it back. This goes back and forth for a while, and Obi-Wan is a great opponent in this as it turns out. We are both out of breath and sweat collects above my brows.

"The Force is strong with you. You have great power in you, and you use it wisely. Your constraint and maturity proceeds your age. "

"Thank you, Master."

"Yet you wear your emotions, much like Anakin. Especially with Anakin."

"Well, of course, he is my friend."

"That is not what I mean, and you know it. I have raised you both. I know what I see. Your feelings for each other are obvious, at least to me. The council forbids any kind of attachment." He says calmly. "I think they are wrong. Attachment is what makes us stronger; it is what gives us hope."

"You mean -"

"I do not think anything, kiddo. You are too smart for your own good. I have faith that you will figure it out. And dismiss any thoughts of leaving the Order; he is not complete without you."

I stayed still in my place, baffled at his words, as he kindly smiled at me and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

My thoughts are tangled knots for the rest of the day. Every loose string I find makes the mess even more complicated. Every task I try to do is left unfinished, I give up on the thought of a productive day, leaving reports unread on my desk and I head towards the training room.

I hijacked the sound system of the room and I put my one and most prized possession into the old pick up I once found on a black market. Loud music fills the room and I head towards the center of the arena. I position myself in a fighting stance and I let my body get lost in the music as I repeat fighting routines. Hours could have past or mere minutes before a small body appears next to me trying to copy me. I flinch as she gets close to a striking distance.

"You are awesome. Why can't you be my Master and not Sir Grumpypants?"

"I wouldn't know Ashoka."

"Master speaks very highly of you."

"Ashoka what the hell are you doing?" Anakin yells as he lets the doors slam behind him. I roll my eyes at his dramatic entrance and his antics. "Go back to your room."

"But you said-"

"Now. I won't say this twice." And so Ashoka leaves with a long, suffering sigh. After she is out of the doors I turn towards my friend.

"You didn't have to be so stern with her."

"Don't criticize me." He buries his hand in his hair, tugging at the roots as he whispers. "What am I supposed to do? She is just a child and I have to turn her into a warrior? The war is raging and-"

"Breathe. Just breathe." I say as I encircle him with my arms, hugging him tightly trying to calm his panicked breathing.

"I can't do it. I won't." He mutters over and over as tears slip down his face.

"You can and you will. You have to."

"I know." His lips move against the skin of my neck, forming the words but never saying them out loud. "You will help right? I am so lost."

"Yeah, this is what friends are for."

"Yeah, friends." He repeats sadly.

Friends. The sound of it is bitter and it sits badly at our tongues, since we are both too afraid to face the truth.

words: 1.277

[powerfultenderness]

Adrian Chase x Reader masterlist

[AO3] [Multi-fandom masterlist]

One shots:

Longing (F!Reader) Uh-Oh (F!Reader) I got it! (GN!Reader) Proof (GN!Reader) Draw me like one of your French Girls (GN!Reader) Personal Assassin (GN!Reader) Just wanna hear you laugh (GN!Reader) Friday the 13th (GN!Reader) Arm-wrestling (F!Reader) Bad Dreams (F!Reader) Dare (GN!Reader) Marry Me? (GN!Reader) If I Live (GN!Reader) A Scene (GN!Reader) Some Things Are Hard (Gn!Reader) ABC (Gn!Reader) Magic Adrian (Gn!Reader) Purr (GN!Vampire!Reader) Babydoll (afab!Reader) Full Moon Favor (GN!Werewolf!Reader) Don’t You Get It? (GN!Reader) Maid To Kill (GN!Reader) An Odd Couple (GN!Reader) Bad Blood (GN!Vampire!Reader x Vampire Hunter!Vigilante) Rex (GN!Reader)  Be Mine (F!Reader. Smut 18+. Warnings: dub-con, non-con)  Jealous (F!Reader. Smut 18+)

Series:

He’s totally NOT my pretend boyfriend: Fake dating with Adrian Chase/Vigilante. Rated: T+

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Where I Belong: Adrian’s ex turns to him, to Vigilante, for help in dealing with an abusive partner. (gn!Reader) Rated M; mature themes. Warnings: abuse, manipulation, hints of suicidal ideation, canon typical violence, sexual situations including outdoor/public and choking. 

Worlds Apart 

Your Monster 

Try It 

Date Night: Murder and Movie

[noahl-art]

Hi!

Don't get me wrong, I don't mean it I don't like your art or anything. Really really sorry if it sounds rude, I'm just interested. So.. Are there any cis ghouls? I've just often seen you draw different ghouls as transgender.

I was just wondering about your headcanons about it and stuff..

Hey anon! 😊

No worries! As long as questions like that are asked respectfully and without bad intentions, I don't mind at all!

To be honest I don't really know 🤷 I don't have any fixed headcanons about their genders... I just vibe with it depending on what I feel like drawing! Which most of the time means they'll end up trans because that's what makes me really happy to draw!

It's more that I've spent a good part of my life drawing cis characters, and I've grown bored of it. So now, I just go full force and draw what I wish to see more represented, trans moments of joy and love, this warm feeling of community... And the ghouls just happen to be a very good vessel for these kinds of things! ✨

As always with these kind of asks I'll leave you with an extract that I love! It's by Hanneli Victoire a french transmasc author and journalist. It has been roughly translated via Deepl and corrected by my french ass so sorry if it's a bit cluncky! It's a bit long but very worth it! (link to the full french post on instagram)

The more I eat up feminist and lesbian theory, the more I understand that we don't exist. To be a man, a guy, a trans guy, a transmasculine or non-binary person is to look for yourself wherever possible, and to find yourself nowhere. Transmasculinity is a complete unthought issue in feminism, a question that is swept under the rug because no one knows what we're talking about. When you're a kid, you've got Hilary Swank getting murdered in Boys Don't Cry and not much else to tell us that being trans is shame, shit and death. Who wants to go through Preciado's or Bourcier's books to find mirrors of themselves? Who knows that Stone Butch Blues exists and that this book saves lives, even though it's far removed from activist circles? There's no space for us among lesbians, feminists, cis men or even queers. Once you've abandoned the idea of the definitive "she", and you're oscillating between "he", "they" or "it" and sometimes even a bit of "she", sexuality is a laughing matter. What are we becoming? Straight, lesbian, gay, transgender? There's nothing that really fits, and above all, we're attacked as soon as we dare to assert one or the other, because in any case, straight, queer, bi or transgender is not for us, and our bullshit erases the real holders of the title. Transmasc we're kicking up a fuss, because no one expected us to turn up in such numbers, or that we'd be in the vanguard of blowing up the hegemonic masculinities. That we'd be 1.50m tall, with huge breasts, long hair, a craving for make-up, dresses and heels, and that we'd grab the whole world by the collar and say "he" without looking down. Let's be proud of that. Of breaking down the "gender" category, and profoundly changing the face of oppression and struggle with our bodies that make everything go haywire. We're going to knock it out of the park, and we're not going to apologise. Saying, "Yes, but it's not just girls" at 100% of feminist meetings, events and speeches, and forcing people to add the cis prefix when talking about the men who ruin everything. And we know when we look like rude jerks wearing a cap, a mask or a hoodie, when we're called "sir" and we don't dare speak up because we don't want to get burnt. And we know when we have to deal T, find vial leftovers, hold hands during injections, support each other during shortages. And we know when we're sharing the names of psychiatrists, endocrinologists and surgeons to do our top surgery. And we know when it's time to start a fund-raising campaign to remind ourselves that we're beautiful, and to help each other find a new name. We know. With our non-muscular bodies, our squashed tits, our mini moustaches, our voices that go off the rails, our scars on our torsos, our outbursts when we cut our hair and our hips that are too wide. We know when we've been told to get lost, that we're scary, that we've become too masculine, that T has made us freaks, that we've joined the oppressors' camp. We know when we're in relationships with dykes, straights or fags and no one understands what kind of couple we are. We know when we date each other and no one understands, because T4T is like nothing we've ever known and we're even more exposed that way. Violence everywhere, transmasc nowhere. And yet, every time I needed help, every time I wasn't feeling well, a transmasc person was there to offer me a hand. Solidarity is in our blood, because there's nowhere else to go. Hanneli Victoire - "Transmasc, a kick in the ant hill"

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Wednesday, November 22

GILES: I was a librarian for years. This is exactly the same, except people pay for the things they don't return. It'll give me focus. Increase my resources. And it'll prevent you lot from trampling all over my flat at all hours. There may even be some space for you to train in the back. BUFFY: Boy, you've really thought this through. How bored were you last year? GILES: I watched "Passions" with Spike. Let us never speak of it.

~~BtVS 5x02 “Real Me”~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Invasion Of Privacy (Buffy, Ted, Joyce, Angel, PG) by badly_knitted

make me hazy (Giles/Jenny, M) by CallMeVampy

Fledgeling Take Flight (Jenny Calendar, Phantom xover, T) by arcanedreamer

Not a Dark Prince (Angel, Spike, G) by Stand with Ward and Queen

[French language] Vampire hollywoodienne (Buffy/Faith, T) by Friday Queen

[Chaptered Fiction]

Breathe Again, Chapter 12/17 (Angel/Cordelia, M) by Califi62

New Blood, Chapter 7 (Xander, Naruto crossover, T) by danu40k

With Arms Wide Open, Chapters 13-14 (Buffy/Giles, E) by jaybird023

Days of Future Past, Chapter 31/34 (Buffy/OC, Angel/OC, Buffy/Angel, M) by a2zmom

New York, Chapter 19 (Giles/Xander, M) by drsquidlove

"The Sky's Gonna Open", Chapter 6 (Lindsey/OC, T) by lindseymcdonaldseyelashes

A Call From Beyond, Chapter 3/7 (Ensemble, G) by CoffeeMilkLuvr

I'm Only Your Darkness, Chapter 11 (Buffy/Faith, E) by Karnstein99

Moments that Make You: The Hero and The Princess, Chapter 93 (Cordelia/Doyle, T) by myheadsgonenumb

Between The Shadow & The Soul, Chapter 3 (Angel/OC, T) by dreamingshores

Spiderwebs, Chapter 43 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Willow25

The Transfer, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Blackmysteria

Fates Intertwined: A Second Chance, Chapter 7 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Spikelover4ever

The Vision Quest, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by acb6293

Encased by Sunshine, Chapter 29 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by acb6293

Buffy’s Spooky Birthday, Chapter 6 (Buffy/Spike, R) by VeroNyxK84

What the Drabble?, Chapter 44 (Buffy/Spike, R) by VeroNyxK84

Encased in Sunshine, Chapter 30 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Acb6293

Twice Broken, Thrice Burnt, Chapter 19 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by ClowniestLivEver

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Here’s a fun old one of the Master!! (drawing, worksafe) by foul-sorcery

Tattoo: [Tattoo design with BtVS quote from "The Gift"] (worksafe) by tattoos4mnd via tattoos4mnd

Gifset: PASSION is the source of our finest moments. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear (Wesley/Lilah, slightly NSFW) by gothamstreetcat

Video: D&D | Podcast | Q&A | Buffy the Vampire Slayer by It's A Mimic!

[Reviews & Recaps]

*SHOULD I BE LAUGHING!?* Buffy the Vampire Slayer S5 Ep 11 "Triangle" Reaction: FIRST TIME WATCHING by Nick Reacts

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER 6X12 REACTION | First Time Watching by EvilQK

EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Reaction - 3X8 - "Lovers Walk" ( Buffy Reaction ) by Java Java Reactions

Zombies and Reunions! | Buffy The Vampire Slayer 3x2 'Dead Man's Party' | Blind Reaction by Vic

Season 3 Begins! // Buffy the Vampire Slayer Episode 3x01 Reaction // Buffy is My Hero! by Brooke Whipple

PODCAST: Buffy Season 8: Part 3 by Buffy the Gilmore Slayer: A Buffy and Gilmore Girls Podcast

[Recs]

spuffy fic rec, pt.2 recced by louisandjade

[Fandom Discussions]

buffy season four will give you whiplash any time they cut from one romantic subplot to another by idkaguyorsomething

With all my Bangel VS Cangel talk recently it probably does come across like I hate Bangel. This isn’t true by girl4music

And I don’t hate Angel. Not anymore. I never really did actually by girl4music

Do any of yall think about how in Something Blue, Buffy tells Riley shes getting married to a guy named Spike and plays it off as ‘a joke.’ by spikes-left-eyebrow

Rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and today’s new issue with the show is how Buffy is the “chosen” one who has no say in the matter by jenny-from-the-box

Would you like a SMG celebrity memoir? by Taake

The Nature of Willow's "Dark Magic" in Season Six by American Aurora, multiple posters

What Would a Buffy the Vampire Slayer Revival Look Like? - A MLC Retrospective by MyLoveableCrayon

Yet another “Dead Man’s Party” thread: how would you have fixed it? by squidwardsaclarinet

Am I the only one that wishes they kept the more “case of the week” noir style of season 1 and 2 by SignificantBerry3837

Wrong answers only: What did Spike whisper in April the Robot's ear that she threw him out a window? by jdpm1991

Watching Buffy again- changed my opinion on Riley by EyCeeDedPpl

Xander as a character has not aged well or society has just evolved by Jockwarrior

Tired of the fandom? by Upbeat_Tone_2710

Would a high caliber bullet to the heart kill a vamp? by TheEbolaArrow

Everyone talks about the best and the worst… by duvet-cover

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

[moonspirit]

HELLO BAE!! HOW ARE YOU?? So i have been reading fort salta for quite some time now and I came across a video about jean not having time to indulge in his hobbies because of him being a cadet and all. But imagine fort salta series post rumbling jean buying art materials and finally having some peace of mind to draw and paint. A small step towards a peaceful life dont you think?😭❤️

Hello anon! I'm hanging on, how are you? :3

A post-rumbling Jean finding and indulging in a few hobbies is very heartening T^T And painting definitely seems like the kind of thing he'd like to do; it's a skill that can leave a lasting impression with people, and I can just see him standing on a breezy hill with an easel and canvas, sketching and painting serenely. He definitely deserves it, considering the way he's grown and matured over the length of the series. Give him some peace and quiet, yes T^T

On a wilder tangent tho - One day someone might come along and say "Jean, paint me like one of your french girls" xD