#i DID meet girls that looked exactly like my portraits

[manqo]

this is so funny i’ve only ever taken my shot at girls i never do shit w boys

[writers-hes]

Growing Pains | c. berzatto x reader

A broken promise between friends hangs heavy in the Chicago air. He was haunted by a loss, seeking refuge in the city he never considered home. She was a wisp of stardust who finds herself back in the city she always considered home. A rent-dispute sets the stage for them to meet again, only to realize that dreams, both realized and abandoned, are so much brighter when you’re younger. (trauma, mentions of alcoholism, sexual harrassment, angst, some bad words…) A/N: This is entirely different from my other fics and I hope that you enjoy it. I really do.

MASTER LISTS TAGLIST “I want to become an artist,” That was what nine year old Carmen Bezatto told you when you asked him what his dream was. He was shy and kept to himself. You were different. You were magnetic and the boys in class all had a crush on you. The teachers loved you and the girls from the higher years doted on you. 

“I want to become an actress or a singer,” you confessed, sitting beside him. The crayon that he was holding was blue and he set it down. “What are you drawing?”

“A car,” You peered over his shoulder. 

“You’re really good Carmen,” 

“Carmy,” he whispered, his heart beating fast. You look at him in confusion. “Call me Carmy,”

“Why do you want to become an artist?” you asked him. You were looking at the drawing of spaghetti and meatballs on his sketchpad. He drew it with a crayon. 

“It’s what I’m good at,” he shrugged. “I’m not good with words but I’m good at this. Why do you wanna become an actress?”

“I want people to love me! I want to be so rich and buy my mom everything she needs. I want to star in movies. I can also cry on command. See?” you asked. He watches you clench your eyebrows and wobble your lip. Soon the first tear falls. He’s never been so mesmerized by another person before. 

“Carmy,”

“Hm?”

“Let’s promise to achieve our dreams and revisit this place after we’ve done it,” you said, sticking out your pinky for him. He beams at you, the rare smiles he gives and intertwines his pinky with you. 

“I promise,”

You two made unlikely friends. Carmy was still on the sidelines when he reached high school while you were still in the spotlight. You joined theater. Carmy was sure there were some who still harbored feelings for you. Who wouldn’t? You were the same magnetic, charismatic, charming girl he knew from childhood. Everyone was so sure that you’re on your path to become an actress. 

“Carmy!” He turns around and sees you rushing towards him with a smile on your face. You loop your arm with his and walk to the next class together. “You didn’t wait for me,”

“Sorry,” he chuckles lightly, seeing you pout. “You were just talking to some guys and I didn’t want to just stand there,” 

“Sorry,” 

“It’s okay,” he looks at you.

“I saw you talking to Claire,” you teased. He told you once that he had a crush on her. “What did you guys talk about?”

“She just asked me about homework,” he says looking away.

“You’re so cute, Carmy!” you gushed, pinching his cheek with your free hand. He blushes harder. He should be used to such remarks by now.

“Let’s just go to class,”

-

“Wait, hold that pose,” he says. School ended and he found you sleeping at the library. He decided to sit in front of you until you woke up. The sun was already setting and it seeped through the windows of the library.

“Huh?” you asked. You were craning your neck to the side to stretch it. 

“Hold that pose. I’m sketching,” You look at the paper and the pencil in front of him. “I’m trying to draw different angles,”

“Alright,” you replied. You stayed like that until Carmy says that it’s alright. You watched him draw more details and add more shadows. “You’re really good…but why do I have a mustache?”

“It’s called hatching,” he chuckled. “But it looks like a mustache,” He erases some shades and shows you his sketch. “I know it’s not good…”

“It’s good!” You snatch the piece of paper from him and hold up the portrait beside you. “See? Looks exactly like me,”

“Your nose is crooked,”

“Carmy!” you pouted. He laughed, his curls falling down his face as he hid his smile from you. Your heart beats fast and you look at him. It was your first time actually taking him in. He is beautiful.

“Let’s go home?” he asked after laughing. He tries to take the drawing from you but you snatch it away. 

“This is mine as a punishment for saying that my nose is crooked!” you told him, opening the folder that you were sleeping on. He tries to chase it but you keep it. 

“I’ll give you a better one!”

“I like this,” you told him earnestly, keeping the folder in your backpack. “When you’re a really famous artist, I’ll sell it for a really expensive price! From Carmen Anthony Berzatto’s earlier work. Come on, Carmy! Let’s get out of here. You promised to walk me home today,” he heard you say. He stands up from his seat and waits for you. He takes your lunchbox for you as usual. Dede likes to cook your and Carmy’s lunches. She makes him bring your lunchbox home. Carmy thinks that she’s just making sure that you’ll still be his friend. 

The walk home was usual, your and Carmy’s lunches on either hands, you trying to catch up on his steps no matter how much he tried to slow down. Carmy walks you home and you thank him, hugging him to the side before leaving. You watch him walk away from your window. 

-

Looking back, you and Carmy had always been close. However, sometime in your senior year, you watched him pull himself away from you. It was quick. It felt like someone plucked a rib from you. It was painful. One day, he just decided not to talk to you as much. He doesn’t wait for you during theater practice anymore and he hasn’t been walking home with you. You’d always be walking home, alone. Carmy wasn’t there anymore. 

“Carmy, can we talk?” you asked, running after him when he ignored you again. You look up at him with sad eyes and he just looks away.

“For what?”

“Oh, well—I just…” you stammered. You looked at his sweater instead of his face. “I just wanted to know if everything’s fine?”

“It is,” He shrugs you off like you didn’t matter. 

“Oh,” 

You nod to yourself, looking away. What else was there to say? 

“Um, do you…do you want to walk together?” you asked. 

“No,”

Your heart drops and you swallow thickly. He hears you whisper something that he doesn’t remember anymore. All he knew was that he felt like absolute shit. His mom has been drinking more, Mikey was pushing him away, Richie was giving him a hard time, and Sugar locked herself in her room most of the time. He hasn’t been thinking straight and his home environment was just so draining that he forgot to reserve some of his energy for you. You leave without waiting for him to reply. He watches you run away from him. He should’ve ran after you that afternoon.

The day after that, Carmy thought of seeking you out. He wanted to apologize for how he behaved the past couple of days. He wanted to tell you everything but you were nowhere to be seen. 

You returned to school a week after that due to a family emergency. He lost his courage by then. The teachers were kind enough to give you extra credit and you aced them all because soon, you were getting acceptance letters from colleges. When you were younger, you and Carmy both agreed to go to the same university that offered the courses you wanted to major in. You both agreed to go to the same college and rent an apartment together. You were just about to knock on the Berzattos’ door to ask Carmy if your plan would still push through. What Dede said broke your heart, though. 

“He didn’t tell you? He left for Copenhagen last night. He got a scholarship from Noma!” she excitedly told you. She blows smoke away from you and your face falters. You shook it off though and decided to congratulate Dede. You emailed Carmy that night but he never replied.  You remembered during graduation when Carmy’s family asked you to have a picture with him. You both stood awkwardly as Dede, oblivious as ever, clicked on the shutter multiple times. Sugar felt uncomfortable and looked for your mom but she was nowhere to be seen. Mikey and Richie were giggling among themselves as usual. You went home with a defeated sigh. The acceptance letter in your hand was clenched tightly. You remembered how you and Carmy filled up the forms together. He was fussing over every detail while you laughed at him. Where did it all go wrong?

Your hand shook when you sat on your bed. You couldn’t even celebrate the fact that you were going to college—that you were about to pursue your dreams. 

-

The first person that Carmy wanted to talk to after learning about Michael’s death was you. 

He didn’t give himself the time to cry over him; just like how he didn’t give himself the time to cry over his mistake of leaving you without saying anything. Mikey always told him that he was weak because he was sensitive and was in tune with his emotions. He didn’t know that he always had to have to guard up at his own home because he was scared of what his mom and brother might do next.

When he arrived in Chicago for the first time in years, his heart dropped. You weren’t there to pick him up. Who was he kidding? He left you to yourself without so much of an explanation. He didn’t even tell you that he changed his dream. Was it a dream? Or did he pursue it out of spite? To show Mikey that he was better than him? He wanted Mikey to look at him with such jealousy…such envy because Mikey didn’t graduate from college. He was a drop out with too many plans and too many failures. Carmy was better than him. Carmy managed to go to Noma without anyone’s help. He wanted Mikey to seethe when he sees him. So why was he in his brother’s failing sandwich shop instead of cooking for the President?

He’s been looking for you for weeks now but he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t ask Richie because he was ashamed. He just wanted to walk home with you again. He was sure that Sugar knew where you were. She was the type to be in touch with everyone but he never brought himself to it. 

When he was in a relationship with Claire, you were momentarily put on his back burner. She was beautiful, he knew that. As kids, you’d always find a way to make Claire talk to Carmy. 

“Remember Y/N?” Claire asked. Carmy’s back tenses as he prepares to go to what will soon be The Bear. Claire watched him put his white shirt from the bed. 

“Hm?”

“I don’t know. She always found a way to make us talk to each other,” she shrugged. “I used to think you guys would end up together…or were together,”

“Why-why would you think that?” Carmy asked, facing her. He furrows his brows like he was so confused. The notion was foreign to him. 

“Everybody thought so too. You walked her home everyday and you’d draw her all the time. You guys were so close. Some guys didn’t bother to ask her out because they thought you were together. I didn’t make a move on you because I thought the same,” she swallows. She feels shy about what she just confessed to him. Did he catch it? “Everyone thought you broke up because you suddenly stopped hanging out,”

Carmy stood there, speechless. What was he supposed to say to that? Why did his girlfriend say that?

“But it doesn’t matter anymore,” he hears her. She gets out of bed and walks over to him. She hangs her arms on his shoulder. “We’re together now,”

“Yeah. We are,” he says, kissing her forehead. He didn’t feel how embarrassed Claire felt. He was thinking about something else.

-

“Should we invite Y/N to the opening?”

His question caused the chaos to stop. Sugar drops the pen that she used on whatever it was she was writing while Richie raises his eyebrows. 

“Or not,”

Sugar looks at him quizzically. She looks at Richie next and then, Eibra. They knew you. You frequented the sandwich shop with your mom when you were younger. Carmy brought you here to piss on Michael. 

“What?” he asked. “We don’t have to. Fuck—okay, let’s not,” he stammered, his last word was weak. Sydney was confused. “Anyways, I uh—fuck. Let’s take five,”

“What?” Sugar asks. “No, no, no. We have to finalize this list now, Carm.”

“Yeah, I know that. I-I—“

“Even if we were to invite her, I don’t know where she is anymore,” His heart stops beating. He was so sure she knew.

“What?”

“She left for college,” Richie explained. “Seemed like her whole family left with her too. Their house is occupied by a new family now. We’re surprised you didn’t know. She told us that you guys were still in contact when you left,”

It was his turn to be confused. His mind was racing. Were you alright? Where are you now? Do you remember him? Do you still have the drawing he made of you?

“I totally forgot about her,” Richie confessed, chuckling. Carmy looks at him, his eyes turning into slits. His cousin raises his hand in surrender. 

“You didn’t bother to ask?” he asks Sugar. “You grew up with her too, right?” He couldn't help but feel resentful. Why didn’t she treasure you like she treasured everyone else?

“Carm, she was your friend,” He runs his hand through his hair. He closes his eyes and counts to three. “Besides, she disappeared without a word…just like you did. As far as I know, she left first and then, her mom did.”

“Let’s take five,” he declares before leaving.

-

He rummages through his phone and tries to remember his old email address. He really wanted you to be there. He wanted to hear about your dreams and he wanted you to hear about his. He never found the courage to look you up on the internet. He didn’t want to know the hard truth. 

His hands tremble as he holds his phone when Claire’s name pops up from the screen. He shouldn’t be worrying about you—he should be worried about Claire. The girl he loves. The girl he’s always dreamed of. Right, Claire. Claire. Claire Dunlop. They met again by the frozen aisle of the store. 

“Hey,”

“Carm,” Her voice soothes him. “Just wanted to…check-in. You left feeling kind of not okay? How are you now?”

“I’m good,” he says. “Just remembered Y/N. I wanted to—uh, I wanted to invite her to the opening…if-if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course, it is. She was your best friend,”

“I don’t know how to reach her…would you know?” he swallows. He felt like shit for asking about another girl to his girlfriend. “Claire?”

“Hm, let me ask around. I’m sure somebody knows. She kind of fell out of the radar after you left,” she says. Everyone thought you eloped. She kept that part to herself. 

“Cool. Thanks. Let me know,” he says. He looks at the time. “I have to go,”

“Alright,” she says. I love you. She kept that too. “See you tonight?”

“I’ll let you know.” He ends the call and sets his phone down. He rummages through the drawers to look for clues you might have left behind. He wanted to look for you. He didn’t know why he had the sudden urge to do so. It’s not like he has any right to. He pauses, looking at a distance. He tries to rack his brain for that stupid email. He rushes out of the office and sees Sugar. 

“Do you remember what my old email was?”

-

The Bear opens and you weren’t there. Sugar can’t remember his old email. Carmy forbade her to look you up. It could have been as easy as that but he didn’t want to. He can feel himself slipping away from Claire the more he busies himself with work. He tries to busy himself with work because he tries to bury the guilt of leaving you behind. Sugar told him that you went to his childhood home the day after he left Chicago. She said she got into the arts school that you both applied to. You were probably on the way to tell him about the news. He feels horrible. 

Carmy knew that despite your charm, you were self-destructive. You were both alike that way. You have the tendency to self-isolate whenever you feel upset. One time, Carmy accidentally said something hurtful towards you. You pushed him away. He had to climb to your window and apologize before everything was alright again. When your mother scolded you, you’d lock yourself in your room and stay in the library until it closed so you wouldn’t have to see your mom. When you didn’t get the role that you wanted for a play, you’d distance yourself from everyone until everybody started to miss you. 

“You’re the only one who can get me out,” you once told him. You said it in such a teasing manner that he only brushed it off. He didn’t think about it before but it’s all he’s been thinking about now. Would you let him bring you out again? 

Claire broke up with him when The Bear opened. He brought all of his anger out to Richie. He was an island. He was alone and was out of touch. He’d go to work, cook, and then leave. He didn’t talk to anyone. He’d just scream his head off until he blows off the steam. This is the dream, right? 

He decided to go out and explore today. He had to go to Aurora, a city near Chicago to meet up with a potential supplier. He wanted to introduce a new item to the menu. He let go of the bucatini and other items. Last night, he stood a foot away from the island, looking at the food he just prepared. They were so intricate…they reminded him of you. All the food was reminiscent of your childhood with him. He didn’t know what happened for him to finally feel the gaping hole in his life shaped like you. 

He arrives at the spice store hidden from the main road. It was quaint and the shelves were lined with jars of tea and various spices from around the world. Jugs of flavored vinegars were displayed for purchase. When he entered, the aroma of the jars enveloped his nose. He happened to find this spice store on the list of possible suppliers that Sugar prepared before The Bear opened. He felt right at home with the creaky wooden floors and warm lighting. 

“Can I help you, sir?” the attendant from the cashier at the corner asked. He walks over to her and studies her corner. A framed paper caught his eye. It was too easy to miss to the unknowing eye but he saw it. The frame was on the very top, almost touching the low ceiling. His entire world stops and he sees it. He sees you. He sees the drawing that you took from him on that afternoon in the library. 

“I…,” he swallows. “Do you know the—the artist of…of that portrait?” he asked, pointing at his sketch. 

“Oh. I’m not sure, sir but the owner might know,” the attendant replied. Carmy nods. 

“I’m actually here for uh, a meeting? I’m the owner of a restaurant in Chicago and I-I…am here to meet for a possible partnership,” 

”Oh! Of course,” she nods, looking at the piece of paper the manager gave. “Mr. Berzatto?” 

“Yes,” 

”The manager will be here soon. May I lead you to the backroom? Would you like some tea?” she asked. She sees him play with a plastic of tea bears. “Tea bears. It’s the first of its kind. It’s a gummy bear that you can dissolve in water for tea. You can also eat it as is. Would you like to try a flavor? I recommend the blueberry and blue pea,”

”Oh, uh—sure,” he nods, following her to the back. Carmy sits down and the attendant leaves. He looks around the room. The walls had awards and other accolades. The attendant arrives with a cup of hot water and some colorful tea bears. 

“Just add one to the water and snack on the rest,” she smiles. He picks up a tea bear and studies it. It kind of reminds him of you. He remembers how much you loved tea. He gifted you exotic and expensive teas every time. He knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up but what were the odds? There was only one copy of that drawing in the world and it was supposed to belong to you. The manager arrives just right after he bit on the head of the first bear. Vanilla and raspberry.

”Hello, Mr. Berzatto,” he says. He was a stout man with a kind face. “Sorry for my lateness,”

”I was early,” he says, standing up to shake the other man’s hand. 

“Tea bears,” he acknowledges and Carmy smiles a little bit. ”I hope the drive wasn’t too tiring,”

”It wasn’t,” he replied. “I have the documents with me,” He lays the folder on the table with information about The Bear. 

“I take it you’re the owner?” he asks Carmy. He nods, and the manager reads over the company profile. He wastes no time asking Carmy about The Bear. Carmy answers them and he’s so tired. He should have made Sugar come here instead. The meeting ends without a fuss. 

“Do you have any questions?”

“It’s not really about the spices but the portrait on the counter. I want to have a portrait made,” he says. 

“Oh,” the manager looks at the cup of tea that Carmy drank. “I’m not quite sure but I’ll be sure to ask the owner. Bea has a couple of spice samples ready for you outside,” 

Carmy stands up and exits the room. He drives home with a brown paper bag and a picture of the portrait that hangs on the wall. It was you. It was you. 

He couldn’t sleep that night. The spices for the new menu sits on his kitchen counter, untouched. He thinks about it. What happened? He thought you were an actress. That was what your dream was. He couldn’t help it. The itch that his fingers have makes him reach for his phone. Before he knew it, he was on Google, typing your name. 

“Fuck!” he shouts, throwing the phone from across his bed. “Fuck, no, no, no.” He shuts his eyes close and pinches his nose. Why now? The Bear was in shambles. Richie hated him, Claire hated him, he hated himself. Was he only reaching out to you because he knew that he wouldn't feel the hatred?

-

“There were some problems with the renter of your house in Chicago,” you heard. You looked up from your office table and frowned. 

“I thought that house was rented properly?” you asked. It’s been ten years since you went there. Or was it five? You couldn’t keep count anymore. That house was a house of horrors that you’d never want to revisit again. Hell, you never wanted to set foot in Chicago again. 

“The renters want to meet up with you. They said that you purposely kept important information from them when you leased the house. They were complaining about the backyard and would not budge until you go there,” he says. You pinched your nose. 

“Can’t we look for other interested renters?” you were annoyed. ”Or just give them a refund?”

”Sadly, nobody wants to rent the house anymore because it hasn’t been renovated for years,” 

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Alright,” 

-

Your flight to Chicago was long. Your college was quickly spent in New York. You decided not to stay there. You thought of your old house. It could have been sold ten years ago but you didn’t want to. Your uncles and aunts all agreed that if there were no renters, it was going to be sold. You couldn’t defy their demands, they all inherited the house with your mom from their father. You all shared the profits yearly and you didn’t want to sell the house. You couldn’t just leave everything behind entirely. 

Stepping back in Chicago was…something. There was a rush of emotions that filled you and as you met up with your driver, you felt weak. You didn’t want to be back here but you had no other choice. You were tied down to that two storey house. You were just hoping that you won’t run into anyone. The plan was to stay here, four days at most and then leave before anyone else sees you. You didn’t want to make up stories in your head again about how you and him kept in contact when you knew that it wasn’t true. It wasn’t true. None of it was. You just wanted to be comforted by the lie that you tried so hard to believe. 

The hotel was nice. You were thinking of driving outside of Chicago to check some matters before going to New York. The next morning, you decided to go out for a run and grab coffee. You wondered if your old favorite cafe still opened. It was fairly far from your old home and The Beef. You wondered if people still went there. It wasn’t hip and the food was greasy but their brewed coffee was heaven.

The city has changed a lot since the last time you’ve been here. You don’t remember the streets being this way. Vacant lots turned into buildings and skyscrapers. It was odd. You once knew every nook and cranny of the city but not anymore. That afternoon, when you arrived at your old house, you couldn’t even recognize the street. The old houses were torn to pieces and were built with modern houses. The only houses that remained exactly the same were yours and the Berzattos’. It seemed empty, though. It used to have cars and chaos but it was quiet. As if…it hasn’t been lived in. You paid it no mind and knocked on your old door, revealing the new tenants of the house. 

They immediately showed you what their problem was. Fucking grass. You booked a flight and stayed at an expensive hotel for grass. It wasn’t the same as in the pictures. That was their main concern. You stood there, in your backyard, mouth pressed into a thin line in annoyance. 

“I see,” you only nodded. “I can arrange landscaping services for you,” 

“But that would be expensive. The only reason why we rented this old house is because we wanted to have a garden. Otherwise, we would’ve rented somewhere that’s actually…nicer,” the tenant says. Seeing your souring expression, she added, “This place is nice…homey. I can’t afford landscaping services,”

You only nodded, trying to think of someone who might know a landscaper. 

“Can you give me until tomorrow to sort this out?” 

“Sure,’

When you arrived at the hotel that night, you thought of the people you knew who had good lawns and backyards. Your agent can’t obviously do shit. You have to fire him soon. All the services in Chicago were way more expensive than you were willing to spend. Who had a good lawn…whose mother always had a manicured garden?

-

“Fak!” 

The man rushes into the kitchen, looking at the ensemble of people gathered where Sydney and Carmy usually stood. 

“The light,” Carmy pointed. “It’s doing that thing again,” The light buzzes and blinks, as if Carmy ordered it to do so. He had that ability sometimes. He can make the world move. 

“I got it, I got it,” he says, going out and coming back soon with a ladder and his tool box. He listens to the crew made up of Richie, Tina, Sydney, Carmy, and Sugar bicker while he tries to fix it. They always bickered and it stresses him out most of the time. ”Ugh, you guys! Stop screaming at each other!”

They ignored him, Carmy was in a screaming contest with Richie while the others tried to pacify the situation. Their relationship hasn’t gone back to the way it was after the fridge incident. 

”We’re closed today, right?” Fak asked, trying to tighten the screw.

“Yes, darling,” he hears Sugar. 

“Great because Y/N asked me to come by their old house,” he says. He takes note of the sudden silence and takes it as his permission to continue. “She’s back in town and wanted me to check their lawn because she told me that she remembered how nice Ma’s garden was, remember? Anyways, she wanted me to check and get her a connect with a gardener or a landscaper,” 

“Wh-what?” Carmy sputters. “What the fuck are you saying, Fak? Y/N hasn’t been here in-in-in fucking years,”

”Yeah but she’s here,” he shrugs. He climbs down the ladder with a smile on his face. “It’s a good thing I never changed my phone number. She wouldn’t have been able to call me if I did,”

Carmy visibly disintegrates before everyone in the kitchen. He stands there, memories of his abandonment haunting him and his eyes blinking rapidly. You were in town?

”When are you meeting her?” 

“Today,” 

Fuck. If only he didn’t promise himself to do something today. He needed to focus. He didn’t need you, right?

-

After treating Fak to a quick dinner, you immediately went home. He sadly told you that he wished you’d visit The Bear. Carmy was here now and he opened the restaurant. He told you that you’ll be welcome anytime as long as you tell him first so he can tell Richie. Richie was the front of house staff now and Fak said that Richie improved, like a lot. He showed you photos of Sugar’s cute baby. He told you that Eibra and Tina still worked there but most surprisingly, he told you that Mikey was dead. 

That part shook you. You were never really close with him but he was always nice to you. Carmy idolized him and always sought his approval. It must have been hard for him. Hearing that he didn’t attend the funeral didn’t surprise you, though. You always imagined that Carmy will do some fucked up things if it really came down to it. Years of not knowing what Carment Berzatto became brought both a hollow feeling in your chest and assurance. You never had to know if he was better without you. You chewed on the hangnail on your perfectly manicured finger. Carmy was here again and so were you. Would it be so bad to see him again? Even if it was just a glimpse…would it be so bad to see how he was after all these years? 

The night before left you with eyebags. The thought that you and Carmy were here woke you up all night. You didn’t know what to do. Does he know that you’re here too? You tried to cover the bags with a concealer you brought. You were on auto-pilot as you went to the basement to take your rental car. You were going to Aurora today to look over the shop. What was a drive anyway? You were in Aurora every other month for the business that you built when you were younger. It proved to be successful, though. 

You arrived at your first business venture, The Alchemist. You were young and full of wonder when you named it. The Alchemist…you used to call your mother that because she made so many things in the kitchen with nothing. It was a way to remember her legacy and other mixes that she made when you were younger. Now, though, you asked chefs and homecooks to make recipes for pre-mixed spices for your business. You always went back to ‘Alchemy No. 1’, a spice blend made and frequently used by your mother when she was still alive. 

You entered the store lined with jars of spices and flavored vinegars. The smell of herbs that you sourced from all over the world create an aroma that reminds you of home. 

“How is everything?” you asked her.

“Mr. Lee just is about to close a deal with a promising restaurant,”

”He told me about it,” you told Dana. “Sorry if I can’t come here as often as I’d like,”

”That’s alright,” she assures you. You pick a packet of assorted tea bears that you give to the customers to sample and open it. Taking a pink one, you melted the bear in the paper cup with hot water to drink the raspberry and vanilla flavored tea. “Mr. Lee makes the job easier, really,”

”I’m glad,” you told her. “I heard there’s a meeting today?”

”Yes, ma’am,” she replied. “It’s about to start in thirty minutes, actually. Are you planning to join?”

”Yes,” you told her. “I hope they won’t mind,” 

You were sitting on the chair in the meeting room when the door opened. Your heart drops for some reason. Your palms sweat and you suddenly couldn’t breathe. You stood up, looked  towards the opened door and saw him. Carmy. Carmy was here. He stops his movement—even his breathing and lets go of the door knob. He clutches the folder in his hands and looks at you with wide eyes. 

He’s aged. He looked tired and his face matured but his eyes were still as blue as ever, demanding you to open up to him. 

You looked older but you looked content. The fine lines that he’s never seen on you before makes you look more beautiful than you’ve ever been. 

He opens his mouth first but no words come out. You tried to do the same but you suddenly forgot all of the words that you could say. The pain in your lungs and the quiver in your voice manages to croak out something that snaps him out of his shock. 

“Hey,” a wobbly smile graces your features and he steps forward. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step back but you didn’t. 

He watches your hand tremble and he wonders if he could still hold them like he used to. 

You watch him take shaky breaths and remember how you used to soothe his back to stop him. 

“I can leave,” you said, looking down. He frowns and licks his lips.

”You don’t have to,”

”No, I’ll—“

”You don’t have to run away,”

”You ran away from me all those years ago,”

Snap. If you could break his bones with your words, you already would have.

”But…” you swallowed thickly. “but it doesn’t matter anymore,” you whispered. You resented yourself for bringing that up. You should be happy that he’s doing fine, right? 

“Y/N—“

”Let it go,”

”Please,”

”Carmy,” you finally look at him. You still called him Carmy. 

“I have to talk to you,”

”I understand, alright?” you grit. “I—I—“ you breathed in. “I can’t be here,”

”Y/N, please,” you hear him plead. His voice breaks and you do too. Maybe because you always had a soft spot for him. Maybe it was because you realized that you loved him. Maybe it was because you pitied him…either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying what you said next. 

“The Peninsula,” you told him. “Under my last name. Tomorrow,”

It was all you said to him before you left him in the meeting room. A few minutes later, Mr. Lee greets him and they close the deal. 

-

Today was Monday, which meant that Carmy had either the morning or after the restaurant closes to come to you. If he comes to The Peninsula after, you might leave thinking that he never cared. If he comes tomorrow, he might not be able to prepare. He thinks that he’s at his best and he knows that he wouldn’t be able to focus if he didn’t go to you. He’ll just fuck things up in the kitchen if he doesn’t go to you. So, at 5:30 a.m., he goes to your hotel and asks for your room number. It seemed like you’ve already informed the receptionist of your arrival and they let him come up. 

He knocks the door erratically. You rouse from the bed, alarmed because who would knock at 5:30 a.m.? You couldn’t sleep no matter what you did. With a grip on the remote control of the TV, you peeped into the hole to find Carmy. 

“Y/N?” he calls from the outside. You tossed the remote control away and opened the door.

“It’s not even six yet,” were the words you told him as he sees you in the robe. “Carmy?”

“Sorry but—but I,” he draws in a breath. “Sorry I just, I wanted to go here before anything else because…because I know that if I don’t, I’ll be thinking about it and I won’t be able to focus,”

“Come in,”

Carmy steps inside your hotel room and looks around. Fancy. You used to dream about going to a place like this when you were younger. He stands there awkwardly by the foyer and you motion for him to sit down on the couch. He does so and watches you lean on the wall, as far away from him as possible without it being really obvious but it was. 

A beat passes with Carmy’s eyes trained on you. You’ve never felt out of touch in his life than now. He watches you with wide eyes while you look everywhere but his face. There were no stains in his shirt and his curls were messier than you remember. You purse your lips and Carmy sighs. Really, Chicago felt so suffocating for the both of you. Being trapped in the small hotel room made it harder to breathe. What could you say? What could he say? The last time you saw each other, you pushed him away. What if you do it again? 

“I’m sorry,” 

Your head snaps up to look at his face. You frowned. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispers, feeling ashamed of everything. Now that you’ve looked at him, he feels like he was under a microscope and he grew to hate the feeling of being studied like that. “I’m so, so, so, fucking sorry,”

He bows his head in shame just as you look away, to the window so he wouldn’t see you wiping your tears. The sun was about to rise and it pains you because you realized that you loved him more when you spent that sunset in the library. 

“Why did—“ you stop yourself. “Why did you leave me, Carmy?”

His heart beats fast, his fists clenching on his lap. Why?

”I didn’t deserve that,” you told him. “I didn’t deserve that and you—you just pushed me away. You could’ve at least said goodbye before—before you left the country. Fuck. I spent the past years wondering what I did wrong, Carmy. Do you know how that feels? I followed you like a lost puppy every fucking day and you suddenly decided that you were done with-with-with me. With us,” 

He frowns, he doesn’t remember your childhood like that. For him, he was always in the sideways. He was the one who always had to follow you. 

“My mom thought that making you lunch was the only way for you to s-stay,” he tells you, looking down. He studies the cuts he earned in the kitchen. “I felt—I felt like that too, you know? Everybody liked you wherever you went and I only…I only had to catch up after you,”

”Carm, you don’t even like people,”

That stings him for some reason and he frowns deeper. He bites his lip and shakes his head. How would you understand? Everybody loved you and he was so hard to love that his brother decided that he was done with him. 

“Why did you push me away? Why—“ you choke back a sob. “Why did you leave me?” 

The string that you tied around his heart grips it tighter. Memories of you, him, Mikey, that Christmas with his mom, the first time he smoked a cigarette, and the last time he looked at your house comes rushing back to him. 

“You know, I started—started smoking when I left,” he chuckled. “It made sense…once I arrived in Copenhagen, the next logical thing was to, uh, buy a pack of cigarettes,” He hopes you understood what he tried to say. 

”I’m not your babysitter,”

”I know,” he says. He thinks and you do too. You realized that too much resentment and emotions will get you nowhere.

”Carmy, I know you’re sorry but…but for tonight, can-can we just pretend like you never left?” you asked. He looks at you now, the sunrise illuminating your face differently from that sunset you shared. “Can we..can we pretend like we just lost touch and-and that we’re catching up?” 

You look at him sadly, with your mouth downturned slightly. There were so many things to say and emotions to be felt. You couldn’t afford to unpack everything in a day and you were unsure if you wanted him back in your life just yet. You missed him but you didn’t know if you could handle another person leaving you. You’ve had enough people leaving you in this lifetime. Maybe that’s why you were so lonely. Maybe that’s why you don’t have friends and maybe that’s why everyone else seemed to have had enough of you never letting them in. What was the point anyway? Everything’s going to end and love doesn’t last forever. Who would have thought that the two people you loved most can teach you such a harrowing lesson? 

Besides, you were unsure if you were ready to let all the love you’ve had for Carmy come to the surface and overflow again. The last time he left, would be the last time he leaves. 

“Y/N?” he calls, standing up from the couch to walk towards you. Maybe just for now, this is enough. You smile at him, just like you did when you were younger. Like everything was alright. 

“Carmy,” you smile as you let his calloused hands wipe the tears away. “I’m sorry for crying,”

”I’m sorry for making you cry,” he tries to say but his stutter breaks out and he looks down in shame. You reach out to him, your hands clutching the sides of his white shirt. He tries again, this time his voice was much clearer. His head seemed to put everything in his backburner. He has to savor this moment because who knows what will happen? He decided that the last time he left would be the last time he leaves you. A sob threatens to rip his chest but he swallows it down. “How have you been?” 

Your arms snake around his waist and you lay your head on his chest. You can hear his heart beating so fast. Does he hear yours too? He takes in your scent. You smell different now. 

He caresses the back of your head and kisses it. You take in a sharp breath. He’s never done that before. He tightens his grip around you, afraid to let go. 

“Did you achieve your dream?” 

-

You’re both laying down on the bed. The tender moment you shared was interrupted by your alarm. You watch each other now, wondering who breaks the ice first. Carmy’s arms wrap around you while you snuggle closer in his chest, clinging onto every piece of hope left. Your forehead is tucked under his chin and you breathed.

“I became an actress for a while,” you started. The air feels heavy but you decided to push it aside. “but I decided not to continue.”

“Why?”

“I went to college after you—after high school. I stayed there for a semester before…before I dropped out,” you said. “Carmy, they were so much better than me—“

“That’s not true,”

“But it is,” you chuckled sadly. “That wasn’t even the main reason but…but remember mom was sick?” He nods. “Well, she got…she—she got sicker and we had to use the college fund for her treatment,” you said. You don’t try to hide the sniffles. “In the end…in the end, I never went back to college and she didn’t…she didn’t make it,” your voice broke. The images of your mom in her casket never seemed to leave your mind. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “My mom and I—“ You shuddered, remembering the time when your mother had to personally refuse any more care. You knew that she didn’t want you to be in debt. It was hard to spend your college fund but she couldn’t leave you with debt that you’ll pay forever.

”I know,” he says. He couldn’t bear hearing your voice break again. His eyes were red and tears threatened to spill. Fuck. He wasn’t there when you needed him. He knew how close you and your mom were. He couldn’t even say sorry because you both didn’t want to and didn’t know how to address the elephant in the hotel room. 

“But then…then, I tried to act,” you chuckled, wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of the white robe. Carmy hears the tiredness in your voice but doesn’t mention it. “I had an audition and I got lucky. I got a recurring role in a hit TV series. I thought I was happy. I thought—I thought that I finally got what I wanted but I felt so alone, Carm. I didn’t have my mom with me…she will never—she will never watch anything that I’ll do but I persisted,” the small circles he drew on your back soothed you. “But then…the producer wanted to meet with me and I—he said that if I removed my clothes, he’ll make me a star,” his grip tightened. ”I removed my shirt and sat in his office half naked. It didn’t bother me. I knew…I knew what I was getting into but he-he wanted more and I had to leave,”

Carmy lets go of the breath that he didn’t know he was holding. 

“I was fine with sitting there…like…like I was some fucking object. He could look all he wanted and I didn’t fucking care but he tried—he tried to touch me and I pushed him away,” you cried. He was around your age and was already successful when you came to the picture. He made you trust him. “He had my name blacklisted. I could never…I couldn’t do shit about it. I couldn’t land a job before I realized that maybe…maybe acting wasn’t for me,” you whispered. “I was only there because…he wanted someone to take advantage of,” 

You cry in his arms as you share your burden with him. You had nobody to talk to when it happened. You were alone. You were so, so, so alone. 

”I opened The Alchemy with the money that I have left and my business grew from there,” you said after calming yourself down. “I have the money but…but I feel so, so, so alone,”

He cooes and you bury yourself deeper in his arms. He mutters things you couldn’t understand. Carmy lets his tears flow as you calm yourself down. How can he tell you all about him if you’re so frail? He didn’t want to burden you any longer. 

He doesn’t know how many minutes passed before he heard your breath even itself out. He unwraps his arms around you as carefully as he could. You were fast asleep and didn’t want to wake you. It takes a lot for him to remove himself from the bed that you shared for a few hours but soon, he finds himself wearing his jacket, walking away from the Peninsula. He forgot to count the number of cigarettes he smoked ever since he stepped his foot outside. He forgot to take his heart with him when he left it with you. 

He runs a hand through his hair and arrives at the kitchen with profound sadness that his staff has never seen him carry. He locks himself in the office and takes out the notebook he managed to find in his apartment the night before. The email address and the password that he tried so hard to remember glares at him before clicking on ‘Next’. Emails from his childhood pop up but one stands out. Who would have thought that his email address was as easy to remember as combining your names together? 

He shakily clicks on your old email address and takes a sharp breath as he reads the last thing you’ve sent him. 

Carmy,

I heard from Donna that you’re in Copenhagen now. I hope everything’s fine between us because the last time I tried, you refused to speak to me. I don’t mind. I hope we talk again someday because you’re the only person in the world who I can talk to without hiding anything. I hope you gave me the chance to say this. I was planning on telling you anyway before we enter college. I don’t know why I’m saying this now. Maybe I’m doing this because I’m selfish. I’m hoping that you’d come back or maybe talk to me again if I do. If you don’t reply, I’ll take it as a rejection and try to move on with my life. I’ll be happy for you either way. 

I love you, Carmy. I love you so much and I hope that you’re out there, pursuing your dreams. I will always be rooting for you. 

I love you. 

He throws his phone on the floor. He’s positive that there’s another crack on the screen now. He screams profanities and ignores the urgent knocks that Sugar was making outside his door. His head falls in his hands and he sobs. You were right. If he read the message, he’d book the next flight home.

He only dreams to be loved and to love without anything holding him back but dreams have a way of appearing brighter when you’re younger.

END.  A/N: Thank you so much for reading and for waiting for me! I hope this was worth it. I’m really proud of this and as always, don’t forget to reblog / comment / tell me what you think! Love you.

TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt@morgthemagpie@hal3ynicol3@1800-queen-trash @ummvengers @thottywizard

[me-and-your-husband]

body ink || e. williams

summary: you tattoo ellie's thigh. it's a bit of a compromising position, and it leads you down an unexpected road. female reader.

warnings: smut!, fingering (e receiving), oral (e receiving), tattoo guns, mentions of a needle, tattoos? finger sucking?? not beta read (i didn't even read tbis through once)

a/n: i've risen from the dead. lets chat, my inbox is open :)

e.williams

Hey! I've gone thru your page and I love your work. Especially your big pieces, they're sick asf. I was wondering if you had any openings for July?

y/ntattoos

hi! i'm glad you like my work, thank you for the kind words! i've got a couple openings in july, when can you come in?

e.williams

I can come in whenever. I'll make time for it if I have to...I don't care when, as long as you're the one doing it haha

y/ntattoos

how does july 13th at 1pm sound?

e.williams

That works!

y/ntattoos

perfect. what are you looking to get done?

e.williams

I was looking to get something kind of floral but not super...soft, yk?

y/ntattoos

so not super feminine? like no roses?

e.williams

Yeah, exactly like that. I don't have a design in mind...I kind of wanted you to design it? I'll pay extra for it I don't mind, but I saw your other designs on your page and liked your style lol

y/ntattoos

okay, tell you what: i'll draw up a couple designs and send them your way before the appointment. sound okay?

e.williams

Yes! Perfect.

y/ntattoos

cool cool. i'll send you the quote once we choose a design. how big were you thinking? and where?

e.williams

I was thinking on my thigh...? I know some artists won't do thighs so if you're uncomfortable w that it's cool!

I was hoping to cover most of my thigh tho

y/ntattoos

haha dw about it. i'm fine with the thigh. trust me, i'm sure i've had weirder requests.

e.williams

Oh yeah? Like what?

y/ntattoos

had a guy a few weeks ago who wanted a full portrait of his grandma on his ass.

e.williams

Oh my goddd. Did you do it?

y/ntattoos

...

$300 is $300...

e.williams

At least I know you're cool with a thigh 😭

y/ntattoos

absolutely. well, i've got some more dms to answer but i'll get to drawing up your design asap. i'll be in touch, thanks ellie :)

e.williams

Sweet. Have a good one :)

ellie walked into your tattoo shop about fifteen minutes early, to which the receptionist told her to take a seat as you were still finishing up with another client. "she shouldn't be too long."

you had reached out to ellie with five or six amazing designs, all of which she loved. she had such a hard time choosing between all of them, but you managed to rework her favourite parts of each design into one. you both finally came up with a tattoo design that she was obsessed with.

ellie half expected you to be a middle-aged woman with black lipstick and face tattoos, maybe even half of your head shaved and the other side bright pink. your page didn't feature any photos of yourself, just your work.

so when you came waltzing out from the studio and into the foyer, ellie thought you were the client.

"hey, your next client is here," jess said, gesturing to ellie in the chair by the entrance scrolling her phone.

"thanks, jess," you said before approaching ellie. "ellie?"

she looked up from her phone at you, completely startled by who was in front of her. a girl about her age, fucking gorgeous. there's no way you could've developed such skill in so little time.

"hi, yes, that's, uh, that's me," she said as she stood, shoving her phone in her pocket.

"nice to finally meet you," you said, holding your hand out for her to shake. her breath hitched slightly as she took yours.

"you too," she mumbled.

"i'll take you back into the studio now, i've just gotta wipe everything down from my last client." you started walking into the back and she followed you.

"cool, cool ," she said nervously.

this wasn't her first tattoo. she knew what it felt like. she wasn't sweating, stuttering, and shaking before she caught a glimpse of you.

her breath caught in her throat when she realized that you'd have to sit between her legs for most of the appointment.

she was so fucked.

she stood awkwardly playing with her fingers as you sanitized the tools and the chair, listening to you hum slightly to the music playing. she could hear the buzz of the tattoo gun from other artists in the space tattooing other clients.

in the back, an older man was tattooing a woman on the back of her knee. that had to hurt. next to them was a older woman tattooing a woman not much older than you two.

"alright, we're all set. i'm just gonna put this up," you said, unfolding one of those old-timey partitions that princesses change behind in the movies. "it's just to give us a bit of privacy, since you're getting tattooed in a bit more of an exposed place, you know?"

"oh yeah, that makes sense. thanks."

"don't thank me," you laughed. "okay, not to be too forward or anything, but if you brought shorts to change into, i'll give you a minute. if not, i'm cool with you just taking your pants off."

ellie laughed nervously, knowing it didn't even cross her mind to bring shorts. "take me out to dinner first, damn," she chuckled, starting to undo her belt buckle.

you pretended to occupy yourself with putting your gloves on and preparing your table as she took her pants and shoes off, leaving her in her black boxers, your mouth watering a little at her toned thighs.

"you can hop up on the chair when you're done. if you can just like, throw one leg over each side— yeah, like that. perfect."

ellie couldn't believe that she was borderline straddling a tattoo chair in her boxers right now. in front of you, especially. fuck.

without much warning, you slid your swivel chair almost between her legs.

"left or right?"

"uh, i write with my right hand, but i can do some things with my left?" she swallowed hard.

you laughed, "are you getting it on your left or right thigh?"

"oh, uh," god, she was an idiot. "left."

"cool. i'm gonna put the stencil on, then you can look in the mirror and see if you like it. 'kay?"

she nodded, watching you peel the film from the stencil, trying her hardest not to tense up when your soft fingers placed the stencil onto her milky skin, sending shivers straight to her centre.

when she looked at it in the mirror, she grinned, rotating her leg around to get a good look. "fuck, that's sick. i'd be content with just the stencil, you know."

you smiled at her through the mirror. "well hopefully you'll like it better once it's actually shaded."

once you had her back in the chair, you began prepping your gun. "okay, i know you've had a tattoo before, i saw that piece on your arm. so you know what to expect, right?"

"yeah. yeah, i'll be fine."

"okay. if you need a break, just let me know, kay? thighs can be sensitive." you switched the gun on.

"will do."

you began the outlining, humming to yourself over the buzz of the gun. she watched your face focused on the lines, keeping a steady hand.

"who did your arm piece?" you said as you wiped the ink away, making brief eye contact with her.

"oh, my ex-girlfriend did it. she bought a cheap tattoo gun when we were teenagers and i was her test subject i guess."

"cute," you said. "i was just curious." you went back to tattooing her thigh.

ex-girlfriend. that piqued your interest. i mean, it was kind of a given based on the fact that she was wearing boxers and looked like the idea of men repulsed her. and the way she took you in when she first saw you. like she was thirsty. and she was so fine, the way you could see her thigh clench and feel it under your fingers making you want to take her right behind that privacy partition.

"my ex let me tat her too. she was brave. let me do an entire leg sleeve my first time."

"oh?"

"yeah. it kind of ended badly though, so she probably regrets it."

ellie sighs, "that's the beauty of being into girls. they fuck you up."

"amen," you said, looking up at her again.

you made small talk as you worked. you found out that she was a university student studying astrophysics, that she works with her dad in the summer as a contractor to make some extra cash, that she teaches guitar throughout the school year, and that she's an artist herself (her media of choice being oil paints). she even told you that she missed work with her dad today specifically to come.

you quite enjoyed how she'd tilt her head back when you shaded some more painful areas, the cords in her neck more prominent and the column of her throat exposed.

four and a half hours later, the tattoo was finished, and you placed the second skin over her tattoo. you gave her all the aftercare instructions, going over the dos and don'ts. she held her breath when you didn't move your hand from her knee until you told her to go look at it in the mirror.

"holy fuck!?"

"...is that a good reaction or a bad reaction?"

"it's fucking amazing! jesus christ, that's so fucking cool. oh my god. you're amazing."

you blushed and thanked her as you watched her check it out in the mirror, inspecting it and gushing over how detailed it was.

she put her pants and shoes back on and you walked her out to reception.

"i've got this one, jess. take a smoke break," you said, smiling at your receptionist. she thanked you and scurried into the back room.

"alright ellie, that's $200."

"what? you quoted me at $350?"

you just smiled and looked at her, leaning forward against the counter. "pretty girl discount."

her face turned red as she took out her wallet and grinned. she counted out the money, laying $200 in cash against the counter.

"you gonna give the next client who walks through that door today a pretty girl discount, or is it just me?"

"actually, you're my last. and for the record, you're the first to get the discount."

she smiled and returned to her wallet, folding up more bills. after you put the money in the register, she leaned forward and tucked a stack of folded bills into the front pocket of your shirt, pulling you in close. "pretty girl tip."

you bit your lip as you looked at her. her eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips, finally deciding on your eyes. "you said i'm your last client, yeah?"

"yeah," you breathed.

"what're you doing after this, then?"

"well, a pretty girl hasn't asked me to go home with her yet, so i guess i'll probably pick up a coffee and—"

"come home with me?" she breathed, leaning in slightly. "please."

you giggled, "like i could say no to that."

tired of her teasing, her breath eternally fanning over your lips, you grabbed her and pulled her into you over the counter. your lips met and she groaned into the kiss, pulling away after a few seconds. she held her car keys up and shook them, "you ready, babe?"

she had you pressed up against the wall as soon as she kicked her door shut behind her, hands all up in your hair, lips bruising against yours. you kissed her back fervently. your hand slid down to her core, feeling the wetness through her boxers and jeans. she whimpered into your open mouth at the feeling.

"fuck, you're so wet, ellie."

"then do something about it," she said, hiding her smirk in your neck as she sucked hickeys into it.

"then take me to your bed."

she led you to her room, closing and locking the door, just in case. you pushed her flannel from her shoulders and undid her belt buckle, undoing the buttons on her jeans and sliding them down her legs, being careful of her thigh. she groaned.

"this doesn't seem fair," she said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and sliding it off. she slid your pants down your legs and threw them onto the floor. "that's better."

she laid on top of you, caging you in, undoing your bra and sucking on your tits, trailing kisses down to your stomach. "fuck, so beautiful," she groaned. 

you pressed your knee gently into her core, "still want me to take care of that?"

"fuck, yeah."

you flipped her over so her ass hung off the edge of the bed and you got on your knees on the carpeted floor. she propped herself up on your elbows, watching your every move.

you began running your finger over her covered core, soaked so good that your finger was covered in her wetness when you took it away, bringing it to your lips.

"please, fuck, i need more, take them off," she said, bucking her hips up.

you hummed, "but i'm enjoying myself, el."

"please, i need you so bad y/n."

"what do you need ellie? tell me."

"i need your fingers, your mouth, anything. i'll do anything. just need you," she begged, shame gone.

"you're lucky you're insanely hot."

you slid her boxers off, watching the strings of slick that connected her pussy to the fabric. you laid your head against the thigh that wasn't freshly tattooed, tracing your finger through her dripping core.

"open up for me, honey," you instructed, gently spreading her thighs further apart.

she let out the most guttural moan when your tongue finally slid through her folds, collecting her juices on your tongue. her hands found your hair and pulled gently, making you moan into her cunt.

you sucked her clit gently, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. when your middle finger slid into her entrance she tried to muffle her moan with the back of her hand, but you yanked it away. "wanna hear you, el. don't do that."

"fuck, you're too good. fuckkk."

"you almost there el? can feel you clenchin' around me," you said, sliding another finger in and returning your mouth to lapping at her folds, paying special attention to her bundle of nerves.

she hummed and nodded fervently. with every thrust in and out, you felt her clench around you, a small white ring forming around the base of your fingers.

"fuck, fuck! i'm gonna— ohhhhh god—!"

you lapped up all of her release that you could, only coming up for air once she had to push your head away from the overstimulation.

you wiped her release from your face with the back of your hand and brought your fingers to her lips, "open."

she grabbed your wrist and obeyed, swirling her tongue around your digits and closing her eyes. "see how good you taste?"

she released them with a 'pop'. "i bet you taste better."

"i seriously doubt that."

"you've been between my legs twice today. i think it's my turn to be between yours. take your panties off."

permanent taglist:

@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

ellie taglist:

@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz

@pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows: Part 3

Eris x Azriel'sSister!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up. This takes place before Under the Mountain.

Warnings: overbearing brothers

Series Masterlist

Part 2 || Part 4

»»————-　♔　————-««

Year 3

Morrigan had never been overprotective of you like your brothers were.

You'd been six when you and Azriel were released from that cell and taken to Windhaven. You were the youngest, and everyone treated you as such.

But never Morrigan.

The day you turned 16, Morrigan had dragged you to a bar to get wasted with her. Rhys’s mother had sent you both to the cabin for a week after that.

But with Morrigan, you could speak freely. You didn’t have to worry about scandalizing her like you did with your brothers. You could barely say a bad word around them without them acting like you'd killed somebody. To them, you were still the scared little girl who didn’t speak until she was 11.

“Mor, you’re still hungover, we’re not going out again tonight,” you scolded the female. She pouted.

“Getting drunk is exactly what I need to get rid of this hangover,” she insisted. You giggled as your shadows swirled around her.

Rhys’s talons gently caressed your mind, and you let them in.

Come to my office, now.

You tried to keep from being anxious at the tone. You got to your feet, explaining to Mor that you’d be back.

Your shadows were giving you no intel as you made your way to his office, and his talons never left your mind.

You recalled when you were first brought to Windhaven, how terrified you’d been. You didn’t speak back then, and they were all concerned about you.

The first time you’d had to leave Azriel’s side in your entire life was his first day of training. You had been so upset with no way to express it.

Rhys had caressed your mind, thinking it would help. But it had terrified you, and you'd thrown a screaming fit that only his mother had been able to calm.

For years, you would cry anytime he tried to enter your mind. But centuries later, you had become used to it.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you finally entered the office.

All three of your brothers were there, and none of them looked happy.

They’re upset, a shadow whispered.

No shit, you replied. You winced as it tugged a strand of your hair in response.

“We’ve received a letter from Eris Vanserra,” Rhys announced, holding it up.

You chewed on your bottom lip, anxiety eating at your gut.

“He invites you to a ball being thrown in his honor,” Rhys explained. “According to him, you owe him a favor.”

“Shit,” you grumbled, earning a raised brow from Cassian.

“Why don’t you tell us exactly why you owe him a favor, dear sister?” Rhys asked you, setting the letter down.

“A few weeks ago, when I went to meet with Graham, Eris found me waiting,” you admitted. “He told me Graham had been beheaded.”

“And you didn’t tell us?”

“I did tell you!” you objected.

“No, you told us your shadows informed you of Graham’s death,” Azriel corrected. “And you certainly didn’t mention Eris Vanserra.”

“I knew it’d just upset you all,” you explained.

“Damn right,” Cassian agreed, narrowing his eyes.

“Why do you owe him a favor, Y/N?” Rhys demanded, impatience wearing his voice thin.

“I said if he didn’t turn me into his father, I’d owe him a favor,” you explained, sighing.

“Well, you’re not going to this ball,” Azriel decided. You glared at him.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you snapped.

»»————-　♔　————-««

You liked to talk to the portrait of Rhys's mother nearly every Sunday. It was stupid, but you enjoyed catching her up on your week. Even the mundane details.

Rhys's mother, Selene, had been everything to you. She was never a replacement for your own mother, but you still loved her like one. And she loved you like a daughter. She had rescued you from your father's keep after Azriel had been sent to Windhaven, you left behind to rot in that cell, only six years old and all alone. 

“I just hate how overbearing they are,” you were telling her. “I didn’t even want to go to this ball, but now that they’re forbidding it, I have half a mind to go.”

Her beautiful, violet eyes stared back at you. Even if it was just a painting, it was comforting.

“I hate Eris, but I hate being told what to do more,” you went on. “You know that better than anyone. The only thing holding me back is it might hurt Morrigan if I go.”

Every interaction you had with him, you thought of your cousin. Your best friend. Guilt would eat at you with every word you said to him.

“But she might understand,” you debated. “I’m just doing it to spite my brothers. She does things to spite her family all the time.”

It may not have been a fair comparison, but it was true.

“You would never have forbade me from a ball,” you mumbled. “I miss you.”

»»————-　♔　————-««

Scorched Shadows Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd

Eris Taglist:

Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!

»»————-　♔　————-««

[ivnxrori]

When Sun and Moon meet - S2

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: none

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 5 - Trainer Sakari

I stare at the moon and stars, laying against the grassy land with the Buffalo Yak next to me. We decided to take a break, I didn't want to tire out my only transportation. I didn't feel that tired, I decided maybe looking at the night sky would put me to slumber against my sleeping bag but that clearly didn't do. “I might as well use the time I have” I mutter under my breath and lift myself up. I attempted to try some water bending moves to strengthen my water bending however I haven't succeeded most of the moves. “Ugh this sucks!” I yell at the water causing it to rain. “Just my luck” I said annoyed. “It seems like your waterbending abilities have a high range.” I turned around to see who said that. It was some lady, she looked like she was in her 40s or so. “Who are you?” “Oh just some lonely water bender.” “Did you come from the northern tribes?” “Yes indeed I did, Princess Y/N” She smiled. “Then what was the need to come here? Late at night?” I questioned suspiciously. “Relax princess, I like to look at the night sky here, it's the best view isn't it?” She asked, I slowly let my guard down. “It is,” I sigh. “I have heard that your sister turned into the moon spirit” “You’re correct” The silence lasted longer than I had wanted. “Did you run away because you were tired of the stupid rules?” I broke the silence. “Every woman who is a waterbender who is not in the northern tribes clearly ran away.” We both laugh softly. “I know someone who is a waterbender from the southern tribes,” I said. “Because of her, the Northern water tribe allowed girls to waterbend,” I continued. “That's believable” The woman shrugged. “I believe I never got your name” I asked, turning to her. “Sakari,” She said simply. “I'm married to an earthbender with 2 kids”. I gasped in shock. “What? you're surprised that i'm a married woman” She chuckled as I shook my head “No, I just never heard of anyone getting married without being arranged.” Sakari furrowed her brows “Oh you poor princess” We both chuckle at that statement. “All right, I like you now. Pack up your stuff you're sleeping at my house tonight” Sakari got up. My eyes widened. “Me?” I pointed at myself and she stared at me, giving an ‘are you serious’ look on her face. “Right…” Y/N you couldn't possibly be even more stupider. “How come you want me- wait no. How come you trust me enough to come to your house?” I gathered my stuff from the floor, which wasn't much. “Like you have much experience with waterbending, besides I can't leave a princess in the cold like that” “It's not that cold” “Then stay outside” “No! Sorry im coming” I hurried to catch up to her, tugging on the Buffalo Yak.

  ҉   ☾

Once I saw her house from outside, it looked very homely. “Put your animal in the shed over there”. I complied and moved the Yak under the shed. “I'll see you later buddy”. We walked in and It looked just as cozy from the inside. “The kids are asleep, if they’re snoring it's not my issue” Sakari said which made me laugh. On the walls they have many family portraits, I could tell that the kids look exactly like her. I smile thinking about my own family, slowly realizing I have 2 missing people in it. “Losing someone isn't easy, I know” Sakari spoke up which caught me out of zoning out. “I'm just not used to it…my mind keeps wandering back to the worser days”. I sighed deeply. “You will get better” Sakari reassured me “Let's get you to your room shall I” she pushed me towards my room.

  ҉   ☾

I stare at the ceiling blankly. I wonder how everyone is at the Northern Water Tribe. Probably better because of Katara. I can't do anything right can I? In the end I'm still as selfish as before, using people for my own benefit. I groaned into my pillow, I really need to fall asleep by now, for tomorrow. Then an idea popped up in my head. What if…Sakari helped me with waterbending. I'm not the best at waterbending so using her help would benefit me. I slightly kick my legs in excitement and use that as motivation to fall asleep.

“I'm sorry Kiddo I'm not sure if I could help you there,” Sakari said uncertainly. My mouth agape “But I need someone to help me waterbend!” I begged. 

“Get a waterbending master”

“I ran away before asking for more help”

“Oh…Right”

I sighed deeply “The only help that I got was from the moon spirit, otherwise now I'm stuck” I attempted to guilt trip Sakari, hoping she would give in. “Fine!” She yelled, “I'll teach you all I know”. My eyes widened in joy “Thank you so much! Thank you, thank you!” I repeated in gratefulness. “But!” Sakari put her hand in front of me. “I won't go easy on you” She warned as I nodded. 

  ҉   ☾

“You’re not doing this right,” Sakari yelled, which made me grow frustrated. “Ugh!” I threw the water aggressively. Just as I hit my limit, rain started to hit. “Why is it raining?” I scream in anger. “Y/N you have trouble controlling your emotions which leads to your waterbending to react just like you do. You have set the clouds to rain again.” Sakari explained. “How come I never heard of this ‘cloud bending’?” I mocked. “You have higher range than other water benders. I have been realizing that this happens to you when the clouds are low enough. This is beneficial but much more difficult to control.” Sakari moves closer and grabs my wrist. “You have to be calm, one with the water.” She motions my wrists to the feeling of water. “How am I supposed to be calm in this kind of situation?” “Deep breaths…”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, listening to what I was told. I went to move the water smoothly and not aggressively as I thought I should. “You see Y/N, You did it” Sakari said. I opened my eyes to see the water molding in my favor. “I guess I am doing it” I sigh in relief.

“You can't bring your animal to Ba Sing Se”. I turned my head around confused. “Why not?” “They’re strict” “But im a princess” “There it is, your spoiled mindset” She sighed disappointingly I roll my eyes at her comment. “I could pretend I'm injured, give me some bandages” I said, urging her to get bandages but to no avail. She looked at me deadpanned. “Oh…May I please have some bandages.” I sheepishly said and she nodded. “You really need to grow out of that attitude princess Y/N” Sakari said, giving me the bandages. “Sorry, bad habit” I shrug. “I'll come see you once I have time, which will be a lot” I smiled, getting on my Yak. “Can't wait,” Sakari said sarcastically, which made us both laugh. “Well, this is goodbye for now” I looked down. “Stop with the sappy comments, you're gonna come back” Sakari slapped my back teasingly. “You’re right, well see you!” The buffalo yak started moving as I waved.

“Good luck!” Sakari called out. “Thank you!”

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: WOOO SEASON 2!! I actually finished this chapter a while ago but I wanted to wait for a little bit! My spring break is almost over so im pretty sure there isnt going to be anymore daily updates however I that could change if im able to finish the series on time. Also Sakari is a fan made character made by me, I needed to make a waterbender to train Y/N. ANWAYS Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have a nice day!

--

Taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku @corpsebridenightamare @newjellis @fatkish

[thedarkmongoose]

i'm probably going to make several posts about c2e2 bc there was SO much going on. but overall, it was an incredible experience meeting all the fannibals! i was overwhelmed (in a good way) by the kindness and generosity of the fannibal fandom. i've never been part of a fandom and esp not one so amazing.

but to recap: i got mr. dancy to sign my tempo dvd LOL. the idea was all thanks to the brilliant @bodysnatcherrrr (tysm❤️)! by the time my autos rolled around, hugh looked too exhausted to really look at the patrons bc it was RIGHT after the chaotic panel. but we did catch eye contact a couple of times.

he was SO NICE and friendly from the start. when i gave him the tempo insert to sign, he literally shouted, "TEMPO! WHOA! A BLAST FROM THE PAST!" i joked that "it was a classic and i liked the twists and turns" and he laughed his sarcastic hugh laugh and said sth like, "it sure does have those." lmfao. afterwards, he sweetly asked, "where would you like me to sign it?" and i said sth like, "wherever your sharpie compels you" and he smirked and signed it right above his portrait.

you can see the tail end of the "y" in his name run off the page as he marked the table so i decided to land one more joke, "leaving your mark on c2e2 as an extra gift" and he laughed and said sth like, "that's exactly right." we made some other jokes in between but it all happened so fast there's much i can't recall. i was also v careful to keep things lighthearted/comedic bc he looked pressed after the panel. but as soon as he saw the tempo dvd he came to life and looked so refreshed after that - so sometimes "doing it for the lulz" can be a good thing lol. he was much more lively for the duo photo ops with mads that were after the autos as well.

hilariously, hugh's tempo co-star was also doing autos/photos at c2e2. perhaps i should have gotten hers to complete the circle.

gossip girl signing off, xoxo

[yallthemwitches]

Catch the Wind, Chapter 5: Stolen Time

I got a little indulgent with this one. Hope you enjoy some quality Jily sexual tension....

James didn’t know how he made it back to the Gryffindor tower. He couldn’t recall walking–maybe he floated? He also had no idea where his homework had gone off too, but that was not important. All he knew was that he was currently splayed out on the couch in the common room only able to think of Lily. 

He closed his eyes and replayed the kiss again and again. How she pressed herself against him; made soft sighing noises as she opened her mouth more to deepen the kiss; the feel of her hands that moved from his cheeks into his hair…

“I think Prongs has been poisoned,” he heard Peter say after an echo of footsteps from the stairwell. 

“Likely not.” Remus’ voice retorted. “Someone go wake him.”

James didn’t have enough time to respond as a rush of air pushed past and a huge weight descended upon his chest. He opened his eyes, gasping to see Sirius with his arms and legs wrapped around his torso in a strangle-hold. 

“Oi! James, get up you prick we still got a day to get through!” James pushed his mate off while uprighting himself. He had forgotten that it was only noon. Fuck, how am I supposed to go to class now that Lily and I have kissed? Does being so sodding happy count as a medical excuse?

He was about to blurt out his morning to his mates, but something stopped him. They had kissed. That’s all he had wanted for years. His joy was inescapable, but in the back of his head were glaring questions: Why did she do it? Did she want something more? Was she perhaps under some sort of spell and this was all a big misunderstanding? Whatever the reason he wasn’t mad about the result, but telling this to his mates would more than likely cause an uproar. He knew Remus would at least be discreet, but Sirius and Peter? They would hound him and even Lily for ages. With that kind of luck, Lily wouldn’t even want to look at him again by the end of the day. 

Despite still feeling like a human beacon of light, he didn’t say anything. Lily would want it this way. Anyways, for all I know this is all I’m going to get.

The boys stood in front of the fire and bantered a bit about Quidditch after party plans. If James was showing any pep in his disposition, Sirius and Peter were not picking up on it, but every once in a while Remus would notice a blush and a smile creep across James’ face, and his eyes go a little unfocused...  

There was a bounding noise coming from the girls’ dorm steps and Lily and Alice descended. While they had been in mid conversation when walking down, Lily immediately went silent at the sight of James standing by the fireplace. James' eyes came back into focus and zeroed in on her. Despite a burning look, he took a breath and fell into a cool disposition. 

Lily, who now had a blush creeping on her face, told Alice she would meet her out the portrait hole, then turned to walk towards the boys. James' heart felt like it was about to burst through his chest. 

“Hey Potter,” she was trying to sound neutral but a softness was detectable in the way she said his name. 

“I think I forgot my book in the classroom today–did you grab it by chance?” He knew she had asked him a question but he could not compute. The way she was just standing there, looking up at him, with the lips he had touched just hours earlier slightly parted—his brain went blank. 

He finally registered what she had said and gave a cool smirk. 

“I wouldn’t want to be losing books right now, Evans—with NEWTs and all.” The way his stare bounced between eye contact and focusing on her lips made her blush even more and she nervously tucked a hair behind her ear. She could see the cloud of euphoria that was in his eyes earlier had not dissipated a bit. Despite his mates still in the room, the whole world seemed to disappear and all they were left with was the tension from earlier. 

“Exactly,” She half-whispered. He gestured for her to follow him over to his bag which had been flung haphazardly on the ground near the boys’ stairwell. She followed him, making note of how his hand lingered in the air as though begging her to take it with her own.  He pulled her book out of the sack and gave it a teasing waggle in her direction before handing it back. 

“Thanks,” she said. He stood back up and they were only inches apart. All she had to do was reach out for him again…

“ I hope you’re not forgetting something else,” his eyes lowered and a mischievous smile flashed at her. Lily gave a side eye to the boys still by the fire; all of which were not paying attention to them. 

She matched his smile with her own. “No, I think it was just the book, thanks.”

The cheekiness of his expression dropped off and the desire returned tenfold. It was as though every inch of his body was begging her. 

“Evans,” his voice lowered an octave. “Why did you kiss me earlier?” He lifted his hand and brushed a path from her forearm to her hand by her side. He let his fingers linger in her softly opened palm.

“I don’t know,” Lily breathed out. She tried to mask any sort of desire she had for him with a teasing tone, but she could tell he wasn’t buying it. Unaware, they had both taken a step closer to each other and were now breaching dangerous levels of personal space between two people who were merely friends. 

Clocking that they were getting too ahead of themselves with an audience around, Lily broke the haze and gave James a painfully platonic pat on the shoulder. 

“See you in class,” she said and with one last smirk, followed after Alice who had left the portrait hole. 

Merlin.

James slunk back to his friends who seemed overall unaware of what had transpired. 

________________________________________________________________________

James barely lasted through his History of Magic course. Then again, in his Herbology lab. It felt like a pain worse than death to have to sit through boring classes after how much had happened in the course of one day. By the time his class with Lily came around, his body felt like it was buzzing with excitement. It took all of his energy to not sprint through the halls to get to the classroom. 

He entered and saw Sirius’ sitting in his usual spot in the back corner of the class, leaning back in his chair and reading some Muggle philosophy book. Lily was already seated with her materials in front of her a few tables up. James passed by Sirius and gestured towards Lily before continuing to walk in her direction. Sirius didn’t respond but shot his eyebrows up and gave a smirk. 

Now beside her, he cleared his throat and tried to tamp down the burst excitement he was feeling to be back in her presence again. 

“Can I sit here?” Lily looked up at him. She had put her hair up in a ponytail and little wisps of hair curled around her jaw. James felt like she was just taunting him at this point whether she knew it or not. 

Without saying anything she shifted her books over an inch and gestured for him to sit. Class started and despite not interacting with one another, they could both feel tension radiating off each other's bodies. Lily was doing better at focusing, taking clear and accurate notes and otherwise not giving attention to her neighbor. James on the other hand was barely holding it together. He tried to keep looking ahead at the professor but every shift her body made sent a shock through his system. Sitting next to her meant he could see how she would sometimes rest her quill against her lips when she was thinking; how her neck and jaw sloped out of her collared shirt and were such a lovely shade of cream; that her handwriting was so beautifully looped and curled with every stroke. 

It was going to kill him.

With another hour left to go in class, James’ emotions were reaching crisis levels of unbearable. With a split second decision, he ripped off a piece of parchment and scribbled something down before folding it up and casually placing it on the page of Lily’s open book. Still taking notes, she looked down at it for a beat before continuing as if nothing occurred. 

James, feeling a bit silly and terrified, tried his best to not look in her direction. After five minutes, he watched her hand pick up the parchment and gently unroll it. 

Lily looked down at the note. In an erratic hand was written:

I have wanted to kiss you again all afternoon. 

She folded the note back up neatly and put it in her pocket. If she had any feelings about what was written, she wasn’t showing it. She went back to taking notes, leaving James to desperately glance at her from time to time, wishing for some sort of acknowledgement. 

By about the 6th time he not so secretly gave her a yearning look, she stopped writing and peered over to meet his glance. 

“Stop fidgeting. I read the note.” Despite giving no indication of her feelings of its contents, James took this as closure enough and tried his best to be a good boy the rest of class. 

By the time everyone was getting up to leave, James had given up hope. I shouldn’t be pushing her. Clearly she isn’t ready. Merlin I’m so sodding thick. 

Not wanting to ruin things even worse, he nodded curtly towards Lily and then bounded over to Sirius who’s eyebrows had not descended from his face. 

“Have a nice time with your new mate,” Sirius mocked once James caught step with him. James mumbled a low sod off as they kept walking down the corridor. 

“H–Hey! Potter!” Lily’s voice rang out from behind him. She was standing in the doorway of the class waving her arm at him. 

“I had a question about the lesson today–could you help me for a second?” 

James was puzzled. She hardly said a word to him in class and certainly seemed to understand the lesson enough to even answer some of the professor’s questions. He shrugged, and turned to Sirius. 

“I won’t wait up,” Sirius responded immediately with a snicker. He winked at Lily who made a scoffing sound and then turned on his heel. James walked back to where Lily was standing and she ushered him into the now deserted classroom. 

“So, uh, what did you need–” But she was on him before he could finish. Shoving the door closed with her heel (expertly, James noted) she grabbed his face, threaded her hands into his hair and caught his mouth on hers. 

“I wanted you to kiss me all afternoon too,” She gasped out when their lips separated. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for the second time today, fitting their mouths back together. He pushed her up against one of the tables and she leaned on it for support as their combatting urgency pushed them together. 

“You did?” He groaned into her ear, now peppering kisses up her jaw and on her earlobe. He could feel her chest heaving against him and her breath catch with every kiss. 

“It wasn’t obvious to you?” She pulled his head which was making its way now towards her neck back up to hers to catch his lips once more. His calloused hands that were wrapped around her waist pushed up her jumper a bit, exposing some skin and he took the opportunity to place his hands on her bare back. 

She melted into him. It felt like just yesterday it would have been impossible to be in this moment, but now Lily was grasping onto him with such need, she felt out of control. The feel of his hands radiated heat inside her and she pushed herself into him more. She ran her hands down his shoulders before encircling them around his neck–making note of how slender yet toned his upper body was. Finally it was making sense why other girls fancied him so much all these years…

“Go out with me.” It wasn’t a question, he breathed it into her mouth when they had come up for air. His glasses now askew, he kissed her cheek softly before starting his journey placing kisses on her jawline.

“No.” 

It wasn’t what he had expected. He opened his eyes and pulled back to look at her. She was flushed and eyeing his lips hungrily to continue kissing. This was not the look of someone who wanted to decline his offer, but leaning in to kiss the bit of neck under his ear, she repeated: “No, I can’t.”

James snapped back to reality and pulled her away. “Why not?”

Lily looked around as she searched for words. “It’s just not a good time. I-I can’t explain it. It’s just with NEWTs and–”

“You won’t go out with me because of NEWTs,” James burst out into a sardonic laugh. 

“Merlin Evans, I knew you were a bit of a sacred character, but that seems a little low.”

Lily blushed deeply and absent mindedly brushed back her tousled hair. 

“I just need some time. Can you respect that?” She was imploring him. He could see the doubt flash in her eyes; he knew she half expected him to walk away right then and there.

“Yes. Yes of course.” He brushed her lips with his thumb before pressing his gently to hers again. He knew it wasn’t possible, but he wanted to convey to her how much he wanted this. Whatever it was they had, he didn’t care, as long as this continued. 

“I won’t ask you again, but c-can we still….” His voice trailed off, not knowing how to proceed. He didn’t even know if he knew what he was asking. If we could still study together? If we could still share a good bout of sexual tension? If we could snog senseless after class, preferably multiple times a day?

“We’ll see.” She swatted his chest playfully before he wrapped his arms around her again and kissed her with as much fervor he could give. 

“I’ll take those odds.”

________________________________________________________________________

The rest of the month was a blur. NEWTs were fast approaching and between actually studying, Lily and James found new ways to keep their new situationship under the radar. At first, it was just their weekly transfiguration lessons that turned into snogging sessions. Then, they added a second “lesson” to the week. By the third week they had been able to find stolen time at least once a day to at least give each other a quick kiss or touch before going on with their day. 

Surprisingly, James had been doing a brilliant job of hiding it. Besides Lupin’s side-eye every once in a while when Lily greeted them in the corridors, none of his mates had caught on to the new change in events. Already adorned with the title of “friend of the marauders” Lily and her mates would often join the boys for meals and generally start to banter with them in the halls. Lily prayed that no one noticed during these times that sometimes James’ hand would rest a little too close to hers on the bench or that sometimes she would forget herself and move a rogue hair out from behind his glasses. 

They were signs of change though. Lily was never one to really get into the team spirit when it came to quidditch, but Marlene and Alice had both noted when she got a newfound interest in the sport. Sometimes caught reading Quidditch through the Ages before bed, she seemed almost too excited to go to the upcoming match. 

“Didn’t strike you as a cheerleading type,” Alice remarked in the dorms that morning as Lily looked for a suitable outfit for the match. 

“Actually, now that I think about it, did you ever actually go to the matches before?” 

Lily scoffed. “Alice, don’t be thick. I’m not that un-spirited. Besides, we only have one year left and this one is about over. Might as well put in some effort.” 

Alice, who had been trying to study for her potions NEWTs, let out a sigh and pushed her book off the bed in distress. Lily stopped her rummaging and picked the book off the ground.

“Not going so well?” In response, Alice laid back and shoved her pillow into her face. 

“You know if you wanted, I’m happy to help,” Lily offered. She knew how much Alice was stressed to get good marks in order to get into her Auror training. 

“What? And take away your snogging time with the Quidditch captain?” Alice peeked an eye out from under the pillow and watched as Lily’s face turned red. 

“It’s not possible to ruin something that's not happening, stop trying to fish.” Lily tried to make it sound as true as possible. 

“I guess I am fishing, yeah,” Alice admitted, sitting back up. “You just..seem different with him now.”

“There’s nothing to say. We are just really good friends–that's it.” Despite feeling like her delivery was shaky at best, Alice dropped her prodding and joined Lily in getting ready. 

There was a horrific storm beginning when the girls started to head down to the pitch. Lily wasn’t super versed in the world of Quidditch, but something seemed dangerous about flying around in lightning riddled skies. She wrung her hands nervously as they walked towards the main courtyard.

James was standing just inside the main foyer with some of his teammates in tow. All of them in their uniforms and donning their brooms, James had traded in his signature glasses with goggles that were now hoisted up on his forehead, further pushing his hair in all directions. He spotted Lily and gave her a huge grin. 

“Great day for a game!” He exclaimed to the girls. He looked like a little boy at Christmas. Lily looked outside and watched the courtyard trees bend horizontal from the wind.

“Seems like you should postpone it. Don’t you have a say being captain and all?” James looked out the window and shrugged. 

“Nah, looks fine to me!” He positioned his goggles over his eyes and started towards the door. 

“Wait!” Lily called out. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at James. Impervious! A silver aura appeared for a moment on his goggles.

James smiled broadly. “Always brilliant Evans,” he said as he turned toward the door. 

Despite the monsoon, the game went as planned. James scored 35 goals within the first half, effectively obliterating the Hufflepuff team. By the two hour mark, the only need for the snitch to be caught was to end the game—Gryfindor had already scored enough points to guarantee the win. 

At their victory, the Gryffindor crowd made their way onto the pitch despite the pouring rain. James, who landed to greet the crowd, peeled his jersey off and raised his hands bare chested. Despite the chaotic energy of the group, Lily stood stunned and regarded a shirtless and wet James making his way through the crowd. She had never seen him without anything off before–and it worried her that she wanted to see more. 

“God she's not even pretending to not stare,” Marlene snorted to Alice as they watched their friend continue to shamelessly oggle the quidditch captain. 

Lily snapped out of it and shushed her friends. “Sod off, I was just bothered by the rain, that's all.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The Gryffindor common room was mayhem. Sirius had convinced Mme. Rosmerta to “donate” barrels of butterbeer to the event and everyone was quickly falling into a celebratory haze. Lily sat on the couch with a butterbeer and watched Marlene talk up one of the beaters on the team while Alice had snuck off with Frank hours ago. 

James, now wearing a dry jersey and his usual glasses, was at the center of the fray, singing and cheering along with the rest of his team. Lily tried not to take note of how many times a girl sidled up to congratulate him on his performance. Currently, 5th year Iris Melborne had found her way to his side for the sixth time within the hour—not that she was counting. 

Not dropping her stare, she felt someone plop down next to her. “Doesn’t feel good does it?” Sirius was swishing a bit of firewhiskey in his cup before downing it all in one gulp.

“Not that I’m jealous that James gets all the attention after the matches—but maybe my mum was onto something when she said I was an attention whore. God help her, it would be the first time she was right.” 

She took a jug of firewhiskey that was sitting on the side table and poured himself some more before pouring a bit into Lily’s cup unprompted. 

“I think you might be drunk Black,” responded Lily. She could tell he was prodding for something, and she wasn’t in the mood to play along. Across the room Iris laughed dramatically at something James said and put a hand on his arm. Disgusting

“You should tell him you know. Not that that git deserves any more reason to have an ego–but you know, it would make him happy.”

Sirius was grinning lazily at Lily and without a good response, Lily downed her drink before getting up. 

“Thanks for the life coaching, Black.”

“Anytime, Friend.” Lily rolled her eyes and left Sirius to fill up his drink for a third time. 

At her approach, she saw James’ demeanor shift and he quickly turned away from Iris who had begun chatting up the Keeper. 

“Hey, good game.” She clanked her empty cup against his. 

“Bad luck to cheers without a drink,” James retorted and poured some of his drink into hers. They looked at each other for a while–daring each other to make a move. Lily looked down at his new jersey and remembered what he had looked like shirtless out on the pitch and blushed. She wished she could have felt how his shoulders were like underneath it all..

Lily felt his hand discreetly pinch at her hip and she snapped out of her thought. 

“Can I see you later?” He lowered his voice. While keeping up the air that he was just having regular small talk, his eyes were saturated with yearning. She felt his hand which had been lingering a bit too long at her hip graze its way on her side before dropping beside him. 

“I-I have patrols soon. Until midnight.” It was true despite her attempts to get Remus to switch. 

“Ooh, drinking before the job then.”

“Shut it Potter.” He gave her an amused grin. He loved to get her wound up. 

“Then I’ll come find you.” She looked at him pointedly for any sign of sarcasm, but he was being serious. 

“Seems like a bad idea to tell a prefect you are going to be drunkenly wandering the halls in the middle of the night,” she smirked. 

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take.” He smiled, “And I’m not that drunk. Certainly will be in working form by that time.” 

“Something tells me nothing good can come from you doing that.” She made her words’ double meaning very clear. They had only just begun snogging, but their urgency to be together seemed to rapidly increase. She was starting to be unsure how long they could keep this up without any fallout. 

“You know I’m always up to no good, Evans.” He gave her side a little squeeze again and parted his mouth expectantly. She hated how much she liked it when he looked at her like that.  One of his teammates came out of the crowd and wrapped an arm around James' neck. Being pulled into another round of cheering, he gave her a wink and mouthed “later” before disappearing in the crowd.

[lya-dustin]

All is Bliss

(in the court of Aemma the Great)

Or Aemma Velaryon is forced to marry Aegon to keep them from usurping her and her mother, only the marriage nor the scheme work leading her to consider the only option left: usurping him.

(Aka Aemma x Aemond in an Au inspired by the Great)

Gif by @merlinaddams

@darylandbethfanforever9 @mercedesdecorazon

Rated M: for canon typical things like underage drinking, alcohol abuse, court intrigue, mentions of sex, stillbirths etc🔞

No matter how much they tried, her wedding to Aegon happens.

Perhaps marriage will change him.

Those are the only words mother can say as they dismount and change into more acceptable clothes.

Aemma has known since she was old enough to understand that Aegon was to be her husband to keep the peace.

Not Aemond whom she had been closer to in age and friendship, Aegon simply because he was born first and was mother’s challenger to her place in the succession.

There were many stories about Aegon and all were bad.

He had fathered a bastard on Lord Beesbury’s niece, another one on a girl who’s maidenhead he won at the Street of Silk and reportedly sired the stillborn twins on his sister, who had been married off to Daeron Velaryon at great haste.

She hoped that last one was false, gods know Helaena did not deserve that nor Daeron.

Aegon was a drunk, a lecher, a fool and had no taste for being useful.

But perhaps he won’t be as bad as they say, maybe he is just judged to harshly, Aemma tells herself as she pretends to be happy as they are put into a carriage and smuggled into court like criminals.

She is utterly disappointed upon their first meeting.

To give them a chance to know each other, they are given exactly one orchestrated accidental meeting in the godswood garden.

Septa Teora is to pretend she is reading on a bench, Ser Erryk is to stand there and make sure she doesn’t run for the hills.

“You look shorter in your portraits.” He says as they almost stand on equal height.

Aegon reeks of wine even if he looks well enough to stand.

He is handsome, but there is no desire to it.

They’ve never gotten along, once she decked him for pulling her hair and breaking her dolls and his mother had the fucking audacity to say she brought it on herself.

But that was then, this is now, she tells herself.

“I inherited the Velaryon height, your highness.” Aemma pretends to be demure when all she wants to do is be anything but that.

“And the looks, and the blood I see.” He said thinking it a clever jape.

A clear dig at her brothers being Harwin’s.

“I have been told I have an uncanny resemblance to my late aunt.” Aemma simply nodded.

“Glad to know you have grown into a real princess and stopped being the insolent brat you were six years ago, dear niece. My dear, dear sister really outdid herself, I hope to thank her for giving me such a fine mount.” He said with a wink.

Oh joy, she might have to take up Daemon’s offer to make her a widow the moment the need arises.

“First, third and fourth and even fifth, I wonder where the second went?” Aemma wonders out loud as she perused her grandfather’s private library, hoping to find something to occupy her time before her books arrive later today.

“Over here.” A voice said from behind her. It sounds vaguely familiar, but she cannot put her finger on it.

“Thank you, good ser.” She says turning to take the offered book.

“Neither a knight, nor good, but I will take it as a compliment.” Aemond One Eye says with seemingly bored look.

Same bored look he had when he wanted to look mature at one and ten.

“Thanks anyway, Aemond.” She does something else, gives him the third volume in exchange for the second.

“I did not take you for a girl who likes philosophy, Aemma.” He says and both take a seat on opposite couches.

They used to hide here from Aegon and their family and read on the rug on the floor.

Sometimes Helaena would come, just not as often as Aemond.

Grandfather let them and even introduced them to philosophy.

Something needed if they wish to rule justly, he had said as he asked them to read the first book.

A shame it couldn’t be Aemond she married.

“I enjoy a good novel just as anyone does, but grandfather did say to be good queen I must understand how to rule.” Aemma said kicking her pattens off and stretching out on the couch.

“If only Aegon knew that.” He grumbles thinking she didn’t hear.

If his brother spoke of him like that, then it was worse than she heard.

“I am quite fond of Boethius, I am relieved to know there is at least one person here who reads his works too.” She supplies in hopes of getting him to converse with her.

Only a few hours here and already she feels so lonely.

“There are few us here, the Faith added his works to their lost of condemned books, but they cannot touch father’s library under penalty of death.” He responds, letting her know Queen Alicent the Pious’ reign of terror is still ongoing. “Mother is very adamant on enforcing the High Septon and the Most Devout’s orders in Court.”

And so they spend the next hour.

Catching up on each other, the on goings of the realms, books, Boethius’ The Consolation of Philosophy (of which they were reading in its original High Valyrian) and anything that came to mind until her Septa came looking for her.

“A shame I have to go.” Aemma admits as they part ways in the hall.

If only he had been born first.

The wedding is fine, everything appears to be exactly as it is supposed to.

Aemma dances with her groom, his brothers, her brothers and while he is not completely horrible, Aegon is still Aegon.

If you opened him up, it would not be blood but wine pouring out of him.

He reeks of drink when he kisses her at the Sept, he is a drunken fool by the time the dancing is in full swing.

He fondles servants and noblewomen alike, complains that she is taller than him in her heeled shoes and calls her dull when she and Helaena talk about books with Aemond at some point.

By the time the bedding comes she has drunk more wine than she has ever done in her life.

She isn’t what you would call drunk, but she knows she will be regretting it on the morrow and not remembering a damn thing after this last glass.

But it helps, especially when men with their grubby hands and dirty japes disrobe her and leave her as naked as the morning she was born.

It is Aemond who provides a bit of relief.

“I will carry her, you sots are too drunk to treat your future queen as she deserves.” He says picking her up in his arms with care and looking ahead instead of downwards.

Something she thanks him for as he carries her into the bridal chamber.

He chuckles as he deposits her safely onto a divan by the bed, “You did call me good ser this afternoon, Aemee.”

“I wish it had been you.” She says wanting to kiss him.

“You don’t mean that.” He said pulling away and leaving just as drunk women deliver a naked Aegon to the chamber.

----

Notes: Boethius is a 6th century Roman philosopher who's works were on the list of condemned works in 13th century by the Catholic church. He influeced virtually all medieval philosophy.

[papastarion]

Papastarion Headcanons Pt. 2

Is this going to be my brand? I feel like this is going to end up being my brand. Not that I’m complaining.

•I subscribe to the popular headcanon that Astarion is a stargazer, and I think he’s fairly well-versed in the constellations and other celestial bodies that dot the Faerûn night sky. With his name meaning “little star” and Thea’s name having its own star-based meaning, he decides to make a tradition of giving their children a secondary name, with each coming from a different constellation that he maps from the night they’re born. These are also used as terms of endearment.

•Their two adopted daughters have their own constellation-names, too, chosen from the day they met.

•You know how elves have good hearing? He knows Thea’s pregnant before Thea knows. Nights are quiet when she sleeps, and when you suddenly start hearing two heartbeats from one body, it doesn’t take long to figure out what could be going on (especially when Larian upped your INT from a 9 to a 13.) As a Castlevania fan, I think his suspicions are confirmed when Thea has a full-scale blow up very similar to Sypha’s when they wind up in an unintentional ambush and Thea starts throwing around curses in every language—which is very out of character.

•At first, Astarion is terrified he won’t know how to manage disciplining the kids when necessary without losing his temper. Cazador may be dead and gone, but so many of those scars linger, and the last thing he wants is to create scars for the kids because of the ones he carries. Thea has her own fears given her lineage, but they both create quite the balanced team.

•He is simply Dad. With four boys and three girls, I hate to say that he is a Boy Dad or Girl Dad. So he is just Dad. He’s good with kids because they’re his and he would do anything for them.

•Thea’s a half-elf, and therefore very much needs sleep, so Astarion tries to take care of nightly needs that as much as he can so she can try to sleep. Of course there are certain things he can’t do, but Thea wouldn’t want him to do it all, anyway.

•He’s so proud of each milestone. First words are his favorite, though, even if the first word isn’t “papa.” Two of the kiddos do have that as their first word, however.

•They have so many family portraits done over the years. As they grow as a family, and to keep track of how their kids change over the years. He doesn’t want to forget what they looked like at any stage of their life.

•They all know Papa’s a vampire, and that they’re dhampirs. Astarion and Thea don’t tell them exactly how their father become one, not while they’re so young. But they all learn in time, when Astarion and Thea think they’re ready to hear it. They’re very transparent parents.

•There’s nothing more chaotic and yet endearing than introducing the kids to their old allies when the chances arise. Nero, their firstborn, is only a few months old when he meets Gale of Waterdeep. Gale holds Nero for approximately five seconds before Tara hops onto Gale’s shoulder and gives her own opinion of the little dhampir, and then lectures Gale for not have any of his own little ones yet when the vampire and the Bhaalspawn managed it so quickly.

•Nero comes along very quickly, in Gale’s defense. He’s born less than a year after the saving of Baldur’s Gate, because it’s Thea and Astarion and that’s their luck—for Thea to get pregnant not long after reinitiating the physical aspect of their relationship, not that either of them are going to complain. Astarion did tell her he wanted it all, even if children didn’t come to mind in that moment.

[shoshiwrites]

Ship Questions: for Kay/DeMarco, 1. (pre-relationship ), 7. (general), 11. (domestic life)? please and thank you?

1. How did they first meet?

Kay comes up to Thorpe Abbotts ostensibly to take some portraits for Jo’s pieces, but also to see what exactly her friend is up to (going cuckoo for flier boys). 

Dear diary I haven't seen my friend in two weeks and now she's in love with a pilot 

Jo brings her around, and they really meet at one of the dances. “Which one of you is going to ask me to dance,” she asks, while only looking at Benny. He’s very amused, all “twist my arm” about it and hands Meatball off to Buck (“hand me the dog, not the girl” — @basilone). They’re not looking for anything serious at the time, just to enjoy themselves. And they do:)

Douglass, somewhere: so is there a brunette reporter factory somewhere and can we go there

7. Who takes the lead in social situations?

I think Kay’s more likely to, given her personality, but Benny’s not a shrinking violet. She’ll be in the pretty dress introducing the two of them, and he’ll be next to her smiling. But he handles himself just fine and might even make a new friend striking up a convo. 

11. Who likes to dance?

Both of them🥰🥰

Ship asks here and here!

[beetleisblue]

“Ive missed you.”

——————————

Back with another lee amity fic that GAAAAASP, isn’t lumity??

Anyway, here’s the sibling au fic nobody asked for but I wanted to write.

Summary: In a sibling Au, Amity goes to visit her big sister, Amelia, who’s been living on her own for a while. The two catch up for lost time, and Amelia gets her sister to lighten up.

Ler: Amelia/Beta!Amity

Lee: Canon!Amity

Warning: yes, the tickle part of this fic is very focused on, but I’d honestly call this more of a fluff fic. If you dislike tickle fics though, this isn’t for you!

On with the show.

“So,” Amelia began, flipping through channels on the crystal ball, sitting on the couch with Amity in Amelia’s small apartment.

“I haven’t seen you since you were like, 10. “ She continued, shuffling around on the leather below her. “You still hanging out with those mean-ass twerps?” She looked to the side at her little sister. Amity’s eyes widened for a moment, knowing that Amelia was referencing Boscha and her gang. She paused for instance, then spoke;

“No, I’ve been hanging out with better people, I think. Me and.. me and Willow.. are actually friends again.” She said carefully, looking up to meet the eyes of her big sister. She felt a playful jab in her shoulder, and heard Amelia chuckle. “Dang I missed a lot, huh Mittens? New hairdo, new friends..”

She raised her eyebrow teasingly, “New girlfriend?”

Amity turned bright red and gave an embarrassed little gasp. “H-How did you know about that?!” Amelia chuckled again, now giving up on finding something to watch to instead turn and face the other girl. “You didn’t think Ed and Em weren’t gonna tell me about your little relationship, did you?” She smirked. “So tell me about her. Is she as dorky as you?”

Amity’s blush held as she tried to find the words to describe Luz. She shuffled, then took a breath. “She’s.. really sweet.. and cute. And genuine. And she likes Azura, like me!”

Amelia rolled her eyes, “So she IS a nerd too.. you’re perfect for eachother then, huh?”

Amity just shrugged awkwardly.

“Cmon, are you like, incapable of laughing? I haven’t even seen you smile that much since I’ve picked you up! I woulda though you would be happy to get a break from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.” Amelia said, poking the girl in her ribs. Amity gave a surprised squeak.

Amelia smirked devilishly, an idea working its way in her brain.

“Remember when we had to do the family portrait every year, and you didn’t wanna smile?~” she teased, getting a position that Amity knew oh too well. The girl was ready to pounce, and Amity shuffled back with a nervous smile on her face. “Y-Yes..?” She answered, knowing what was to come.

“And then I would put my hands riiiiight here..” Amelia continued, placing her hands on her sister’s sides, her thumbs inward on her tummy as if she was texting on her scroll.

A little “Eep!” Escaped Amity’s mouth, and her sister grinned wider.

“And just as the photographer took the picture, I’d do.. THIS!”

Amelia squeezed her hands, and just as she did, Amity squeaked out into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, so you CAN still laugh, huh?” The older girl said teasingly, continuing her attack.

“Stohohop!” Amity whined through her laughter, attempting to fight her sister off. She never did back in the pictures, the proof being her huge smile that nobody else in the picture really possessed. They weren’t even really supposed to smile, but Amelia never wanted to do things her family did, and would always smile right along beside Amity (If not as giddy-looking)

She was part of the reason why Amity decided to act out of tradition, too. In truth, she was just following in her big sister’s footsteps.

Now though, she only giggled and squeaked and laughed her head off.

It had been awhile.

Not the being tickled part. No, Luz did that to her many times, and she’d never let on the fact that she didn’t exactly hate it that much. (She definitely enjoyed it.)

But Amelia, playing with her like they were younger..

Amelia..

seeing Amelia. It had been awhile.

Amity guessed the older girl felt it too, as she had blinked, stopping her assault.

Almost there for a second, Amelia could she see her little sister in her arms, just as young as the last time she saw her.

Her smiling, giggly face, and how seeing it for just a few moments was worth the lecture she would receive from her mother about how ‘undignified’ she was.

She was snapped back into reality as Amity hugged her tight, the sweetest little giggle in her voice as she spoke.

“I missed you.”

Amelia smiled and returned the hug tighter, closing her eyes.

“I missed you too, you dork.”

[theladycarpathia]

Empty Places chapter 2- Cold Spots

Back to chapter 1 

Creel House. Since its creation, this house has attracted bad luck, violence, and murder. A site of great evil? Or just a magnet for coincidences? We’re here to discover the truth, today on Mystery Spot!

“Did that sound cheesy?” Robin complains, twisting her head back to glare at the framed portrait of the Creels, as though they’re the ones responsible for their bad dialogue. “I think that sounded cheesy!” Billy raises an eyebrow and presses pause.

“It sounded cheesy,” he says bluntly. “You sound like an infomercial.” Robin sticks out her tongue and adjusts her beret. It slipped a little during her speech and now threatens to topple off onto the fraying carpet below.

“Fine,” she mutters. “I’ll think of something else. Even Steve’s intro sounded better than that.” Steve looks up from where he's fiddling with the ring light. He’s removed himself from this particular piece of theater as he has no design to stand near that horrible portrait or stare into Billy's eyes. Damnation all round.

“Hey,” he says, mildly offended. “You weren’t around when I was recording that!” 

“It’s an educated guess, your intros are always cheesy,” Robin says and then sighs heavily. “Okay, maybe we should come back to this. You guys want to go have a look around? There’s two more floors above this, including an attic, and I think there’s a basement too.”

Steve makes a face. “I’m not going to the basement,” he says automatically, because he does not care about being seen as a jittery coward, so long as it means he doesn’t have to go to the basement. Basements are notoriously for murder rooms, and dark tunnels, and books covered in skin. No, thank you.

“I’ll take the basement,” Billy says, in a tone that implies that he knows exactly what Steve is doing. They once found a secret room in an old house that Billy had willingly gone into. He either doesn’t believe in squatters hiding in the walls or he’s very, very stupid. “You guys can head upstairs. Meet back in fifteen?” 

Robin grabs her bag from the table, digging for her recorder. “Sounds good. Walkies on?”

“Yes,” Steve says, before Billy can scoff at the idea…again. “It’s an old house, Billy. You could fall through an old piece of floorboard and we might not find you until you’ve bled out. Turn on the damn walkie.” Billy digs out his walkie, clips it to his belt and makes an obvious show of switching it on.

“Happy?” he asks and Steve tries to not let it bother him. Billy’s just like this. Reckless, wild, immortal. Safety precautions are just a joke to him. 

“Ecstatic,” Robin says, dryly. She tucks the recorder into her pocket, along with her walkie, and dumps her bag back down. “Don’t get dead. Let’s go, Harrington.” 

Steve lingers just long enough to watch Billy wander out of the room first, heading for the basement door, before he trails after Robin. He can see by her face that he’s not subtle. 

“Lech,” she hisses, tugging on his arm. The stairs are still pretty fucking incredible, a grand sweeping staircase of some rich, dark wood, carved into delicately sculpted banisters. Steve shrugs.

“He’s a dick but he’s got a great ass,” he says practically. And he would know. He’s the sucker who gets to see the curve of his best friend’s rear in boxers every time he sleeps over, after every basketball game as teenagers, that one time Billy jumped into the lake. 

“I’d agree but my problem is that he has a dick,” Robin says, bounding up the stairs. Steve follows more carefully in her wake, mindful of how the wood creaks under her weight. “You’re on your own there.”

The second floor is pretty much the same as the first. Dusty, empty and abandoned and Steve has to resist the urge to sneeze. Robin drifts into the little girl’s room, looking at the faded pink teddies, the streaks of dust over the unicorn lamp. There’s a Barbie left on the floor, her blank plastic eyes staring judgmentally at their invasion. 

“I just keep thinking that this is just all…really sad, you know?” she says, her voice echoing through to Steve in the hall. When Steve steps through the door, he finds her gently touching another family portrait with her fingertips. “You know? Like, they left everything. All their possessions and their memories. What on Earth scared them so badly that they did that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says, but he feels it too. There’s something strange about this house, not just in the unnerving wrongness of it all, but the idea of a family just leaving and never coming back. No matter what Billy says, something had to have happened to make them leave everything in their lives behind. All they took was the kids, the dog and the car. Every family photo, every soccer trophy, every piece of artwork on the fridge. No one does that unless you’re absolutely desperate.

“If we found out why we’d be legends,” Robin continues, excitement coloring her voice. Steve tilts his head back to look at the glittery pink lampshade, faded after a decade in the sun. They probably would be - crime podcasters have helped make progress on cold cases before, and breaking the mystery of Creel House would definitely earn them some fame. Maybe enough to get him and Ro out of Family Video, which isn’t really where he thought he’d be rotting so soon after high school. Billy used to work at the local pool during the summer and recently - begrudgingly - got work at the local diner. 

“Ro, if it was bad enough that they left one night without even taking their urn of Grandma’s ashes, I doubt that we really want to know,” Steve points out, and walks back out into the hallway. Robin follows, stopping only to look at the family portrait again.

“This little girl is all grown up by now,” she says and Steve looks at the remaining doors, more rooms and lives left behind.

“I hope so,” he says, because it sounds to him that Creel House always gets its blood.

XXX

The little boy’s room has a football deflating by the door. The parents’ bedroom has dust coating over the full length hanging mirror, a dress still lying discarded on the bed. There’s more mold on the shower curtain that they care to think about so they leave quickly. 

“Didn’t you say there was an attic?” Steve asks, pivoting on his heels to see which door is left. There are two and after a shared shrug, they each step up to one.

“One?” Robin says, hand resting on the doorknob. Steve grins and does the same.

“Two,” he says, closing his hand around the metal.

“Three!” they say as one and push open their doors. Robin groans.

“Damn,” she says grumpily, dramatically leaning on the door frame. “I got the study.” 

But Steve’s door has opened to a small, narrow staircase, a spider carefully making its web in the corner of the door. He reaches out for the pull light but a few quick yanks prove that it’s long burnt out.

“I’ll go up,” he says, digging in his bag for a torch. “Follow me when you’re done?” And then he puts his foot on the bottom stairs, ducks under the spider’s intricate work, and begins to climb.

The attic is…an attic. It’s so caked in dust that Steve has to cough once he takes his first deep breath. Like everywhere else, it’s filled with relics of another time, the remnants of a normal family life. Boxes labeled BABY CLOTHES, XMAS DECS, and CONCERT T-SHIRTS. There’s even a Christmas tree, still in its box in the corner, and Steve wonders if it’s the same one the kids were sitting under in the photo downstairs. 

“Creepy,” he mutters, and that’s when the bell starts to chime.

He’s glad that no one is around to hear his squeak, as he whirls around to face the source of the noise. A large, polished grandfather clock sits at the very end of the attic, against one wall, the pendulum swinging back and forth with every chime. Swallowing his nerves, Steve inches closer. The time is all wrong, the hands set to the twelve and the two. He wonders if the clock thinks it’s early in the morning or early afternoon. 

Wait. Two o’clock. Two chimes. So why won’t it stop chiming?

Steve freezes, suddenly unnerved. It’s fine. It’s a decades old clock. It’s definitely busted. It doesn’t know the right time so there’s probably no way that it’s going to chime the right amount of times either.

No. No, wait, that’s still all wrong. It’s been well over two decades - closer to three - since the Packards left their house. Steve doesn’t know much about physics and that shit but he knows enough that stuff needs power. Electric, batteries, some kind of fuel. And like a lot of clocks, this one would need to be wound. It wouldn’t keep going for nearly thirteen years. So who wound it?

Oh shit, he’s going to regret this.

He steps forward carefully, clutching his torch like a weapon, the beam cutting across the ceiling and occasionally illuminating the pale strings of another web. The clock continues to ring, the sound taking on an unnerving tone, each one growing more distorted as the bell chimes. Up close, Steve can see the thick crack across the glass face, the smears of dust on the curves of the wood. But just as he reaches out to touch it, the dark crack split from the eight all the way up to the two begins to squirm and Steve bites back a yelp as a small black spider emerges from the clock face.

“What the fuck?” Steve mutters, retrieving his hand and carefully turning the torchlight over the clock. The spider skitters over the glass, unaware of the intruder in its midst. Steve exhales, chastising himself for being startled. It’s a broken old clock and a tiny spider has taken up residence. It’s fine. 

But then Steve sees the second spider. 

And then the third.

And then the crack froths and hundreds of the little bastards emerge from the clock face, tumbling over each other in their race to get out, turning the clear glass a squirming inky black as they spread.

Steve bolts.

He promptly smacks into Robin on the way down and only her quick reflexes stop them both careening down the small staircase.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Robin curses, pulling herself- and him - upright by tugging firmly on the hand-rail to right them both. Steve lets go of her shirt, the fabric now seriously crumpled from his damp fingers. She continues to look annoyed, until she sees the fear on his face.

“What is it?” she asks and pushes her way past him up the remaining stairs. Steve drops down on the closet step, heart hammering in his chest. He hasn’t felt like this since they found that odd bloodstain in the living room of that empty cottage. But even peeling up the carpet to see the massive dried rust underneath doesn’t quite feel like this. 

“What?” she asks, looking baffled. She peers back down the steps towards him, her face unusually anxious. “Steve, what is it?”

Once the blood pounding in his ears fades, Steve can immediately hear what’s wrong. The chiming has stopped. 

“What?” he says, in disbelief and pushes himself up so he can climb back up the steps. Aside from Robin, and her overwhelming aura of worry, the attic is exactly as it was.

Except for one thing.

“There was a clock here,” Steve says stupidly, pointing at the now unoccupied patch of wall. He turns to look at Robin. “A big grandfather clock and it was chiming, and it had spiders coming out of it. It was right here!”

Robin stares at the wall. The now empty patch of wall. The expression on her face flickers between worry and bemusement.

“Bud, I love you,” she says, tilting her head. “But did you inhale something really old that you weren’t meant to?”

“No!” Steve howls in frustration. “There was a clock, okay? A big one and it kept chiming. Even though the clock hands were pointing to two o’ clock, it just kept chiming a lot. And who even would wind up a clock that old, okay? It’s not like the ghosts of the Creel kids are coming back to keep the old vanishing grandfather clock wound up!”

“Steve,” Robin says gently, face now turning to one of pity. “I get that you’re…having some issues. Like this house is really fucking weird and the whole Billy thing gets really obvious every time that we do a video, but can you chill?”

Steve turns and storms back downstairs.

Fucking murder house.

XXX

Steve stomps down the attic stairs, not even bothering to close the door behind him. A small petty part of him suggests that slamming the door would feel really satisfying but he pushes it down. 

He feels rattled and frustrated. Nothing about this day is going as planned and as he storms back down the main staircase he can’t help but think that maybe this is what they deserve. None of the other places they’ve explored have ever been like this, the remains of a family still waiting to be collected. It feels more like a violation than the old barns, the empty factory, the burnt out mill. Steve stops at the bottom of the staircase and drags a hand across his face.

It’s stupid. He’s letting this weird old house get to him.

Steve sighs and jams his torch back into his bag. They’ll need the lights soon, as the sun begins to set, but they’re good for now. Enough time to do a little scouting around for interesting spots, get some filming done. It’s been over a year since they started this and they have it down pat by now. Getting used to filming in the dark took some time in the beginning and they try not to do it too often for various reasons, but they decided today that filming some stuff as night fell would look really creepy.

Steve regrets that choice now. 

He heads back to the dining room, intending on waiting with the rest of their gear. Let his friends finish the walkthrough by themselves. He’s going to find Robin’s emergency chocolate and eat it in front of the Creels’ weirdo portrait.

But the dining room isn’t empty. To his surprise, Billy is standing by the wall, staring up at the picture frame. He must have finished up early, the basement taking less time than upstairs.

“I didn’t think you liked that picture,” Steve says, dumping his bag onto the table. Robin's bag is already there, as she prefers stuffing her pockets full of the tools she might need rather than carrying a large backpack around. And anything else that doesn’t fit, she makes Steve carry.

“I don’t,” Billy says shortly. “It’s a lie.”

“Okay?” Steve asks, unsure. These days he never quite knows how to handle interactions between him and Billy. He hates it because Billy’s still his best friend, having been there for nearly all of his life. He doesn’t want to not know how to talk to Billy.

But it’s become more and more inevitable as Steve’s crush grew into something unmanageable and persistent. Talking to Billy leaves him open to saying something stupid without Robin as a buffer, to Billy flirting with him, Billy making a dumb comment about the cute guy he went on a date with last week. 

“It is, though,” Billy says, gesturing up at the warm smiles of the Creels. “It’s all fake. People don’t pose for these family portraits because they’re really that happy. You have this huge fuck off painting in a room where they probably brought guests. It’s bullshit.”

“I suppose,” Steve says slowly, digging in the front pocket of Robin’s bag for a mini chocolate bar. He probably should know, as his own family have pictures just like that in their front room and they’re definitely only for show. He’s probably unable to see it in the same way that you can’t see the forest for the trees. Billy never had the kind of family that put on a front like that. No one gathered the Hargroves together for a cheesy group shot. “And they all died, in the end.”

“Hmm,” Billy murmurs and turns away from the portrait. His eyes move to the chocolate in Steve’s hand but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Did you find anything?” Billy asks curiously, the fading glow of the sunlight rippling off of his dirty blonde hair. Steve exhales, wondering in what universe it’s fair to make one man so fucking attractive.

“No,” he mutters mutinously, shoving the last of the chocolate bar into his mouth and stuffing the wrapper into his pocket. “Well, sort of. Upstairs is the same as down here. They left everything. But there was this freaky clock in the attic.”

“Okay,” Billy says, the single stud that he wears in his left ear glinting in the light as he fully turns to face Steve. “I’ll bite. Go ahead, Scooby Doo, what did you find?”

And sometimes Steve just wants to punch him in his stupidly gorgeous face. 

“I saw this weird clock,” Steve says, because it really does sound stupid now. Hey, audience, subscribe now to see Steve freak out at a clock! There’s probably a totally rational explanation but he’s going to freak the hell out about it anyway! Hell, they’d probably lose viewers. They’ve never tried a stunt like that before. Steve didn’t even have his camera rolling. 

Maybe Robin’s right. Maybe there’s like thirty year old drugs up in the attic that he breathed in.

“It was just chiming and shit,” Steve shrugs, wandering over to the freaky portrait of the Creels again. He has to admire the Packards for their bravery. If he’d just moved in and found this painting in his dining room, he’d have burned in a cleansing fire out in the backyard.

“And that’s freaky how?” Billy asks, sounding totally reasonable. 

“It vanished when Robin came up to see it,” Steve says sheepishly. “I know it sounds bullshit but I swear-”

“Hey,” Billy says and gives that brilliant smile, the one that makes moms go weak at the knees and persuades gym buffs into his bed. Steve feels his own knees go a little weak under the full power of it.

“I know you believe in all this weird, spooky shit but you’re not crazy,” Billy continues, his eyes a brilliant, impossible blue at this range. “And this house is really fucked up. Even I agree with that.”

“You do?” Steve asks, a little dumbfounded, because not once has Billy ever been creeped out by anything. They visited the old Miller barn once, where old man Miller supposedly hung each of his daughters from the rafters, and upon seeing the tattered rope hanging from the beams Billy had scoffed and said that some idiot had probably hung it up to trick gullible assholes. 

“Yeah,” Billy says simply. “I mean, you can feel it, can’t you? There’s something different about this one.”

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “There’s something different about this one.”

“Maybe there’s a reason for it,” Billy suggests. Steve snorts, taken aback.

“You’re kidding, right?” Steve says. “Should I get out a camera or will our ratings plummet? Billy Hargrove, born skeptic, admitting to the possibility of ghosts, ghouls and goblins?” Billy dramatically presses both hands to his chest, faking hurt.

“Ouch, Harrington,” Billy says, a teasing glitter in his eyes and something dips in Steve’s belly at that familiar challenge. High school basketball games had been hell. “That was right out of King Steve’s playbook.” Steve shrugs, turning his head away from Billy’ piercing gaze. 

“Yeah, well…” he mutters. “Just didn’t expect it.” He leans against the solid wood of the dining table, and doesn’t really think about the inevitable dust and dirt clinging to his rear until too late.

“I’m just saying,” Billy protests. “At some point the teenage investigators stumble across the genuinely haunted house.”

“No, thanks,” Steve says, because he’s seen that movie. Which is kind of every horror movie. “I do actually prefer that we stay the kids with a dog Scooby gang rather than the Sunnydale Scooby gang.” 

“Ok, but even they found actual ghosts sometimes, you know,” Billy says, and tugs up his sleeves, allowing that brief glimpse of his tanned arms, the leather cuff around one wrist. “Like, all of the movies have them find mummies and zombies and shit.”

“I may believe in this stuff,” Steve says frankly. “But I’d still prefer that we don’t stumble across the room in the basement with the chains and bathtubs full of blood. Okay?” Billy grins.

“I didn’t see much of that downstairs, I swear,” he says and then tilts his head up towards the ceiling. “Hey, where’s Robin?” Steve shrugs and looks up too. He hasn’t heard her footsteps for a while but maybe she stopped to film something. 

“Dunno,” he says, and immediately hates that apparently they can’t be alone together without needing Robin around. “What do you want to do? Wait for her?”

“We don’t have to,” Billy says, pivoting to lean against the wall across from Steve. “We could film something. It’s been a while since it was just the two of us.” 

“I guess,” Steve says vaguely, because a lot of that has been by design. He’s always been slightly worried that if he’s left alone with Billy for an unlimited amount of time he’ll do something stupid. He’s good at that, as his mother likes to remind him. He hops down from the table, intending to grab a camera. They might as well make use of the light. “I don't know why it turns out that way.”

“Well, that’s because you’re in love with me,” Billy says suddenly, like it’s obvious, and Steve stops dead.

“You…you knew?” he whispers, because oh God, Billy knew. Billy knew all of this time and he didn’t say anything. He probably just pitied poor Steve, the idiot with the crush. Everyone wants Billy. Billy could have just about anyone he wants. Steve can’t blame him for not choosing Steve. 

“Not that subtle about it, Stevie,” Billy chuckles, folding his arms across his chest. There’s something not very nice about that smile. It’s not Billy’s real smile - it’s the one he uses when he thinks the middle aged women at the pool are getting too close, too handsy. It’s the one he used to use on the courts when some asshole from the rival team used to call him a fag. It’s all teeth and venom, badly concealed disdain hidden behind Billy’s bright pearly teeth. Steve’s known Billy long enough to know when he’s faking it. 

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” Steve says, crushed. He feels a little bit numb inside, a little bit stupid for expecting any other outcome. Admittedly, this is worse. He thought he’d just get the ‘hey, we can still be friends, but I just don’t feel about you that way’ speech, followed by an awkward arm pat. Not whatever this is. 

“You’ve been in love with me since, what?” Billy asks, inspecting his nails like he has nothing else to do while he breaks Steve’s heart. “Freshman year? I mean, you’re not that great of an actor, Steve.”

“I…I don’t get why you’re being like this,” Steve protests, the sharp sting of tears coming to his eyes. He’s never known Billy to be so cruel and he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it. “I am in love with you and maybe you don’t feel the same way, but do you have to be such a dick?”

“You know I’m a dick,” Billy says bluntly. He’s still leaning against the wall, watching Steve with sharp blue eyes, as though this is just sport to him. “And yet you fell for me anyway. That’s the really stupid move on your part, Stevie. I’m a fuck up who’d rather screw half the basketball team rather than you and yet you love me anyway. You probably always will, which is the pathetic part. Did you honestly think that we’d stay friends?”

“We certainly won’t now!” Steve spits, taking a step back. But it’s no good because Billy follows, like a shark that has sensed blood in the water. 

“Well, maybe you should have said something years ago,” Billy retorts, sticking his fingers through his belt loops. “Broken off the friendship after that night at Robin’s. Do you remember? We watched the first three Die Hard movies right after the other until Robin fell asleep. It would have been easier then. Repressing things just isn't good for you, Steve.” But Steve barely hears his last words, staring at Billy in absolute horror.

“No, but…how did you know it was that night?” he asks, something crawling up the back of his spine. He never told anyone it was that night. Not even Robin knows. Steve remembers every second of that sleepover, the one they’d had before they’d all been shipped off to different places for Christmas. It had been the night he’d looked at his best friend and thought that he wanted something more. 

So how does Billy know?

“Steve!” The walkie barks furiously and Steve jerks his head down to the walkie still attached to his waist. The spell is broken, Billy looking startled as the voice continues to call for Steve.

Because it’s not Robin’s voice. It’s Billy’s. 

Steve whips his head back up, terror killing the words in his throat before they can reach daylight. It’s not possible. Billy is on the walkie. Billy is in front of Steve. Which one is real?

Billy sighs heavily before frowning ruefully. “Shame. I was having fun.”

“You're…you’re not…” Steve stutters and in his haste to get back from whatever this…thing is, his foot catches on the edge of the rug. He loses his footing and falls backwards, the walkie skidding away as he crashes to the ground. The Billy clone looks dispassionately at him and Steve wonders how he missed it before. There’s nothing in this Billy’s eyes.

“No, I’m not Billy,” it says, sounding amused, and Steve had been correct in his assessment that it was all just a game. He just hadn’t known that it wasn’t Billy’s game. “But I had you going, didn’t I?”

“Steve!” Billy’s voice continues to shout down the walkie like a siren song but Steve can’t make himself move to answer it. All he can do is curl his fingers into the threadbare rug and stare at the entity stalking towards him. 

“You made a mistake, coming into this house feeling like that,” the thing continues, dropping down into a crouch in front of Steve. Steve stares, open-mouthed, because every freckle, every dark lash, every curl in his hair is exactly the same. There was no way he ever could have guessed that this was merely a copy, even while this Billy spat poison at him with that cruel smile. He was expecting ghosts, see-through and wailing and rattling chains. He wasn’t expecting…this. 

“I…” Steve starts but the words stop as the thing moves its hand up to stroke his hair back from his face. Its fingers dig into Steve’s scalp and Steve holds still as it turns his face up. He can feel a warm breath on his skin but it smells strange. Old, musty, metallic. Inhuman.

“Yes,” the creature murmurs, studying every inch of Steve’s face with an unsettling amount of interest. “Yes, you’ll do.”

And then the creature is gone, leaving Steve slumped against the wall like a puppet without any strings. 

“Someone answer the fucking walkie!” Billy screeches down the receiver and Steve scrabbles to answer it. It slips from his cold, shaking fingers a few times before he can grip it properly.

“Billy?” he says, voice trembling, because he half expects this to be another trick, another Billy who will pull his heart out piece by piece, just to show him the tangled bloody mess of where Steve used to keep his love. But Billy just heaves a sigh of relief down the walkie, something ragged and familiar and human.

“Thank fuck, Steve,” he snaps, because that’s how Billy usually works. “I’ve been out of my mind. Shit’s weird down here. Are you okay?”

Steve pulls himself up and rests his back along the wall, just under the portrait. His heart is skipping in his chest, because they fucked up and ended up in the only actually fucking haunted house in America. With some shitty ghost who likes copying their faces and mocking their deepest insecurities.

But Billy doesn’t know. Billy didn’t just tell Steve that he was worthless for loving Billy. Everything is exactly the same as it was before.

“Yeah,” Steve says, hollowly. “I’m okay.”

Onto Chapter 3

@dragonflylady77 @cupc8keblonde @ihni

I genuinely can’t remember if anyone else wanted to be tagged for this specific fic so lmk!

[n0ctiluntill]

It's me again!!!

I am indeed intrigued about this AU. So did Mafuyu leave her mother on purpose? Did the mom kick her out? was it kind of like a bird leaving the nest kind of thing? Or was it more that little Mafuyu is still under her mother's custody, and she has to get home by a certain time? >:)

Also, does she learn new skills when she meets the gang? Are their areas like savepoints after Mfy realizes they are of no harm? Are there other enemies that aren't Mafumom?

Does Mafuyu have a weapon, if there are physical enemies? Would the combat be more like psychological warfare (I do not know exactly what that term means), where she has to talk out her inner emotions and feelings and stuff? Is it based off of the rest of her friends' lairs?(Like the candy shop has cute enemies with hidden abilities, Ena's art thingy has creatures with a high attack but low defense and no strategy, and Kanade has slowly poisoning enemies that gradually lower your stats until fighting is impossible).

Does HP or mental strength increase, to be able to fight MafuMom final boss? Are there times when you can try to fight your mom but if you don't have the mementos then you fail?

Also, will the Vocaloids be in any subplots or have any involvement in the story?

Thank you for coming to my Ted Ask,

Good luck,

Random person on the internet.

hey sorry for the wait it took me a while to gather all the ideas ( so many LMAO questions like you're going to develop a rn game. nvm really glad you got so consumed) !! you have very interesting thoughts, but my vision of the game is a little different from yours ... I think it's okay if I share my thoughts as well. It’s worth starting with the fact that mafuyu got lost by accident. It could be a busy street or a market where she was staring at a street musician (like miku?) however, this is not so important as the fact that mafuyu’s mother did not provide for this and she is very worried about her, and mafuyu, never getting into such situations, goes ahead somewhere.

Mgh, about skills..I think mafuyu can't do anything at all (THIS SOUNDS HORRIBLE). after meeting niigo, they and mafuyu discover something new for themselves. I say right away that this is not 100% niigo, due to the setting, their characters are slightly changed. but I try to fit in their canon conflicts. It is important for me to pass on life lessons. I still think it would be possible not to make friends with niigo, but I'm afraid that this will spoil the gaming experience.

accelli, I would not add bosses and enemies familiar to games at all. kanade's location - the memory room - would look like a large maze, in addition to the puzzle, the submitting paintings with butterflies could pose a threat. and at the end of the maze, she meets a mysterious girl with a piano who was unable to keep something valuable to her and locked herself in.

ena's location - drawing class and GHAH there we see an angry ena who either lost or realizes that she can't get better right now. in anger, ena scatters art objects, chairs, desks, and when she realizes that she almost killed mafuyu, she becomes very ashamed and draws a portrait of mafuyu as an apology. and mizuki breeds mafuyu in her shop for candy, and since she has no money, she has to work hard. I like your suggestions about enemies and their characteristics! but honestly, I don’t know where to put them.. if you have ideas, be sure to share them!

souvenirs are needed as a split between mafuyu yu and her mother. mafumom breaks everything that the girls have given, and she is absolutely angry at the new philosophy that mafuyu brought with her from the adventure.

my ideas are more suitable for a novel than a game, but I would like to make it completely logical and laconic in terms of story.

good luck and thanks for the questions, dude!

[pbandjesse]

Today was a pretty good day. I have a little bit of a headache right now but that's all right.

I have not made as much stuff today as I was hoping. But it was still a good day. Still productive. I slept all right. I woke up and gave myself a few minutes to lay in bed. When I got out of bed eventually I pulled everything off the bed and made it and went and got dressed and I feel pretty good. I decided to make myself a very nice breakfast. I used some hash browns and mix them with eggs and made this nice hash thing. Which was excellent. Then I vacuumed for a while. Cleaned up. And I just hung around. I didn't really want to do any stuff in my studio. And I just didn't have any motivation to go down to the car and bring anything inside that I really should have. I'm very behind on my knitting but I think I'm going to save a lot of it for being at the desk on Thursday and Friday and then bring it with me camping so I'm not that concerned.

But it was a nice morning. I decided to leave here a little early and drove over to the grocery store because I was hoping to get some dried strawberries. But I couldn't find them anywhere and then someone almost hit me in the parking lot because they were driving really really fast. I was a little annoyed but I would get to art with a heart around 12:15 which was exactly what I wanted to be there.

I didn't have to unarm the building though because people were already there. But then I was confused about rearming it so I did still rearm it and I hope that I did the correct thing. I got to meet our new volunteer whose name was Paris. And she is lovely. And Naomi came and then Mary Ellen. And it was just a really good day.

The groups were a little larger than last time and it was nice to figure out who was returning and who was new and we had some more girls that were very very sweet. Though a little stressed out about the project. Understandable. And I really tried to be encouraging to everyone and things were great.

The one issue though was that some of them were finishing a project from last week. Which is fine except I had no connection to the pieces getting stored. And Ireland's piece got a splash of yellow on it and she was so upset. Like on the verge of hurting herself she was getting so angry. And her mom tried to use white paint but the white paint they gave us was really thin so I came over and I asked if I could help. And I looked at the issue and I thought if I could get some more opaque white pain I could fix it. So I did exactly that and she calmed down and everything was fine. She kept apologizing and I was like it is okay I totally understand being upset. Not hurting my feelings at all. I'm glad I was able to help you. And she was in a great mood for the rest of the hour.

The second hour with the adults was also excellent. There was a couple new people and everyone really seem to enjoy making the portraits. When I had first got there I looked up the artist because their name was Kimmy and I didn't know anything about them and it turned out it was a boy so I'm really glad we looked up a video about them because I don't want to miss gender and artist because I don't know anything about them. And then there was a couple people who just wanted to keep painting and making more and more pieces which is fine with me. It was a good time.

We cleaned up pretty easily. I made sure the building was armed and we got everything together. We did leave their pieces on newspaper on the floor in the main room. There was other stuff drying in there so I think it is okay. I sent an email double-checking because I don't know what is all right and what isn't. And I want to know for the future just in case.

Once everything was cleaned up and lockdown I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes writing up my report. So that I don't forget anything for Friday when we have to submit all of our paperwork. And then I went home.

When I got back here I just wanted to chill. I would only be home for a little while before James came back here too. And after laying in bed with me for a little bit they want to go cut their hair. I was sad for them to lose their little mullet but it makes them happier to have a shaved head and honestly they did a very good job and they look really cute. They're getting better at styling to talk to. Their hair is getting a lot more healthy with all of the work we've put into it over the last year with products and supplements and things. Reminding James to not pull their hair so they're not ripping it out of their head all the time. I'm very proud of them. I love them very much.

James made us falafel salads for dinner. Which were excellent. And I worked on my embroidery bag a little bit more. I did a bunch of drawings on it so that I will have things to embroider over the next couple weeks. Honestly it probably won't last that long. But I want to fill up the whole top and make it look really heavy and interesting. I'll probably add beating on to it at some point too. I'm really enjoying this little project because it's very inconsequential and it's not like my jacket where it was very this is what we do everyday. This one is a little bit more like freeform.

Then that's kind of what I did for the rest of the night. I watched videos. I made egg salad for lunch tomorrow. I packed my lunch and put it in a bag in the fridge so that I won't forget it. I hung out with sweet pea. It's just been a good night.

I just got out of a very nice bubble bath. And I am in bed now feeling pretty tired. Tomorrow I have ground elements again at camp and I asked to switch so that I don't have to do the ones with ropes because my thumb still really hurts. It's not as bad as it was on Friday but it's still very uncomfortable. So let's hope that tomorrow is a very good day. And then I have excellent kids. And I hope that the weather is beautiful because I'm looking forward to being outside. I hope that you all have a great day and are taking care of yourself. I love you all. Good night.

[whumping-in-the-wings]

It dawned on me earlier this week that I did not do any portraits for the Perfect Sorrows characters the way I did for the Traces ones. Naturally, because I lack any semblance of self-control, I immediately started hunting around for a Picrew that felt like it fit the vibe of the story.

I failed completely at finding said Picrew. Therefore I have instead opted for Door Number Two: try to figure Artbreeder out, with varying degrees of success. I thought about giving each character their own post, then decided that that would get very annoying, so instead, I’m just going to throw them all onto this post, in no particular order and accompanied by a not insignificant amount of commentary, because I can never shut up when given an opportunity to talk about my story-children. I have never used Artbreeder before and I have no idea if any of these are actually, ya know, good. But they do vaguely approach the appearances of the people in my head, so I’m just going to roll with it. Enjoy.

Monsieur Camille Serreau

Camille’s is probably the portrait I’m least happy with, not just because it was my first one, but because I think I went a little overboard on what I was trying to do. In the book I based this story on, sorciers are able to live for centuries, covering up their true age with magic. Though of course that gets harder to do as time goes on, so I really wanted Camille to look like maybe those centuries are catching up to him. He still looks far younger than he actually is, but the truth is starting to seep through a little. I’m not sure how successful I was. He looks a bit…odd.

Mademoiselle Serreau

She’ll get a first name eventually, but either way, I’m much happier with her portrait. She looks pretty, but not unrealistic. You could actually meet this girl on the street somewhere…except for the minor fact that I somehow managed to erase most of her pores, and any skin detail at all, really. Oops. I also think her smile is maybe just a touch too mischievous for the demure, sort of subdued Mademoiselle. But still, there’s an element of real-human-ness to her that I like a lot.

Ondine

Ondine I am ridiculously pleased with (and not only because she has actual skin detail). The word I used to describe her in the first chapter was “elegant,” and I really think this portrait has a touch of that, but you can also see how her life is wearing on her a bit. She may not be questioning her lot in life the way Sacha is, but it’s still a very difficult life, and this portrait kind of shows how she’s been slowly worn down by it. (Artbreeder also insisted on giving her a slight touch of eyeshadow on her left eye that I could not edit out for the life of me, which is annoying, but not a travesty).

Hugo

Hugo’s portrait is probably the closest to the way I see him in my head. It’s the expression that makes it. This man looks like his presence would make you uncomfortable. He looks like he is constantly judging every move you make but will never actually tell you what he thinks about you. He also just looks…butlerish. I cannot explain that further. (As a fun little aside, now that I know what Hugo’s animal is, I do see touches of that in this portrait too, so that’s fun).

Sacha

Sacha is maybe not as real-human-ish as some of the others, but I’m okay with that. I like my blorbos to look pretty while I torment them. So I mainly just fiddled with things until I liked what I saw and then very amateurishly edited the scar on. I did want to give him a thin sort of face though, since he presented himself in my head as very tall and thin with angular features. As my sister would put it, he gangles. Which is exactly the opposite of my usual type, but he refused to un-yardstick himself, so that just became his character, and I tried to give the portrait that same kind of leanness.

Laurent

Laurent was definitely the hardest of the bunch, simply because I had no mental image of what he looked like, other than a horrible little man who is ugly as sin. It turns out that “ugly” is not all that much to go on, and my first attempt turned out looking like a demented werewolf. So I gave it another go and ended up with this. Maybe not as viscerally unpleasant as I was hoping, but this website does not seem built for making ugly people. And he still looks like someone you absolutely would not want to meet in a dark alley, so I’m calling it good.

And there you have it! As close an approximation of these characters as my limited Artbreeder skills can get. I’ll probably do a Part Two at some point, since we still have more characters to meet.

[whenyourunlabeledbutlabeled]

Self insert

Don't read this it's just me being a hoe for shuichi

Or do idc that much

WE DO GOT SPOILERS THOUGH!!

M!ghost x Shuichi

It was the first trial that something seems slightly off, two extra stands. Something even more unnerving was the fact that there was a portrait on it, identity unknown.

Shuichi was lucky enough to be seated right next to the portrait, deciding to look at it a little more, he found there was a smug smile on it, along with it having a cracked and seeming painted on bleeding effect. A second and third one too, Rantaro Amami and two unknown people, One seemingly waving slightly, cracked and bleeding still, another with a line across their neck and a fan symbol, and Amami, with a X across his face.

The second incident occured when Shuichi found a note asking him to meet them in the library next to a bookshelf, a map attached to it.

"Don't make the same mistake I did."

He whipped his head around, that voice.. strange. He must be hearing things. Deciding to go to the bathroom to splash water on his face, he did so and when he looked up, there was another face behind him in the mirror.

"W-What the-?!" He turned around then back to the mirror.

"Oh finally! I've been waiting for you to notice me!"

"Who.. Who are you..?"

"I'm that portrait you saw. Cracked. Bleeding. My execution hurt.."

"Y-Your what-?!"

"Shut up dude shut up! People are gonna think your crazy!"

He chose to look at them some more.

Bright neon red hair, wild eyes and black mascara, Wearing jeans and a hoodie.

"Are you done-?"

"Ah yes, sorry."

"Nah your fine emo boy." He snickered.

"Your so much like Kokichi.."

" Oh him? I tried to get him to look in the mirror, did not work.."

"Why did you tell me not to go?"

"Obviously I'm not gonna let my connection to the living die!"

"Wha.. Wait hold on! Your dead-?!"

"Bingo! Well probably. Also I follow you around, so good luck trying to get that Angie girl to be your freind."

Third incident.

"Oh dear! Atua senses a disturbing force! I must calm him! Bye-onara!"

*Huh.. that.. mirror thing was right.. Apparently Angie hates me now.. Great..*

°I am not a thing asshat! I am Aoi Kagehara!°

*So that's your name.. Let's go before people get suspicious..*

The fourth incident was when a "reward" was being loaded out.

"Alrighty kids, let's see what happened on September 9th 2022 at another killing game!" Monokuma stated, before turning a video on.

The video shows a boy about to be executed or something similar, kicking his legs while sitting on a table, before looking up and smiling before being crushed, or something it seems.

It cuts to a video recording.

"Hiya! Its me again, Aoi Kagehara! Ultimate Theorist and Strategist! You can't get rid of me! I just got crushed after all! Now I'll let you in on a secret, I'm even better in person behind the scenes, I control everything aside from somebodys actions. I am The Ultimate Mastermind. Aoi Kagehara."

It cuts again to another recording.

"Oh my god, Aishi-san, you'll be okay! Just stick with the plan! You not the Ultimate Serial Killer for nothing!"

"This is extremely risky. I would prefer it if-"

A knife is drawn, the sharp sound ringing through thw air.

"Who has your family Ayano. Who controls everything? Me."

"Kagehara-kun, you wouldn't."

"I would, just stick to exactly what I said to do."

"Well give me another run-over so I can do it exactly."

"You'll dress up as Momikano-kun and go into the gym, from there you'll take that big weight thing like 50 pounds, and drop it before running away with it to the rooftop. You'll then hide it behind the air vents and run. Make sure to blame it on him. You'll then put the note in Ponzu Komeda's locker, telling him to meet you in the Plaza. You'll drop the weight on him and crush him. Make up an alibi or something."

"..As you wish."

It then cuts to the execution again, this time showing him reaching up to the sky before getting disnembered and crushed.

It ends with a close up to his face, That iconic smug smile before he opens his eyes and his face briefly goes white, his eyes widen and tear up before he almost immediately dies.

To be continued because I am tired asf and I'm bored also asf