#last summer was the summer of eye paintings and I'd love to do some more this year I think

[pityroadart]

"Forgive me. Emotional transferrance is an effect of the mind meld."

A commission for a friend: Kirk, post-mind-meld with Spock Prime, in the cave on Delta Vega

watercolour on paper, mostly a limited palette of Schmincke phthalo turquoise + vermillion, 7 x 18cm // August 2022

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 3: "The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"

It's warm. Summer has well and truly started and the town is beginning to feel normal again now that the roads aren't cracked and nightmares are just that, nightmares.

The trailer has a fresh coat of paint as Steve leaves that afternoon, roof is fixed now thanks to the government. He and Wayne have been talking about making a deck to enjoy their quiet time on.

He had been reluctant when Wayne offered the space in the trailer, "I've spent over a decade on the cot I don't think a bed will fix my back now, besides, you're family, son." Steve won't admit it but his eyes barely held those tears in.

Max visits a lot, especially with Lucas at basketball camp and Hopper taking El and the Byers to the lake house he fixed up. Dustin visits too but Steve is over for dinner more often at Mrs Henderson's insistence.

Steve parks the car by the gate, swinging it open and making the slow walk up the hill. He sits down at the top, fiddling with the twine he wrapped around the wildflowers he picked this morning by the pond. The sky is glowing a soft orange.

"The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"

"Not as lovely as you, sweetheart," Eddie says eyes shining, he always couldn't help a cheesy line if it made Steve smile.

They sat on this hill a lot last summer, even more after Starcourt and Eddie knew Steve needed moments away from the memory of it all. He was always good at knowing what Steve needed, even when Steve couldn't explain the monsters that haunted him were real.

"Dustin says the party has big plans for Hellfire in September, I caught will drawing some kind of dragon last week."

Eddie laughs, "Those kids are gonna ruin my reputation as the best DM the world has ever seen."

"Nah, they don't do the voices like you do." Eddie always knew how to get Steve to fall asleep.

"Should've recorded stories for you."

"I don't think I'd have been able to listen to them now."

"I wish we got more time."

"I would've taken your place."

"I wouldn't have let you."

"I know."

The sun is almost gone, it's still warm, the crickets have started singing.

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Always, Stevie."

Steve leans over, his lips brushing the stone, laying down the flowers.

The sun is gone now.

A light breeze blows, cold.

"Yeah, love you too, Eds.

[berryfeilds]

thinking abt a cmbyn au with sirius being forced by his parents into visiting a wealthy family residing in the north of italy with whom they're in contact. he'd gotten in special trouble that year and he was sent to the countryside as retribution for embarrassing the noble family name.

but instead of despising the humid air, the ineluctable work, and groaning small talk, he finds himself enamored with the estate's only daughter, you.

you with your glowing face and flower lips, your luscious legs glistening from the pond water, and your figure clad in that dangerous swimsuit -fuck this was bad.

first rule of staying with your despised family friend is not to get involved with said family friend; and there he was, longingly gazing at you sitting in the garden's bench as your ruffled dress flowed with the sultry summer wind. you were currently filling in some extra work for your parents while listening to whatever was currently playing on the radio. your hair shines in the wind while making quick work of the pages that beguile your attention. you're perfect; quiet but feisty, you keep up with his perpetual banter and have a way with words that renders him speechless -oh, and your voice- like the creamy gelato from that shop you both biked to when you both wanted to cool off the summer heat after showing him around the quaint town.

you were perfect but also off fucking limits.

how was it that he was stuck in the same house with radiant you and he couldn't even talk to you! and it's not like it was his damn choice either. on his first day, after the niceties and small talk, your father asked -well rather commanded- that he was not to disturb you; restricted in bold, red letters, but more posh, if you will.

"listen, Sirius, you're welcome here anytime," the overbearing tone of your father's voice and the grimace on his face upon his arrival said otherwise.

"but I need to talk to you about a pressing matter at hand," he turned around to face Sirius squarely, "i've heard about your rather dallying engagements at school, and i want to make sure that no one messes up the quiet environment that my family has worked very hard to build," he finishes with a sigh.

sirius quirks his brows up questioningly.

"i have a feeling you're not finished,"

your father clears his throat before continuing.

"that quiet environment includes my daughter, sirius. and i'd like it if you were not to meddle with her or disrupt her academics or life with your rough ways,"

sirius scoffs humorlessly, well the insults didn't take long.

"I apologize for being so blunt but it's all to protect her, i hope you take my cautions to mind." He ends with a nod.

before sirius can add his aggravated input, your mother comes barreling in with beaming smiles and open arms. "sirius, mon amour!"

after catching up with your mother as she painfully asks personal questions about his life and how his schooling is, he finally escapes her claws and spends the rest of the day getting accustomed to the mansion and ever-lasting gardens.

the walls are littered with grand paintings that probably date back centuries and bookshelves overflowing with old pages and maps that look well-loved and have been read about a thousand times.

at least i'll have something to do here. sirius thinks as he rounds out the room that he assumes was a library, before he bumps into something -or rather someone.

"oh, mi dispiace papa-" your sentence cuts off when your eyes pan up from the flying papers that slipped out your hand to see that the man you bumped into was certainly not your father.

"nessun problema amore," sirius steadies you with his arms grasping gently at your waist.

you survey the boy as you pull away from his large and warm hands. it's then that it hits you like a ton of bricks that one: this is sirius black, the guest your family was housing for the summer, and two: you've already made a fool of yourself.

"oh i apologize, i'm not used to watching where i go," you react.

you quickly bend down to the papers that were released upon impact. sirius quickly follows in your footsteps and helps you in your trek of the blown pages.

"don't worry, i usually have that effect on people," he smirks at you.

a slight huff escapes your pretty mouth as you reach for a paper between the two of you; your fingers touch and it almost feels electrifying.

a quick apology falls off your lips, but sirius ignores it as he grabs the paper. you both stand and face your perched frames. he hands you the stray paper as he stares at you, an easy smile playing at his lips.

"i believe this is the last of your fallen," he sits with a coy and cool aura.

"thank you," you reply softly, avoiding his piercing eyes. you fiddle for half a second before realizing that you were standing there like an idiot.

"how rude of me- i haven't introduced myself, " you offer your name and finally gaze into his blue eyes.

"flying papers tend to charm the masses," he chuckles.

his hands are in his pockets as he stands cooly. he looks at you with his tall build. you know he's not trying to intimidate you -but god does he have to be so tall?

"i hope your settled in alright," you offer an awkward nod of your head.

"oh yes, don't worry, your mother took precise care of me alright," he shrugs of jokingly.

"sirius by the way, it's lovely meeting you,"

you breathe in before raising your hand out for a shake. sirius stares at you with raises his eyebrows amusingly before taking your hand delicately; he swells your pretty hand to his face and plants a soft kiss on your knuckles.

the action has you burning and tingly, starry-eyed as he flows your hand back down.

"it's lovely to meet you too,"

you swiftly compose yourself before speaking again, hoping to break out from the awkward introductions.

"well, if you need anything i'm sure i'll be near by, don't hesitate to ask," you end with a tentative quirk of your lips.

you cross over to the library sirius just walked out from, swiftly avoiding him; possibly for the entire trip.

sirius turns to look at your leaving form -well running is more like it- before pursing his lips; he chuckles lightly and shakes his head before following you. he enters the room he's inspected once before and lays his eyes on you. the sunlight hits your figure perfectly as you work your way around one of the many desks in the library.

"not very chatty aren't you?"

you turn your head in surprise; you didn't think he was going to follow you, let alone keep the -rather uncomfortable- small talk going. I mean you hadn't given him much to work with, hoping you could be left to your own devices but you guessed the english aren't very fond of discerning body language.

you don't quite know how to answer him. should you joke? deflect? ignore? perhaps you could make a friend? it'll give you an opportunity to maybe get to know each other; be so close you can escape your parents' dictatorial attitudes. it wouldn't hurt to loosen up and say fuck all to everything. from what you've heard, sirius gets into all sorts of meetings with rascality and has made quite a name for himself in hogwarts.

"not used to having many guests, that's all,"

you settle on not upsetting your parents. you already have too much to worry about.

plus the truth doesn't hurt. short and sweet. maybe he'll leave you alone soon if you keep your answers brief. last thing you want now is for some random guy whose in trouble with his parents, to come in and mess up your quiet life; your bubble.

"do you have friends?"

"yes,"

"do they come over often?"

"we don't have many guests," you end matter-factly.

merlin, have conversations been this hard? why is it so difficult to talk to you? i mean you're not exactly giving him anything to work with but usually, he's not this...nervous.

he nods as he walks around the room he's already inspected once before. he picks up a stray tennis ball and throws it up and down distracting himself from the tension you've built. he clicks his lips as he stands in front of a world map sat on the wall.

"so what do you do all day? i can't imagine sitting and filling in work for your father is a particularly exhilarating activity,"

"im sure arranging futile stunts and ogling at girls is a better way to waste the day, huh?”

you keep your eyes on the desk below, effectively avoiding the wince on sirius face. of course you would know why his parents all but threw him out on the street like an unwanted dog to stay with you.

"ah so you know of my endeavors,"

"very little,"

"i could tell you all about them, me and my friends get into quite the mischief," he's desperately trying to make a good impression but it all seems to fail -you won't even look up at him! god, forbid you give him a full sentence!

"sounds exciting,"

avoiding you won’t be a problem at all seeing as you can barely stand him talking to you. but the problem is: he’s bored. Incredibly so. and he has nothing to do here at all, except help your father with his work. maybe he should brush up on his italian; if he’s going to the town and meet the people living. perhaps they would be happy with his company. or he could find someone to help him run away from this impromptu and not desired vacation. he'll have to pen james and get him to help.

you pause your fuss with the endless pages and inhale for a second. you weigh your current odds and think about the situation at hand. you don't have many friends, considering the fact that your father picks and chooses who you hang out with; all snobs and money-hungry freaks who care for nothing of the world. you only ever talk to them for absolutely necessary occasions -and even then you tend to avoid them. maybe this would be good, a fresh start and a new soul who is nothing like your parents, seeing as he defies every rule his own guardians bestow on him.

maybe it's time to pop the bubble.

you turn around and clutch your hands to your front before remarking quietly to his previous question.

"there's a secluded river i like to go to when it gets a little too hot. i usually spend the rest of my days there, reading, writing, whatever comes to mind,"

he turns his head to look at you in slight surprise, he hadn't expected you to -well, talk to him- but this is a step!

"i also like visiting downtown on occasion, there's a family-owned store that sells homemade gelato. it's exceptionally better than what i recon they have in england," you try to joke; hopefully you aren't overdoing it.

"oh, believe me you would fall dead if you saw what they serve there," he jokingly gags.

you softly chuckle at his antics and rest your bottom on the desk.

"if you have errands to run you're welcome to join me; im going downtown for a little bit to grab a few things for father,"

sirius' mouth is agape as he stares at you. maybe being an idiot pays off. he quickly regains himself. not now! do not fuck this up!

"you know what, i think i will -only if you show me this lovely gelato shop." he bites away at a forming grin as he eyes you.

"we have a deal then." you throw him a small smile of your own.

"we have a deal."

maybe summer in nowhere italy wouldn't be so bad.

© berryfeilds 2024

[expirisims]

A Charmed Life

I'm switching households for the season, so I finally took the opportunity to move the Baldwins from the tiny "lucky" apartment! Looks like the local press is here to see them off to greener pastures!

Summer also means time to send kiddos from split households to their non-custodial parents for the season, so they don't lose touch. I dropped into the different households before moving onto our next household to make sure they had all the cribs etc. they needed. Reggie's place is a mess as per usual.

Here we are! It's time to play the Gillis household and catch up with Andrae, Precious and their children! They have done quite well for themselves as you can see.

Daniella aged into a child and practicing that side eye! She must have taken some lessons from Harold, LOL! She looks so much like Andrae!

Precious was off to work! I just love watching my sims in their cars, through their windows, etc. ...I promise I'm not a creeper!

Look at that! I know a lot of people don't like to miss things when they're in other households while playing rotationally, but I kind of love it! It makes it feel so much more real to me that my sims will develop hobbies and skills on their own. It always gives me something fun to read in my notifications.

Andrae has spent his whole day off in his pjs...I won't judge, LOL!

Umm...Daniella sank into the ground to do her homework and then turned completely invisible. Looks like it's time for a reset!

Andrae's ready for some baby cuddles with Feisal and Daniella is ready for some computer games.

All's quiet in the house. Shana and Feisal are both asleep, Andrae is catching up on the news and Daniella is finishing up her gaming session. Maybe she's heading to bed too.

Or to paint autonomously! Like I said, they all have their own hobbies and skills!

Good job Shayne! Now if you can just keep it that way!

I kept hearing voices outside and went to investigate. There was a protest about squids(!?) at the park right next door!

Precious took over toddler duties when she got home.

Andrae got in one last snack and finished a round of dishes.

And what would a round in Redwood Harbor be without ANOTHER alien abduction!

That's right Shana, I'd hide too!

[enam3l]

love, lola / chapter eight / it's happening again (4.6k)

Eddie has some news and amidst all the drama, you're starting to get a sense of deja vu...

a/n: happy ending eventually, slow burn, will they won't they, a lil angsty but never mean eddie!

this is a two parter! once you've read this, go here!

series masterlist / follow #enam3l love lola for instant updates / my other work / now available to read on AO3!

comment for tag list. requests open for prequel stories.

Anything being said is drowned out by the ringing in your ears. Piercing and shrill, as if an internal alarm was triggered by the words that left Eddie's mouth. 

'I'd have to leave for California next week.'

Simultaneously your prayers had been answered and your worst nightmare had come true. Eddie was being granted a shot at his dream to become a professional musician; a chance to get the hell out of Hawkins. Yet, the cost of it was leaving you behind. A successful rockstar life beyond the containment of this small town offered more than you ever could. 

Eddie paces anxiously in front of your bed where you have sat unmoving for the last five minutes. With each lap of the room a new thought intrudes. He hasn't slept since Taylor asked him to join Kraven last night. 

Does she hate me? Does she think I betrayed her? Is she actually relieved I'll be gone? Is she happy she doesn't have to follow through on letting me go back to New York? 

His fingers brush over anything in his reach. Over the objects he's seen nearly everyday of his life. Fragments of everything he's ever know, that now feel like they're slipping away. A jewellery stand that is weighed down by handmade beaded necklaces from your childhood and priceless heirlooms; all equally precious. A silver frame filled with an array photostrips of you with himself, some with Steve, one with you as a baby with Gran. A collection of figurines Eddie had hand painted custom for your birthday one year. One a powerful elven queen radiating a bright light, tailored to your likeness. The other a dark knight resembling Eddie, in service of the queen as he is to you in life. 

'You have to go, Teddy,' you finally muster a croak. Eddie freezes in his spot and your eyes meet. Both red from resisting the tears that beg to erupt. 

'Are you su-'

You refuse to even let him ask the question, shaking your head profusely. Reaching a hand out to him to come closer, he climbs onto your bed. In the centre you both sit cross legged facing the other, like two kids again sharing secrets. 

'You have to,' you repeat. 

He inhaled and takes your hands in his, they feel so small and cold. Like he had when you were little in the winter, he rubs his thumbs over your fingers and knuckles to warm them. Focusing on the touching of your skin so he doesn't have to see your reaction, Eddie admits his biggest concern. 

'But California doesn't have you...'

No it doesn't. At this moment in your life it feels like you aren't anywhere. Floating around lost without a tether, not to New York, not to Hawkins, not to Eddie. 

'But it has your future.'

The words were like a punch to gut for the both of you. An admittance that your futures don't evolve around the other. Especially not in the ways either of you want but won't admit. 

'This is a once in a life time offer, Ted,' you sigh, you've got to be the grown up. 'The chance to be a rockstar? It's something you've been dreaming of since you were a kid sat in this very room.' 

Sniffles can be heard from behind the wall of curls before you. 

'What if it doesn't work out?' he admits, letting his self-doubt show. 

Shuffling closer, you brush away his wild curls to reveal the soft face you've always adored. Thumbs stroking over the smattering of summer freckles, smoothing the tired bags under his big brown eyes. It's a face the world deserves to know. 

'Then you were close and will still have done something spectacular. Regardless, I'll always be here. But you have to, for once, be selfish. Do this for yourself... what would your Mom say if you were here?'

The tears in Eddie's eyes now fall. Coaxed out by your love and faith in him, the strength of which only ever matched by his Mom. His hands sit on top of yours. 

'She'd...' he pauses to chuckle, 'oh man, she'd have threatened to shave the hair whilst I was sleeping. Would make me repeat what she'd tell me everyday, that I'm everything and anything I wanna be if I believe in myself like she does... did.'

As he recounts his Mom's words, it truly dawns on Eddie what the answer is. What he must do. Just like that, the cord that has tied you and Eddie together for over a decade is severed. You're setting him free. Tears trickle down your cheeks. Now, he mirrors your previous actions. Rough thumbs stroking over your cheeks that feel like velvet to the touch. He touches your features that he knows by heart more so than any song or movie. For a while you both sit there, hands bracing the other's face. Holding on before they flitter away into memory only. 

When Eddie finally leaves your bedroom it feels all too symbolic, as if he has left your life. Once you hear the front door shut, you hurl yourself into the bathroom and throw up but this time, morning sickness isn't your excuse. The sob the racks through you vibrates off every bone. As if your body is responding to this feeling of grief. It's the first you've ever felt true loneliness. A jolt hits your again but it's not a sob or a heave. It's another first. The baby kicks you. 

Exactly a week later, The Hideout was buzzing with people wanting to say goodbye to one of their own. Eddie Munson was getting the hell out of Hawkins. With the help of Carl the manager, you, Steve and Dustin planned a bon voyage party. The bar crammed full with the gang, Corroded Coffin, Wayne, Gran, Hopper, Joyce and friends from the Hideout amongst the usual regulars. Everyone's pride over their friend's news combined with the free flowing booze, managed to overshadow the lingering sadness at his impending departure. With some coercion, everyone was treated to an impromptu Corroded Coffin reunion. 

Up on the stage and under the lights, Eddie glowed. It was where he belonged, this was always his destiny. Despite the clear intoxication, seeing the four up there you saw how they were still the silly boys you'd grown up with. Still all goofy grins and dimpled cheeks. After a couple of Corroded Coffin classics, Eddie's fingers strummed the beginnings of a song that halted the breath of a few in the crowd. Before you all, they performed Master Of Puppets. Playing from start to finish, uninterrupted, unharmed. Behind the raucous cheers were dewy eyes from those that knew. Knew this was so nearly Eddie's final song. But he had survived and stood in all his glory, stronger than ever. A fighter. A hero. He played like he had something to prove to the universe - that he was a survivor. 

After the cheers subsided, Eddie took the mic from Jeff, taking centre stage instead. 

'What can I say? You've been a wonderful audience. We're going to do one final song. It's for a very special lady. Y/N, sweetheart, I wouldn't be here without you. Kept me sane since were eight, when I first heard this song.'

Everyone turns, looking at you expectantly. Those that knew you wondering where he was going with this. Those that didn't wondering what exactly was your relationship. Hell if I know, you think. With that, his fingers kick started the song and he begins to croon with a wicked grin. 

'I met her in a club down in old Soho

Where you drink champagne and it tastes just like coca cola

C-O-L-A, Cola

She walked up to me and she asked me to dance

I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said Lola

L-O-L-A, Lola

La-la-la-la Lola'

As soon as the first words slide off his tongue your grin matches his. Dizzy with sentiment. Out the corner of your eye, you see Gran smirking to herself. Everyone else is clueless but eventually learn to go with it, dancing and understand there's a tale they're not privy to. 

When a small and afraid Eddie had shown up in your house twelve years ago, you were stuck on what to do. Gran sent you off to make him feel comfortable as she and Eva spoke. The curly headed boy was so timid, a far cry away from the one before you now rolling his hips with his guitar. To break the crippling silence that lingers between two strangers, you brought him to your living room where the record machine lived. Fumbling through to stacks of your Gran's aged records you picked one carefully. 

'I... I think this will make you laugh. It makes me laugh when I'm sad,' you admitted nervously, unsure why you felt so determined to make this strange boy smile. The needle drops at the song Eddie is playing for you now, begins to echo out the speakers. Lola by The Kinks. 

Shyly you sit back on the plush rug beside the rigid boy. It's not long before the sadness begins to crack. Eddie's fingers tapping. Then, it's clear he finally listens to the lyrics and his head whips around to you. It's the first time you truly get a look at him. Oh he's so pretty, the little voice in your head gasped. His eyes are wide in shock, white rimming giant chocolate buttons. 

'Why she walked like a woman but talked like a man.'

The meaning dawns on him and he laughs. The best sound you've ever heard. An expression that causes dimples to pop and his eyes to shine. It's that moment you decide to need to make this boy, this Eddie, smile and laugh for as long as you know him. By the time your Gran and Eva come and find you, you're both sprawled out on the rug. Barely any distance between you and the song still on repeat. 

Now Eddie is singing it for you. It's sinful the way his tongue flicks on the 'la-la's. His voice gritty during the rest of the song. It should be enough to tip you over the edge, drive you insane but it's too good not to indulge in. You spin around, laughing, joining in with the rest of your friends. Robin dipping you and Steve twirling you round. In Eddie's over watching eyes, the celebrations of others are nothing but white noise and a blur. To him it's only you stood in the centre of the crowd, red lights illuminating your hair  billowing as you sway. You're in slow motion and everything else is an irrelevant blur. Even under the boozy fog, he channels everything he has into this serenade. It's all for you, every feeling runs through his veins, out his finger tips and pours out through the amps. It's for you, he chants internally, it's always all for you. 

Once Eddie exits the stage, he's winded as you hurl yourself at him, arms wrapping tightly round his neck. He's quick to respond, his own arms round your waste to swing you round and round. The song, it was too much, forcing you to break your self imposed boundaries. The two of you remain the same most of the night, joined at the hip. Eddie's inhibitions growing looser with every shot and beer that passes his lips; raw from biting them to stop himself from impulsively kissing yours. Easily, you both clear out the dance floor. Between reckless spinning and Eddie dipping you dramatically, the space had began to thin out. People retiring to booths or back home as the night wore on. It felt like you and him were the only two people in the world again. 

Suddenly, the energy shifts between the two of you when the track changes. The soft tones of Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths begin to hum through the room. Eddie freezes in his movements for a moment, you look up at him confused and expectant; waiting for his next move. Then, with more tenderness than any of his previous moves, he sweeps you into a slow dance. Two of your hands clutched together whilst he brings your other to his shoulder and then settles his own on your waist. Despite his intoxicated state, he glides surprisingly effortlessly and you can't help but take him in. His face surprisingly somber, blue lights soft on his features as he looks down at you. A mixture of melancholy and sweetness thick in the air. For an unknown reason, the moment feels so familiar as if deja vu but this has never happened before. You don't remember ever dancing with Eddie like this and god knows the boy won't ever let you play The Smiths. But you manage to push the eery feeling down, resting your head on his shoulder to let the moment embrace you and forget that tomorrow he'll be gone. 

From the corner of the room, the adults congregate. There, Gran watches adoringly. Her eyes threatening tears at the sight. The two kids she's raised still together and oblivious to what was always obvious to Eddie's mom - they were soulmates. Hopper follows her gaze to the embracing young adults. 

'Think they'd make a nice couple one day, y'know,' he remarks offhandedly from behind his bottle of beer. A hidden smile as he thinks of himself and Joyce at that age. Maybe they'll find their way back to each other one day, he muses to himself. Gran clears her throat, straightening herself up and withdrawing from the wistful place she'd found herself in. 

'Maybe... I think there might be something to that,' she smiles sadly. 

Before long the bar is near deserted. The remaining members are the survivors, the ones who know too much, who've been through too much for such an age. Round a booth, you, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Argyle, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Mike, El and Max gather. All of you with a shot, in the case of the kids it's a shot of cordial. Unknowing to everyone but Steve, you join them in the cordial. 

Steve chimes his class to raise a toast. 

'I think, I speak for everyone here when I say we're proud of you, Eddie. You did it, most people would've never left the house again, man. But you're getting the hell outta this hell hole. Let's make this the start of the end, of us all moving on. The Upside Down is gone forever and now we can finally live normal lives. Here's to Eddie and to all of us, for surviving!'

Everyone cheers in agreement and downs their shot. You quicker than the rest before anyone, especially Eddie who hovers beside you, can notice its content. But he's too far gone to have ever spotted it, which he proves as he brashly clatters his rings against a class to get everyone's attention. 

'Hey! Hey, Stevie s'not the only one who can make speech!' He slurs. 

'Debatable,' Max smirks earning a prod from Steve and a snicker from Robin. 

'Tsch be nice to your father, Red. He s'on his own now,' Eddie scolds. 

The group chuckles and Steve shakes his head, face buried into his palms. 

'How much have you drank, Eddie?' Dustin gawps and his swaying idol. 

'Shhh secret, Dustybuns! S'okay, sweetheart lookin after me,' he grins goofily as he wraps an arm around your shoulder affectionately but also to keep himself upright. 

'Anyway! Stop int... interruptin me. You lil dinguses gotta take in my wisdom whilst 'm still here! So I just wanna say... love you guys. Even when I'm up there accepting my awards, I'll still remember you. 'Specially sweetheart here. Keepin' me alive, huh? What am I gonna do without ya?'

The group look between each other, baffled as they watch Eddie paw at your face like a cat. Steve scowls, anxious as to what this is doing for you.

'Aaand on that note, let's call it a night,' Nancy claps, ready to rally the troops. 

'Steve, we going half and half on the kids?' 

Steve nods half heartedly, eyes still watching you and Eddie carefully. 

'Okay, now Y/N, what about you? And Eddie? Need a lift?' She asks as she divvies up the kids between them. 

'Noooo, she s'comin home with me,' Eddie whines before pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. 

Nancy and Robin raise an eyebrow. 

'Are you sure?' Robin presses you. You laugh it off. 

'Yes, honestly guys it's fine. We live in the same place anyway and I've not really drank anything. I can drive. It'll just take everyone out of their way!'

The answer satisfies the girls and everyone begins their goodbyes. Before they all file out the door, Steve pulls you aside. That hand of support clutching yours once again. 

'You'll be okay?' He whispers, 'be careful. If anything is wrong, just call me okay? Don't just lie their being sad-'

Steve is cut off as Eddie drags you out of his touch. Flapping his hand in Steve's face to shoo him. 

'Get off my lady, Harrington!' Eddie garbles, making you blush and your stomach swirl. Drunk Eddie is not good for your already aching heart. Steve sighs, giving up and waving goodbye. It's just you and Eddie now. 

Instantly, Eddie is draping himself over you. His eyes focused on a strand your hair he twirls round his fingers. 

'Finally!! Thought they'd never leave us alone, sweets.'

'Think it's time we got you home, huh, Teddy?' You chuckle, cheeks red at the implication. 

'S'cute when you call me that...'

You just smile and nod, trying to drag him to the car. Buckling him in as if he were a child, unable to himself as he continues to fidget with any part of you he can get touch. 

The journey home was surprisingly quiet. Eddie's head resting against the window, watching the dark blur of what will now become his former hometown. It's only the sound of your voice that stirs him once you pull up outside the pool house. 

'Okay, here we are, Eds! Home sweet home,' you pat his knee. He looks between out the window then back at you with a big scowl on his face. 

'S'not home.'

Your heart sinks. You suppose it's not home anymore, California will be. Or maybe he means the trailer? 

'Urm, well where else are you going to sleep then, hey?' You try to mask your sadness. 

Eddie groans. Inside he's frustrated by your cluelessness and his inability to spit out his true feelings. Why is she being so silly, he thinks, this is not his home, you are his home. 

'Your room! Sleepover,' he bats his long lashes at you and paws at you pleadingly. It makes your insides jelly. It's our final night together, you sigh internally, what harm could it do?

The second your bedroom door is open, Eddie is stumbling through and flopping back onto the bed. Tight tee riding up revealing his belly button, tattooed hip and a trail of hair that is so cruelly tempting. You idiot, you scold yourself. Leaving Eddie to lie there you go and change into the pyjamas then sit at your vanity to remove your make up. You're oblivious to how Eddie has sat bolt upright to watch you, entirely enchanted at the sight of your mid-routine. 

'You looked real pretty tonight,' he whispers but it's loud enough for you to catch. Your cheeks redden, helpfully disguised by the swipes of cotton wool.  

'You look pretty too, Teddy,' you chuckle. He blinks, baffled. 

'Really?' He almost gasps. 

'Of course,' you laugh, ruffling his curls as you get up and walk past. He leans into the touch and huffs quietly when it ends all too soon. You come back and stand before him at the edge of the bed, 

'You always look pretty.'

Eddie wants to swoon but stops when he notices what you're wearing. You're stood before him in a t-shirt he always wondered if you still had. One he sent you home him on that night. He can't help himself as he reaches out, fingers skimming over them hem and accidentally making contact with the exposed thigh. Goosebumps instantly prickle up his arm and across your thighs but neither of you notice the others reaction. 

'You always look pretty too, Y/N. 'Specially in that shirt...' his voice is the quietest it's been all night. 

'O-oh yeah, I'm sorry. You can have it back! It's just really comfortable! I've no idea where it came from bu-'

Eddie cuts your rambling off by tugging you forward, causing you to fall on top of him. Faces hovering over each other, your hair acting as a curtain, hiding the rest of the world. Both of your breathing slows. The drunken hormones raging through Eddie are screaming. Before he can stop himself, his fingers are reaching out. Calloused tip gliding down the slope of your nose, over your cupids bow, hesitating over your lips. Both of you stare at each other wide eyed, unsure as to where this is going. Quickly, Eddie catches himself. He retracts his fingers from your plush lips and brings them back to boop the tip of your nose. The absurdity breaking the tension. 

'Honk!' He grins.

You can't tell if you're disappointed or relieved.

'S'not a problem sweetheart, won't make ya take it off. 'Nless you wanna,' he teases, brows wiggling. 

You give him a shove as you pull yourself back onto your feet and out of the compromising position. 

'Edward Munson, you are wasted.'

He looks back up at you with hazy puppy dog eyes. 

'I know. Can't move. You'll have t'undress me for bedtime,' he sighs with a smirk. Raising his arms up as a hint for you to get started. You gulp. Countless time you've seen him shirtless but you've never literally undressed him. Plus, you know him too well and know you just have to go with it when he's in these kind of moods. Trying desperately not to turn beet red, you attempt the task at hand. Tugging the hem of his shirt up carefully, gradually revealing his soft stomach, then chest, then shoulders. Perfect porcelain, dotted with ink and shiny healed scars and then of course, that god forsaken trail of hair. Your eyes linger far too long, trying to memorise this moment before it disappears. 

'Trousers too,' Eddie chirps. Reclining back and thrusting his hips up. It's like the universe is trying to torture you. 

'Eddie...' you murmur, mortified, 'you can do them yourself.'

'Can't, sweets,' he shakes his head defiantly, 'hands not working, see!'

He dramatically attempts and fails to use his hands to undo his belt; flopping them around as if they were jello. 

'Sure you're meant to be a rockstar? I think you'd make a better clown...'

He prods you with his socked toes then but his smile is beaming. Sighing you begin to unbuckle his belt. Eddie's eyes are wide, throat tight and brain malfunctioning as he watches something he'd only fantasised about. Why did I talk her into this, he yells at himself, this is dangerous. He watches as your fingers nimbly undo his button, then the zip, then you take the top of them and begin to slide the denim away. Your soft touch brushing against his hip bones, then his thighs, exposing his boxers, exposing himself. Thank fuck they don't have holes in, he thanks his earlier sober self.

Your heart is in your throat seeing Eddie there reclined on your bed in nothing but underwear. You've seen him like this before but usually in glimpses as he walks between the bathroom and bedroom. Now he's entirely on display and it's torturous. You're barely allowed to look never mind touch. Praying he's too wasted to realise how your eyes flicker too the outline of his... 

'Okay!' You clap, 'it's bedtime for you, Mr! Big day tomorrow!'

Eddie groans like a petulant child, 'don't wanna!'

You scoff as you tug at the duvet for him to move so you can get under. 

'Don't wanna what? Go and live it up in California? Go and be a superstar?'

With his back turned to you as he swings to get off the bed, you can't see the empty look in his eyes. The sadness that sweeps the earlier joking off his face. 

'No, s'just... don't wanna leave you.'

You fix your gaze at the ceiling as you lie there, not daring to look him although he's doing the same. Looking anywhere but at you as he climbs into bed.

'Oh... well... Eds, you ha-'

Your forget what you were going to say as Eddie turns over and drapes himself over your lying frame. Arm slung over you and his face buried into your abdomen. You're frozen, praying that now isn't the moment the baby decides to move or somehow he hears it inside you. 

'I only just got you back,' he mumbles into the worn fabric of your shirt. 

Any potential of him hearing the baby, the baby was now drowned out by the hammering of your heart. You're unsure of what to say or do other than stroke his tangled curls soothingly. 

'You'll always have me,' you whisper back. It pains you how true the sentiment is, you would always be there. Waiting for him like the moon to his earth, functionless without him, permanently in his orbit. 

The warmth radiating from you envelopes Eddie. The softness of the skin on your arm that he strokes and of the warn t-shirt of his you wear. No one has brought him comfort like this since his Mom. Nothing can touch him when he's in your embrace. If being in your arms was all he ever did, it was a life well lived. But that can't happen, you aren't his. 

'S'not enough...' he croaks groggily. 

Having you always but just as a friend isn't enough, is what he means. But he's too scared to ever admit that fully and too heavy with booze and sleep to explain anyway. 

'What do you mean?' Your heart sinks. 

What's not enough? Am I not enough? I already know, it's why I have to let you leave. Yet you realise your questions will remain unanswered as soft snores begin to drift from Eddie's lips. Snuggled into you, he falls into rhythmic breathing, his hand having moved from your arm, now resting on your stomach. It's the closest you'll ever get to having him feel your bump, you realise. You stay there, eyes fluttering shut as you stroke his hair in time with his breathing. It feels natural, regardless of the heartbreak, you feel at peace with him like this. 

And maybe the baby feels that, feels how truly comfortable you are. Or, maybe, it's the sensation of being enveloped by Eddie; his warmth covering your bump. But as you drift asleep, the baby wiggles and kicks under his touch as if they too feel connected to Eddie. 

Sometime later, at an ungodly hour, Gran wakes up. Making her way across the landing to your room to make sure you were safe and home. A quiet gasp escapes her once she opens the door ajar. There you lie on your bed, Eddie curled round you, as if guarding the bump he's oblivious too. It looks picture perfect, like a scene that was meant to be. As if her best friend, Eva Munson, was still alive and standing beside her, Gran can hear her smug laugh. 

'I told you so,' Eva would be gloating, 'I said we'll really be family one day, Ruby.'

If only it had worked out so simple, Gran thinks with a woeful smile, maybe one day. 

What was that deja vu? Is there something you don't remember... read the new prequel to find out

tag list: @tlclick73 @probablyin-bed @fangirling-4-ever @booksarekindaneat @azydrateanatomy @sadbitchfangirl @fluffybunnyu @big-ope-vibes @beam86 @midnightsgetawaycar @stevieharringtonswife

[crowtrobotx]

I'm on a huge Kris x Karl kick rn please tell me more about these two losers I love them

Anon. Beautiful anon. I am so sorry this is late lmao. I wanted to actually give you something in response to this ask, not just muse for a few sentences. I hope you enjoy this ficlet (is it a ficlet if it's over 2k words??? whatever) involving the aforementioned losers, and I'm so very glad you love them as much as I do. :) ******************************************** Tunnel of Love Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x OC Setting: No Village AU, maybe set in Check Engine's universe if you've read my fic Genre: Mostly humorous fluff Warnings: Swearing if that ain't your thing, some heavy petting but nothing I'd classify as too intense. ;) Word count: 2243

“Next. Next, please.”

Kris could scarcely think of a worse summer job than manning a boat ride at the county fair, and she couldn’t blame the exasperation evident in the teenager’s voice as he tried to explain a laundry list of safety precautions to the already-too-handsy couple boarding their swan-shaped vessel. The line staggered ahead lazily as the enticing smell of funnel cake wafted from somewhere nearby. She wondered, if only for a moment, if she could convince Karl that eating more fried monstrosities was a better idea than getting in a completely non-seaworthy watercraft with peeling paint and God knew what staining the moist cushions, but given the way he was already bouncing on the balls of his feet to see how many more couples were ahead of them, she abandoned the hope all too quickly. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, or that she was afraid of water - quite the contrary, under normal circumstances she would have agreed to it with no reservations. If you ignored the questionable sanitation, a slow boat ride through a quiet, dark tunnel sounded almost divine. But these weren’t normal circumstances; she was exhausted. How long had they been here? Twelve hours? How many rides had Karl dragged her on against her will, how many cheap beers had she downed to quell the anxiety of getting into a giant metal death trap over and over again? The ride looked exceptionally dark against the backdrop of the neon carnival lights, the distant ferris wheel in particular drenching the night sky in a sort of kaleidoscope effect that sent Kris’s already uneasy stomach churning. The larger problem, though, as she saw it, was that they were the oldest pair in line. By at least two decades. They were the only middle aged couple in a sea of overly horny teenagers and they looked like lunatics - particularly because Karl also had the “overly horny” part covered. Kris had swatted his hand away from her backside more than once now, the cover of night blessedly shielding her burning cheeks and ears from prying eyes. The line moved again. She shuffled forward, arm in arm with Karl, trying to look as small as possible - a feat that was next to unthinkable given the gargantuan stuffed puppy tucked under her free arm. Yet another ingredient in the stew of her agitation, her boyfriend had made it his God given goal the second they’d arrived to win her the biggest prize possible. It was cute, at first - adorable, even. Karl had scrutinized each game at least twice, asked her opinion on each of the potential spoils and finally landed on the strength-tester after some intense negotiations. “But there’s bigger stuffed puppies at the basketball game over there - don’t you want one of those?” “Babe, they’re bigger than me - are you gonna carry it around? Besides, these ones have bow ties, and everything’s better with a bow tie.” It had been a partial truth. Mostly Kris didn’t want to see Karl get dunked on - literally - by someone half his age. The last thing she needed was him dedicating the following year to avenging himself and trying to become a sports phenomenon with knees that sounded like snapping crab legs every time he stood up. He’d made her laugh, at least, as he put on a show of exaggerated stretches and warm-ups before his attempt. Kris had expected him to fail, to be honest. Karl was strong but she knew most of these games were rigged. Still, she didn’t have the heart to kill his excitement and if he wanted to go for it, who was she to stop him? If he couldn’t do it, she’d happily settle for a more manageable sized prize - perhaps one of the tie dyed teddy bears - and she’d nearly looked away when he’d at last swung down the hammer against the block. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised when the bell rang out. Kris had gestured slack-jawed at the black and white puppy with the purple bow tie while Karl grinned like a smarmy tomcat. 

Her poor therapist was going to hear another earful of musings about why exactly she’d fallen in love with this greasy asshole - no one could explain it, least of all her. “I think we’re next,” Karl’s excited voice barely restrained to normal levels. “That kid up there chickened out at the last minute.” Probably because they realized these boats are one splinter away from sinking, Kris thought miserably. She turned her head over her shoulder and grimaced at the hordes of teenagers waiting behind them - bright eyed and fashionable and looking nothing like her, with her ever darkening under eye circles and Karl’s ill-fitting oil stained hoodie thrown over her shoulders.

“Oh boy,” she said, straining to match his energy. At last they stepped forward onto the dock, its wet surface shimmering under the cascade of surrounding colors. The ride operator, the only person who looked even remotely as tired as Kris, turned a dead-inside gaze toward them. If he had any thoughts about the weird older couple hopping on a ride notorious for awkward first kisses and wandering hands, he blessedly kept them to himself. “You’ll have to leave the stuffed animal here, ma’am. You can pick it up when the ride is done.” “Oh, yeah. Thanks,” Kris’s arm practically cried out in relief as she plopped Karl’s oversized gift down next to a collection of other toys and purses left behind for safekeeping. “How, uh, how long is this thing? Usually?” The kid sniffed. “I dunno. Five minutes, tops. That is, if no one falls overboard and we have to stop it for an hour.” “Great.” Karl nudged her, practically vibrating with excitement despite the banality of it all. He’d pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, apparently deciding that it would be too dark in the tunnel even for him with them on. His eyes were almost brighter than anything else around them, and Kris nearly felt like complimenting him until he opened his stupid, annoying mouth. “Bet you a corn dog I can get you off before we come out the other end.” The ride operator sighed. Kris wanted to drown herself.

“Please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times and in a place where we can all see them. And please no inappropriate displays…” he sounded like he wanted to get hit by a stray meteor at all costs. 

“Define inappropriate.” Kris had known Karl would say something once they got up here but she hadn’t been sure what. She rolled her eyes and elbowed him in his soft midsection, earning a snicker and a feigned offended exclamation. “I was just asking!” The operator stopped their boat with his foot just long enough for the pair to clamber in. Karl, ever ungraceful, managed to splash water onto the floor when he flopped down next to Kris with zero regard for the integrity of the vessel. He flung an arm around her shoulders and waggled his eyebrows suggestively as the boat lurched forward, setting off into the black light filled tunnel ahead at a lopsided angle. “You’re obnoxious, you know that?” Kris booped the end of his nose with her index finger and pretended to be more interested in the neon paint on the walls than him. “Yeah,” he said, proudly, before scooting a touch closer. “And you’re pretty.” Was he…. Oh no, was he being romantic? “Tell me something I don’t know.” Kris leaned back a bit, forcing Karl to lean in even further. The sounds of the carnival outside began to deaden the further in they traveled, until all that was left was the lapping of the water against the sides of the boat and the crackling sound of public domain piano music warbling out from hidden speakers. To her horror and private delight, Karl decided to put his mouth to use on something better than cheesy pick up lines and infodumping about motorcycles and cars for once. He brushed aside her dark curls from the shoulder closest to him and set to work leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on the exposed skin of her next while Kris subconsciously shifted, the ache in her feet from walking all day replaced by an ache of another sort, higher up her body. Jesus Christ. She was mad. Mad that she’d agreed to this, mad that she was letting him act like a hormonal sixteen year old on a shitty fair ride, mad that she was getting into it. She had been a respectable person, once. Then her lizard brain had taken over and she’d gotten the hots for her mechanic, and with every passing day she was turning into more of a clown. “Karl–” it came out breathier than she would have liked– “Karl, stop. We’re going to– oh – we’re going to get in trouble, you buffoon.” “Who’s gonna tell,” he murmured against her ear, before tracing her jaw with chaste kisses and bringing a hand up to turn her face to him. “You don’t think they have cameras on this thing?” “Sure they do,” Karl shrugged, “but you think anyone’s actually watching? These guys don’t get paid enough to give a shit.” He was probably right about that. Before Kris could come up with another excuse, Karl captured her lips in his own and settled his hands near her waist, filling her senses with him. She sighed and surrendered herself to the action, too tired and too stupidly in love to fight it. She threaded her fingers through his silvery hair and dragged him closer, pretending to ignore the victorious smirk she felt him pull while his scratchy beard undoubtedly reddened her skin. Jackass. Whatever hastily painted designs littered the walls of the tunnel, neither of them noticed. Kris decided that because the fair was closing in an hour anyway, it wouldn’t matter if they got kicked out - she’d already indulged so much today, what was one more thing? She slipped a hand underneath Karl’s collar and toyed gently with his chest hair, earning a deep growl in response. “Two can play at that,” he muttered before quickly sneaking up the back of her shirt and unhooking her bra with practiced ease - much better than the first time, when Kris had thought he was about to burst into tears trying to figure out how it worked. Some engineer. “Karl!” “What? I’m just following the rules. He said nothing inappropriate - inappropriate would be if I tore your clothes off and did what I’m actually thinking of doing right now. No one’s gonna know I just gave the girls some room to breathe…” “Fuck you.” “Please do, doll.”

Stupid,  stupid man with his stupid unkempt beard and his stupid uneven grey hair that he cut himself while drunk in the bathtub. She was angry at how much she liked him. Furious. Kris decided that when they were done sucking each other’s faces off, she was going to throw him overboard in the nasty ride water and make a comment about how he needed a shower anyway. She dragged him in again, with such force that the boat wobbled this time, and let him content himself with his wandering hands and probing tongue. She hated to admit she was enjoying herself. Maybe, maybe, if he behaved, she’d even admit that he’d been right about this whole thing. He’d never shut up about it, but maybe he deserved it… just this once.

The moment never came, though. All too soon the light at the dock beamed around the corner and he pulled away after one last kiss, punctuated by a nip on her lower lip. Kris gasped as if coming up for air, and to her horror she subconsciously leaned after him, trying to capture the moment before it slipped away into the night. She practically crawled into his lap, ignoring the self-satisfied look on his face. “That’s not fair– Karl, you can’t do that to me and just– get back here!” 

“Ma’am, please don’t make me call security on you.” Kris froze. When exactly they’d pulled up and stopped, she wasn’t sure. What she was sure of was the fact that there were now a bunch of judgemental teenagers looking at her, someone technically old enough to be their mother, on top of someone who looked like he’d been pulled out of a dumpster, and her hair was undoubtedly askew in such a way to make it obvious what they’d been doing. Karl exited the ride as if nothing was amiss and clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.

“Yeah, pumpkin. So sorry about her, can’t take her anywhere,” Karl gestured in Kris’s direction with a smug grin that made her want to punch his throat. “Let’s get you home to sleep off those beers. You’re kinda obsessed with PDA, you know that?”

Kris clambered out of the boat, quickly snatching the stuffed puppy and tucking it back in its rightful place under her arm, patently refusing Karl’s outstretched hand. The swan boat’s faded eyeball regarded her in a way that was somehow both lifeless and mocking, as if it had seen so many such instances over the years but never got used to them. Her cheeks flared as she stormed past into the yellow glow of the night ahead, ears roaring so loudly it almost drowned out her partner’s guttural laughter. 

“I’m going to skin you alive, Karl Heisenberg.”

[fluffyf0x]

Words that shouldn't be said

Chishiya Shuntaro x Dying! reader TW: Blood, Death Word Count: 991 words Do not repost without permission!!!

≪ °❈° ≫ Now Playing: Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift ≪ °❈° ≫

Words that shouldn't be said Never did I once imagine that I'd hear those words from him.

You could clearly remember the day you arrived to the beach. The wind was strong and cold. With the current lands that you lived in, it was hard to determine if it was winter, fall, spring or summer. The breeze passed through your lips, you shivered a bit from the cold. Only having a loose shirt and comfortable pants on. Heavy steps as you walked the empty asphalt road that bridged two sides of a river.

You felt numb after all that happened during the last game. You hugged yourself in attempt to warm yourself. But you knew that you were using it as an excuse to attempt to comfort yourself. The attempt was futile as you felt disgusted in yourself. It wasn't the first time you saw someone died. It wasn't the first time you had blood on your hands. Yet the feeling remained the same.

You walked towards the building that was previously a hotel. The signage was painted over with red spray paint saying "BEACH"

You chuckled to yourself as you continued walking towards it. Steps becoming heavier and heavier. Some random blond man said that he saw potential in you, and should join what he called "The beach". Saying that it might be a little crazy, but it seemed to fit you.

You didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or a insult.

But if you were to be honest, you were a little crazy. No one in the right mind would kill someone without hesitation. Nor point the gun at themselves despite not knowing if it was loaded or not. It was just by luck that it didn't have any bullets.

The next crazy thing you did, was fall in love with the certain blonde man that invited you to the beach.

The moment you stepped foot in the hotel, you were surrounded by people holding guns. You stared at them in surprise, holding your hands up. As if indicating you mean no harm and that you were unarmed. They brought you to what looked like a conference room. Where several people, called the executives, surrounded you. They all wore swim apparels. More fitting to wear in a beach rather than in a hotel.

You spotted the blonde haired man admist them. He gave you a small wave, his eyes filled with amusement. You only waved back.

"Ah so you're the one Chishiya was talking about. I wonder what he saw in you" A man, who was called Hatter, said. Peering at you curiously. You saw that his statement was not one to mock you, but genuine curiosity. You snorted. Crossing your arms. You glanced at the blonde, wondering why the assumed leader of this organization, was curious as to the blonde recommending someone.

"Dunno, ask him." You said, your voice soft, yet you seemed like you were challenging him.

Hatter laughed. Clapping his hands. As if figuring out the answer to his question. His laugher died out as you continued to stare at him.

"Welcome to the beach"

Chishiya Shuntaro

You thought the name was beautiful.

Fitting for the sociopath he his.

This was your biggest mistake. You fell in love with him. You risked your life for him.

It was all for nothing. His empty words of affection, fake laughter, smirks that hid plans upon plans. He tried hiding his true self. You saw through it, but you believed, you hoped, maybe he would have a change of heart soon. Maybe it wouldn't be too late for him to say that 8 letter statement genuinely.

Oh how wrong you were.

You sat there, bleeding out from the bullets that was shot through you. You groaned in pain, weakly holding on to your abdomen which was where you bled the most. You looked up into his eyes. His face tight and his eyes showed that his mind was whirling with different thoughts. But you couldn't read his expression.

Was it guilt? Sadness?

Or did he not feel any remorse?

You didn't know. So you smiled.

"Hah... You really threw me into the fire to save yourself" you said weakly, it was such a Chishiya thing to do of him. He only ever cared of himself. He wouldn't do anything that won't benefit him.

"I love you" you whispered, barely audible, but you knew he heard it. You loved him, he used you.

You let him use you, as long as you could stick by him. He was a walking red flag and yet you persisted, hopes high.

But then there it was...

A single tear drop coming from those hickory brown eyes.

Ah, it was too late to feel that way my beloved. I'm at my end.

He mumbled something, you couldn't hear it. He clenched his fist and suddenly you could see clearly his emotions. Yet a part of you really wanted to hear it straight from him. Rather than trying to read him, which will be fruitless.

"Shuntaro...please say it again" you croaked, prying the words out of his mouth once again. You hoped, maybe this time was different. Trying to sit up from your position, but pain spread through your entire body. You sighed. Eyelids were heavy and you were at the brink of your death.

"I love you" he whispered, you laughed softly. You knew it was genuine. Not like the empty words of that simple yet powerful statement that he used to say. It hurt you everytime he said that without any emotion. Yet you stuck with him.

And because of that, here you are. Lying on the ground because you saved him.

Your laughter ceased. You looked up with him with a pained expression

"Now isn't that the worst thing I've ever heard from you?"

But it seems I can rest easy now.

Written by Ren

[glowww0rms]

Cloistered Confessions pt. 1

I was young when the sisters took me in, too young to remember. My earliest memories are of picking the weeds that grew up and around the wrought iron fence of the convent. I'd scrub the brick path in the garden until it gleamed just as white as the marble altar, grime beneath my nails and knees bruised from the effort.

I don't imagine there was ever any question of whether I'd join the order once I was of age- what else was there for me out in the world? My life continued much as it had, and the habit I donned soon became as familiar as the walls of the convent around me.

The sisters treated me as family, and though my love for them was sincere, I still felt a certain detachment many days. I feared I wasn't like the rest, not as singularly devoted to the cloistered life. Not for a lack of faith, but for a distracted nature which became more apparent to me as the years passed. There were thoughts that drew my focus away from my prayers, thoughts that I never dared voice to any of the sisters.

It started innocently enough. We do not share rooms in the convent, each of us has a modest space to call our own (although some may call it more of a cell, for it doesn't have room for much more than a small bed) with a small crucifix mounted to the wall. As I knelt beside my bed one night, whispering those familiar prayers, my eyes drifted to the carving of the Christ. I'd seen very few men in my lifetime, even priests remained mysterious behind the partition between us during the mass, but he seemed so lifelike in that moment. The artist who carved the figure had captured such beautiful agony in the way his limbs tensed and contorted against the sharp pain of the nails in his flesh. I reached up to trace the figure, feeling the ridges of those hollow ribs, the sunken-in stomach.

I wanted to know how he felt, in that moment. I clenched my nails into my palms, pressing harder and harder until the skin broke. I gasped from the pain, watched as perfect little spheres of blood rose to the surface of the crescent gashes in my hands. My body had grown warm, pulsating sensations fluttering below my navel. I took the cross from the wall. I don't know what made me do it, only that once my actions were set in motion, I didn't give a single thought as to sin or shame- only desire.

I pressed harder at the cuts, letting blood drip down and smear over the crucifix in my hand. The smooth, painted wood became slick, coated in red. I removed my nightgown and sat with my back against the wall, the warm air of a summer night on my skin, drifting through the barred window on the wall above. Finally, I took the figure of Christ in both hands, and pressed Him between my legs, back and forth as I bit my tongue to prevent groans of pleasure from escaping my lips.

Every contour and ridge of the crucifix sent a new sensation through my body as I worked it upon myself with increasing urgency. I wished the feeling could have lasted forever, but at the same time every ounce of my flesh begged for release. With each beat of my heart the blood flowed down below my abdomen to where I throbbed with reverential lust.

I looked down and saw the dripping, wet mess I'd become. Blood from my palms mixed with the clear fluid and covered the figure of Christ. He was beautiful, He was all mine. I took the cross and inserted the longer end as far as it would go inside of me. The edges were not all smooth, and I winced slightly as I thrusted against it, but the pain was every bit as satisfying as the pleasure. Angled just right, the short arm of the cross provided me with external stimulation alongside the internal, and I lost all will to remain silent. I prayed the other nuns were fast asleep as a moan formed in my throat.

I'd never felt so close to Him, and never before had I felt so electrically charged, as if every nerve in my body were lit up. I knew I was close now, and my hips thrusted as if on impulse, pulled by some invisible string I could not control. My skin was flushed, the cross rubbing against me and inside me threatening with each stroke to finish me off. I pushed harder, faster, desperately waiting for that moment of ecstasy until- finally. I shuddered and my breath caught in my chest, a shiver working its way across my body as I tensed and released. My heart, racing, slowly began to calm. I slid the crucifix out and pressed it against my breast, feeling the wet heat of it against my skin.

I sat there, panting but otherwise silent for some time. If I had been heard, there was no sign of it. I took the time to clean up before making my way to the bed. As I lay there, waiting for sleep to take me, I wondered what the other nuns might have done if they knew... Ultimately I had to put those thoughts to rest because they were proving to elicit yet more questionable urges in my soul, and I needed to rest.

End of part one. Stay tuned for more!

[naturepointstheway]

[Mute Zurich Misto Series - Kittenhood] Chapter 1: New Home

My brain has no idea what it wants to come up with as a proper title for the multi-chapter fic set in kittenhood in the Zurich Misto 'verse. So for now, it's what it is in the title, but at least the chapters have names (I think I'm going to put them here first before expanding out to AO3 once a few more are under my belt). The first chapter is only 3900 words long, but long enough to put under a keep reading!

I'd tried to think what cat would find Misto, and of course it's Old Deuteronomy. We all love Old Deut in this house. Oh yes, and hello there, sentence-long reference to Busopher Jones!

CHAPTER 1: New Home

It wasn’t too extraordinary a day when he first huddled under the shelter of a windowsill whose paint was peeling and chipping away, revealing more wood underneath it day by day. For days, the kitten huddled down in the embrace of a castaway shoebox, long since ragged and worn by downpour and wind. It wasn’t the best of beds, but nor was it the worst of beds, and a sorry piece of cast aside wool lined the inside of it. Near it was a little chipped white plate, one that would be the perfect size for a teacup tucked away in some rich lady’s cabinet—or for a little meal of a poorly mouse all too easily captured by a starving kitten’s tiny paws. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t the best of places (also, a Pollicle certainly did his best to keep a suspicious eye on the kitten), but it was the closest to home.

He really wasn’t sure how he got here—he was too young really to say how he had gotten lost (perhaps he’d fallen from the windowsill and couldn’t get back up?), but it was fine, really, once he got used to it. Sure, it was getting cold, and maybe the shoebox hid him too well from sight. Anyone who came down here never bothered to peer into the dark box camouflaging a black kitten whose eyes were closed in sleep, more often than he was awake.

A worry, really, as, while the first few weeks of autumn had desperately clung on to those happy, carefree summer days, it could not last long. As days, then weeks, piled high, those long-gone summer days dragged into the greyer and cooler days of mid-autumn—which, to tell the truth, is a very pretty season, really, as long as you were not stuck outside in a shoebox with a woollen rag as your only warmth.

He really didn’t know what to do now—he couldn’t really speak (nor did he really want to anyway)—and so here he stayed, but he would more often shiver from the cooling nights, and he curled into a little tight ball, sometimes too tired to tussle with even the world’s laziest mouse snoring away behind an overfilled trashcan filled with mouldy leftovers.

It wasn’t long into another month before, one morning, he strolled down the whole alleyway from his little space, stopping to peer around the corner into the street, scooting back out of the way of a large, portly Tuxedo cat. He couldn’t help but gape in awe at this chunky cat, who looked like a very big, grown-up version of himself, down to the vest of white on his chest and the little pale mittens of his paws. One would have quite understood if they were assumed to be father and son, if they had been seen together.

He really, really wanted to follow, but his little kitten legs would never keep up, but it wouldn’t be for lack of trying, right? Not if he decided to bravely step out anyway, explore this new world—

No, no.

He pinned his ears back, squeezing his eyes shut with a grimace as a gaggle of little human kits scampered past, throwing a round black and white checkered thing between each other, yelling at the tops of their voices like they weren’t all literally right next to each other, but scattered all over the city.

No, no.

He hated this.

He hated this!

Go back, go back to safety, to where it was quiet and warm!

Back, back to his safe little box, where was his shoebox, he could swear it was somewhere—

Well darn it.

He stared at the empty space where his shoebox had been. Who had taken it? He wasn’t mistaken in its location—he knew this spot so well it was imprinted into the deepest parts of his memory.

Had someone stolen it?

Did that giant, angry-looking Pollicle always standing right across the alleyway take it?

The kitten stared at the Pollicle, who stared right back, and his hackles rose, ears flattening against his skull, baring his teeth in a great snarl.

He growled—

The kitten ran, ran back in the opposite direction again, down the bright street, half-drowning himself in a deep puddle, trying to get away from the noise, the cacophony, the bright, the smells, the cold, the damp, where, he didn’t know, he wanted to go—get where it was quiet, and dark and—

In his blind, desperate need to get anywhere he could where his brain could just turn off, he smacked face-firstinto a huge, fluffy and solid wall of cat.

He tumbled backwards, head over paws, crouching low, blinking at whatever—or whoever—it was he’d run into.

Will they chase me?

The big fluffy wall of cat he’d run into was indeed both very big and extremely fluffy, and, judging by all the grey in his fur, was quite an old cat. His eyes peered down at the kitten, something like surprise in his expression, the way he lowered his head to see the little baby better.

“Oh…hello there, little one.”

Something about his voice just—

The kitten stayed quiet, just staring up, a tiny glimmer of late morning light dancing on his little nose.

“Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”

Soothing.

Warm.

Fatherly.

Like he would be safe and sound.

“What’s your name?”

There still was nothing from the kitten, except to get up and trot over to cuddle into his fur. Immediately, a huge paw embraced him close.

“Are you lost?”

Silence again.

“Can you talk at all?”

The kitten shook his head, his mind already clearing, slowly starting to calm down.

“I see.”

He didn’t want to disappoint this friendly cat.

“No matter. You can think your answers at me, if you so wish.”

What’s your name?

Somehow, the kitten sensed his smile, the way his friendly eyes gazed down at him.

“Old Deuteronomy.”

Old Deuteronomy.

“Now, are you lost?”

Not really.

“You’re a stray?”

What’s that?

“A cat without a home.”

Oh… I think I had one, but lost it.

A deep sigh from the cat—Old Deuteronomy, was his name—one that seemed to be full of sadness.

“You don’t know where it is?”

No.

“Well, little one, I’m not letting you walk around without a home, not now it’s getting colder.”

The kitten’s heart leaped with great hope.

I can come home with you?

“This town is my home.”

The kitten didn’t understand, but nodded anyway as though he did.

“But I have many young children with loving homes that I know will have room to spare for another little kitten like yourself.”

Really?

“I can also sense that you are very special.”

The kitten perked up, now looking up in delight at the bigger cat. He was special?!

“You have magic, very powerful magic in you. You’ll see in time.”

I have magic?

“You will see as you grow. Now, why don’t you climb onto my back and I will take you to one of my sons?”

The kitten wanted nothing more in the world than to snuggle down in all that thick fur, away from the wind and the light and the bright and the noise and the smells. He let Old Deuteronomy help him up until he could hide down in the thick layers of fur, clinging on with his little paws as they began to walk down to…well, to wherever he was going. He trusted this cat, trusted him like he’d known him all his whole life—not that it was more than four months long—like he was his own dad.

He wouldn’t have minded if this cat had been his dad.

“Hmm…” the cat’s mumble rumbled under the kitten. “Ah, this would be a perfect place!”

The kitten, more focused on shutting out as much of the sensory world around him as he could, kept his eyes shut, nosing into the fur, hoping that wherever they were going, it was somewhere safe, warm, and dark and quiet.

He knew it would be somewhere safe, warm, dark, and quiet—he knew this cat loved him, wanted to make sure he was in a place of love and security.

He knew that innately in the deepest of his little kitten heart.

“Now,” Old Deuteronomy spoke again, “This is where two of my young boys live—they are brothers, and are small now, but will be big boys one day.” A little chuckle. “Got the Maine Coon gene in them, just as Maine Coon as I am.”

Are they…scary big?

“What, and I am?”

No, you’re not scary. You’re really fluffy and nice.

“I’m glad you think so, little one. Now, let’s see if I can find one of them.”

The kitten heard Old Deuteronomy call a couple of words he couldn’t understand—or, he guessed, maybe they were names? Names of his sons?

“Now, Munkustrap is the older one at this house. He’s going to his first Jellicle Ball this winter coming, and he will be training to be a leader. So he’s very busy.”

The kitten had never ever heard of a “Jellicle Ball” before but it sounded like it was fun—maybe. He’d never been to one before.

“The other—Rum Tum Tugger—everyone calls him Tugger—who lives here is younger, a lot younger, and goodness me, he is a bundle of energy. He’ll keep you busy, let me tell you—he surely keeps his household and his brother on their feet. He’ll keep you on yours.”

Is Mun… is the older one the same?

“Munkustrap? Nah, he’s a sensible one, he won’t keep you up on your feet and running around all day. I sense you like quiet and calm, you’re one of those who doesn’t like too much noise.”

Yeah. I don’t like noise. Especially big ones.

“Well, I promise Munkustrap doesn’t do big noises. He doesn’t like big noises either. Now, Tugger on the other hand—he’s still a kitten, but he can be very loud.”

The kitten decided right there and then he much rather liked Munkustrap a lot better than Tugger.

Will Munkustrap and I be friends?

A long pause, like Old Deuteronomy was thinking hard on his answer.

“He will look after you, make sure you don’t get hurt. He will be very busy soon—oh, and there he is!”

As the big cat called for Munkustrap to come over, the kitten dared peek his head out and sit up on Old Deuteronomy’s back, blinking in the bright daylight. Peering past Old Deuteronomy’s head, he spotted a younger kitten—was he really a kitten? He was very big for a kitten—trotting up with a delighted grin and open arms for a cuddle with the big, fluffy cat.

“Ah, Munkustrap, always good to see you.”

“Dad, who did you bring along?” Munkustrap’s blue eyes locked on to the kitten’s green, the latter immediately looking away, feeling like he’d just looked right into the other cat’s soul. He didn’t like looking into other cats’ eyes—it felt strange and uncomfortable every time.

“A stray who I met on the street just minutes ago.” Old Deuteronomy flicked back an ear invitingly. “Did you want to come down and say hello?” he asked the kitten.

The kitten nodded and immediately jumped down to the grass, right at Old Deuteronomy’s big front paw. Looking up, he saw that, indeed, the grey and silver kitten—Munkustrap—was quite big, and while he still had the appearance of a kitten, it was clear he was going to grow a lot bigger. Perhaps even as big as his father.

At once, Munkustrap crouched low, leaning his head forward, sniffing at the kitten.

“You’re very small for a kitten,” Munkustrap said by way of greeting. “What’s your name?”

“He doesn’t have one,” Old Deuteronomy answered for him, “He is still young enough not to have his second name manifest in his dreams yet.”

“Oh, so only a human name?”

The kitten looked up at Old Deuteronomy and shook his head.

“No name at all? Not even a human-given one?” Munkustrap sounded positively dismayed. “That’s awful!”

“The Everlasting Cat already has a name unique to him that she will reveal in her own time, usually by the eve of his sixth month on Earth at the very latest.”

“So, uh, why did you bring him here?”

“To give him a home where the household will take him in, and where I know my sons will take care of him.”

“Oh!” Munkustrap’s ears—already huge for his kitten size—perked up. “Oh, so I can look after him?”

“I know I can trust you to look after him.”

“What about Tugger?”

“He will keep him entertained, I am sure of it.”

“He’s a boisterous nuisance!”

A hearty laugh from Old Deuteronomy. “Truer words have not been spoken, but I trust Tugger will take care of him too.”

“Well, I’ll take better care of him anyway.”

“You will both be there for him in your unique ways.”

Munkustrap now addressed the kitten. “Hey, so, name’s Munkustrap. Can you say Munkustrap?”

Silence from the mute kitten.

“I should’ve told you before, but this kitten doesn’t—or cannot—speak. I have spoken with him with my psychic magic, but you will be unable to do so.”

“Oh, but why?” Munkustrap asked, and settled down into a loaf sort of sitting. “Is he sick?”

“He doesn’t appear to be so, he’s as healthy as he can be. However…”

Munkustrap did not seem able to keep still, now standing up again, facing his father.

“However?”

“I sense he has very strong, albeit dormant, magical abilities, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

Well, this perked up the kitten’s attention once again—Old Deuteronomy had said before he was magical, wasn’t he?

“What kind of magic?” Munkustrap asked Old Deuteronomy.

“Extremely powerful, and this is why I must impress upon you how important it is that you support him—”

“MUNKUSTRAP! DAD!”

The kitten hissed and clapped his paws over his pinned-back ears at the unexpected shouting.

“Oh dear, here comes Tugger—” he heard Munkustrap mutter.

The kitten felt something bowl right into both himself and Old Deuteronomy—something big, fluffy, with long limbs and enough energy to power a few suns, he was sure.

“Tugger, I love you too, but be careful of the new kitten!”

“KITTEN?!”

Despite himself, the kitten couldn’t help but peek out of his paws, opening an eye in time to see a huge face with wide eyes nose right into his view, so now all he could see were two amber eyes.

“Oooh, dad, where’d you find him? Or is he a brother too?!”

“Calm down, Tugger,” Munkustrap’s voice came from behind them. “Father met this stray while walking earlier today.”

“He’s so tiny.”

Tugger bopped the kitten’s head with a paw, and indeed, he was tiny enough he could have nearly fit easily on that paw. It was a hard bop though and he winced, covering his eyes again.

“Hey,” Old Deuteronomy’s voice came through again, “Be careful with him.”

“I think he’s fine!” Tugger ruffled the kitten’s back fur with his paw—that was going to be a lot of grooming back into place. “Look, he doesn’t care at all! Hey, what’s your name—”

“Tugger, he’s still too young for the Everlasting Cat to have given him his name,” Munkustrap interrupted. “Also, he’s mute.”

“Oh,” Tugger sounded disappointed, “Mute? Well, that’s boring.”

 “Tugger!” Both Old Deuteronomy and Munkustrap chided.

Oh. I’m boring?

The kitten entirely forgot in his hurt that Old Deuteronomy could hear his thoughts, and at once, the older cat’s big paw batted away Tugger’s and stroked protectively over the kitten’s back, the fur groomed back into place again. At once, he relaxed, assured by Old Deuteronomy’s comfort.

“Tugger, he might turn out not to be as… uninteresting as you fear.”

“Why?”

“Well… that’s for you to find out.”

“And I know already,” Munkustrap cut in, and Tugger immediately spun around, seeming to forget about the kitten—to his relief—for now.

“AND?”

“Indoor voice, Tugger,” Munkustrap chided. “And according to dad, it’s magic.”

“Magic?!”

Now Tugger spun around to face the kitten again, attempting to drag one paw away from his eyes.

“You have magic?!”

All he could do was shrug. If he had magic, it certainly hadn’t shown itself yet. He felt like an entirely normal kitten. An entirely normal kitten desperately wanting to go somewhere quiet and small and dark and cosy where he would not be interrupted for as long as he could have a nice long nap.

“How do you not know?!”

Old Deuteronomy answered, “Let him be. I believe it will begin to reveal itself once he knows his unique name.”

“Really? Promise? Promise, promise, promise?”

“I promise. Now let’s get him inside, boys. I believe he will have a home here.”

“He’s staying here?” Tugger gave a loud whoop. “New brother!”

“He is not one of my own sons, but he is already as much family as you are.”

“But he’s not your son?”

“He is as good as.”

Something warm swelled and burst in the kitten’s tiny beating heart, and he was glad for the paws covering his eyes, as they were starting to feel wet with tears.

Thank you.

“You’re welcome,” Old Deuteronomy whispered to him, “Now, would you like to follow Munkustrap and Tugger back inside?”

Don’t leave me, please?

An assuring stroke over his head and back. “Don’t worry, you’ll see me around again.”

I miss you already.

“Hang on, are you talking with him?” asked the loud, annoying kitten. “How?”

The black kitten lowered his paws from his eyes to see Old Deuteronomy smiling down at him, even while addressing that very boisterous son. He rather liked Munkustrap a lot more right now.

“I can hear him direct his thoughts at me,” Old Deuteronomy explained, “But you know I have the magic to hear what he is saying in his mind.”

“And we don’t.”

He felt quite pleased at how disappointed Tugger sounded. Good. He was more special than that loud-mouth because he could talk to Old Deuteronomy without having to say anything out loud. Though he would have liked to have been able to talk his thoughts into Munkustrap’s head. Munkustrap was his favourite kitten, he decided, he was quieter, smarter (probably), nicer, and surely a lot kinder in his play. He wanted to play with him more than he did the louder cat.

Where will I sleep? The kitten asked Old Deuteronomy.

“Anywhere you please,” was the response, “This is your home now.”

Mine?

“Yes, yours.”

He might like it, as long as Munkustrap would stay too.

Will Munkustrap stay too?

“Yes, both Munkustrap and Tugger live here too.”

Oh.

“Yup!” Tugger confirmed, and the kitten’s heart sank.

He lives here too?

“Of course, they’re brothers and both belong to the same household.”

So, he’s not going away?

A laugh from Old Deuteronomy, but the kitten was confused, not sure what was funny about what he had just asked.

“Not for a long time, I am sure of it.”

I like Munkustrap more.

A note of amusement stayed in the old cat’s voice as he said, “Looks like he’s taking a shine to you already, Munkustrap.”

“Because I’m a mature cat, that’s why.”

“Munkustrap…”

“Yes, dad.”

“Remember what I said before about good leaders?”

Leader? What is he a leader of?

“They don’t boast about themselves?”

“That’s right.”

“Which means I can boast as much as I like! Hah!”

He really was liking Tugger less and less with every second.

“Shut up, Tugger!”

“Boys, play nicely. Now, I regret, I must carry on, so I implore you to take care of the kitten, okay? I brought him here because I know the household will accept him, and I expect that you will make him feel as welcome as possible.”

“Promise, dad.”

“Will do! Can’t wait to see his magic! When will I see it?”

Hopefully never, or as long as he could get away with not showing it in front of Tugger, once it manifested within him. Munkustrap, on the other hand, he’d be happy to show him first thing it began to spark up in earnest.

Will you come back again?

Old Deuteronomy nodded down at him. “Of course, but know it may not be for a while.”

How long is a while?

“Don’t worry, it won’t be forever. But I know Munkustrap and Tugger will take care of you, make you feel right at home.”

What about my name? My magic? How will I know? What does my magic look like?

With a smile, Old Deuteronomy held up a paw to stem the flow of questions.

“The Everlasting Cat shows you your name in your dreams as soon as you turn six months old, and you will know when your magic stirs in you.”

But what does magic feel like?

A mysterious smile. “You will know.”

Will the Everlasting Cat tell me as well?

“She may, but I do not presume to know all her ways.”

Oh.

“Sorry I cannot tell you anymore, little one. But I can promise you will know. You will sense it in yourself.”

But you have magic too, don’t you?

“Yes, but what I feel with it will not be the same as you.”

It’s different to yours?

“Different for every cat with magic.”

“Munk, this is so weird,” the kitten heard Tugger snicker, “Watching this—yes, dad.”

Old Deuteronomy hadn’t said a word, but clearly he’d given Tugger a look that made him quieten down again.

“Munkustrap, Tugger, thank you for being so willing to take him under your care. I will be by again, perhaps I may make it in a couple months when he is revealed his name by the Everlasting Cat.”

The kitten’s ears perked right up, and already he began to feel a bit better again.

Really?

“I will be by again, boys, now behave and be sure to give this kitten all the love he deserves.”

“Don’t worry, we will,” Munkustrap said, as he gave his dad a big hug. “I’ll make sure he’s safe here.”

I like Munkustrap more and more already.

“So will I!” Tugger cut in with the world’s biggest and most annoying grin.

No not you.

Instead of hugging him like the kitten thought he would, Tugger simply gave his dad the world’s most overdramatic little bow and cheery wave.

“Bye dad!”

Old Deuteronomy turned and gave one last wave back at the three of them, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners.

And then he turned and disappeared around the corner.

This was it then.

This was his new place.

New family.

But would it ever be his home?

[msdanigart]

My Art Market Tables Over the Years

I'm new to being a vendor at handmade and small business markets. Here's what I've done so far and what I've learned.

-------------

November 2019- Trini Market 868- University of the West Indies, St. Augustine, Trinidad and Tobago

This was when I was still Ms. Dani G Illustration, creating my fairy fantasy artworks. My table was totally DIYed, made of cardboard, that sticky contact paper you use to cover the insides of your drawers and cupboards and popsicle sticks.

It was very hodge-podge and I think it's my favourite table! It looks so full of life! I Definitely brought too much stuff though. It's a bit overwhelming. Too much variety and too little organisation.

The crowd was great and I sold one of my original paintings! Overall, wonderful first experience!

Table cost- $375 (early bird discount) Money made- $175

April 2022- South Marker- C3 Mall, San Fernando, Trinidad and Tobago

I was still Ms. Dani G Illustration, still creating my fairy fantasy art. I brought a lot less this time, but there was still a decent assortment of products. Prints, zines, stickers, tiny originals, handmade jewellery. I sold a few of everything except the original paintings. Stickers were the best seller.

I think this was definitely my best table in terms of set-up and product variety. Everything has its own place and products can be seen and looked through easily. I did less decoration, wish I did more. My table felt really small compared to some of the others I saw there.

The crowd was a mixed bag. Younger people liked my stuff, but some of them had to ask Mum and Dad to buy. Mum and Dad threw some side-eyes. Older people in general weren't too interested.

Overall, alright experience, glad it wasn't my first, because I would have been crushed tbh.

Table cost- $400 Money made- $172

November 2023 South Market- C3 Mall, San Fernando, Trinidad and Tobago

My first market as Ms. Dani G Art with my patterns and abstracts. I only came with originals for this one, as I couldn't afford other products. I also wanted to focus on selling my paintings.

I DIYed the yellow and white stand and used my assortment of mini easels as displays. Some of my art was also framed. This set-up is very simple as I wanted everything to be clearly seen at a glance. I think it looks a bit too disjointed even though everything on the table is in the same category.

This was my worst market by far because I sold nothing! Luckily, that market in particular was a bust for almost everyone else too.

The crowd was the opposite of last time. A lot of young people who would have loved my old art, but didn't give two hoots about my current art. I made a video series about this market here.

Table cost- $450 Money made- $0

Conclusion:

-I like the personality of my first two tables and I need to bring that back for my future tables.

-The 2nd table had the best set-up and product variety. I'm not yet at a place where I can sell just my paintings, so I need to bring back that product variety for my next table (I have many plans!)

-Try a new location to find new clientele. C3 hasn't worked out well so far. South Market has other locations and so does Trini Market.

-Try new dates, particularly holidays. Holiday markets have the biggest crowds. I can plan ahead so I can participate in one or a few.

-Save up for those expensive AF tables. $400-$500 seems to be the standard price for tables and 2 chairs (this is in TTD by the way, not USD)

------------

This year (2024) I plan to do an August (summer) market. I want to do another Trini Market because they're closer to home and the crowd is more appreciative of art. I also plan to try a different location at South Market.

Someday I would also like to table at a local comic convention with my personal art ( @adinelleggreeo ) I'm slowly creating things I enjoy again and I'd like to try selling some of them without pressure.

[dvzaiosamu]

Ao3 fanfic recommendations and name ideas por fanfics — bsd

Again, yes... I apologize. I swear I'm not doing more, I'll post in a future, so I don't bother yall with these so much.

It's the same as the other two parts! Only that I'm also giving fanfic name ideas for yall to make wonderful stories. If yall take some name ideas for fanfic, I'd want to take a look at them! Of course, I don't force any of you, but if some of you wish to, you can send me the link in my inbox.

FANFIC RECOMMENDATION.

Dark is the Night — [fyodor x reader]

Summary: Winter, 1942. Stalingrad is no longer a town but a hellscape of destruction. By day clouds of smoke rise from the rubble into the frigid sky, burning and blinding. When night arrives it falls scorching and howling, an inferno of cold. Slow victory is measured not by meters, city blocks or even buildings but by bodies.

Night arrives and you are not sleeping. Neither is he. In the gloom of the shelled warehouse basement, a long narrow room lit only by dimmed lanterns and the occasional meager campfire, his eyes find yours.

A stranger to the squad, but that’s not unusual in the chaos that is Stalingrad. His hair is not close-cropped but dark and lank, falling across a handsome, pale face in which odd magenta eyes glow. His clothing, too, is not standard-issue Red Army but tall soft boots and a dark, fur-trimmed cape. Again, nothing unusual. Here, men do what it takes to keep warm in the brutal conditions.

“Your hat,” he whispers across the narrow corridor from where you are propped on opposite sides, careful not to wake the sleeping soldiers that surround you. He touches his head, drawing your attention to the white ushanka you are wearing. “It looks very warm.”

Summer Watercolours — [fyolai]

Summary: Nikolai paints rocks and hides them around the beach, Fyodor visits during the summer and hates the heat but the colourful rocks catch his eye.

(Prequel to Summer Waves, another fanfic I wrote)

Summer Waves — [soukoku]

Summary: Osamu Dazai leaves for college but never forgets his beloved Chuuya Nakahara.

Prayers of Impermanence — [soukoku]

Summary: As a temple master, he has recieved a lot of strange requests over the years. This particular client is the strangest of them all. After all, why would anyone actually went to be haunted by ghosts?

[or: POV Outsider, Post-Beast. Chuuya wants to be haunted by Dazai's ghost]

If I called your name, would you even answer? — [soukoku]

Summary: After a year of dating and living together, Dazai feels deeply neglected when Chuuya starts spending more and more time away from him.

Could it be that Chuuya is bored of him? Has he found another partner? Or…is it something completely different?

A mask is sinking in the sea fog — [soukoku]

Summary: Cheap cigarettes burn in a blue fog, giving free rein to secrets and sincerity.

For You I'd Catch Every Cold — [fyolai]

Summary: Growing up in the cold winters of Ukraine, Nikolai was unfortunately good friends with the common cold. He absolutely hated getting sick but it was an unavoidable curse that came with living in the northern lands. Even after his chance meeting with the mysterious man known as Fyodor Dostoyevsky, the seasonal flu continued to plague his life. But perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he previously thought-

A sort of ‘through the years’ look at the relationship between Nikolai and Fyodor and their propensity to get sick.

Based on a lovely Tik-Tok by @fruit_chus!

FANFIC NAME IDEAS.

Ceasefire of Hostility.

Sin and Sinuous.

Hot Summer afternoon.

Taste of Heaven.

Death of the Horned Goose.

The Whispering Turnip.

The Mystery of Miss/Mr [character name].

Last Marigold.

Drown the Future.

Flavour of Death.

Prey of the Night.

Cheating will not help you out.

Rain of Iron.

Bite me, Kill me, but don't tell me you're leaving.

If I die, will you be at my grave?

Sing once more that song and I'll cry once again.

Greyed Morals.

It Almost Worked.

Pretty when you Cry.

I've lost myself.

This is how Mother raised me.

I throw up in her Bathroom, but she still Offers me a Drink.

I can't cry when my eyes are already Dry, can you?

Hunting Swirl of the Cirque.

Meat between Flowers.

Bloody Hands.

Silver Corpse.

The Love Empire has Fallen.

Used Knife.

The Twisted Daydream of his Paranoia.

That's all, I hope these fanfic name ideas could help any of you, if so, I would happily read them! You can use the tag dvzaiosamu's place for stories to show me your works!

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

Thank you for the tag, @alltheprettyplaces 💜

APPEARANCE: i’m under 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair (I've been dying my hair red for a good ten years or so) // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily (actually haven't gotten a sunburn yet this summer...but that probably says more about the amount of time i've spent outside) // i have freckles // i paint my nails (I never used to take the time to do it but for the last year or so I pretty much always paint my nails) // i typically wear make-up (basically just foundation and an eyebrow pencil to color in my eyebrows so they don't look ridiculous with my dyed hair) // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look (I mean, I'm not horribly displeased with it, so sure) // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES AND TALENTS: i play a sport // i can play an instrument (I took piano lessons for 10 years when I was young...I'm a little rusty but I can still play a bit) // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim (just well enough to not drown)// i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks (not as much as I'd like to though) // i can do a handstand

RELATIONSHIP: i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year (WELL over a year) // i have a crush // i have a best friends i have known for ten years (I've known one of my best friends for about 31 years and the other for about 20)// my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

AESTHETICS: i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

MISCELLANEOUS: i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend// i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities //i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead (artificially, but i'm going to count it) // i own at least three dogs

No pressure tagging @autistic-lesbian-story-lover @carlos-in-glasses @three-drink-amy @actual-sleeping-beauty @first-kanaphan @fitzherbertssmolder @violeblanche @ladytessa74

[moonperished]

Lee Kitae: A Playlist

Second Hand Love - Cassadee Pope

"My heart has no pride standing here Good thing I can take the tears Sew you up as I'm tearing at the seams It's so good yeah while it lasts Go ahead and strike the match Burn me down make ashes out of me I breathe you in, breathe you in, like my first cigarette Breathe you out, breathe you out, turning off the regret Don't worry baby cause it's all my fault I'll take the parts that she doesn't want Breathe you in, breathe you in, take the spark with the smoke Breathe you out, breathe you out, feel the rush as I choke I know it's worth it baby even if it's just secondhand, secondhand love"

Paper Rings - Taylor Swift

"In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool When you jumped in first, I went in too I'm with you even if it makes me blue Which takes me back To the color that we painted your brother's wall Honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws We wouldn't be standing here so tall, so Kiss you once 'cause I know you had a long night Kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause you waited your whole life I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings"

Cruel Summer - Taylor Swift

"So cut the headlights, summer's a knife I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know I'm drunk in the back of the car And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh) Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

Violet Chemistry - Miley Cyrus

"Stay awhile, stay awhile with me Stay awhile, don't deny the violet chemistry Stay awhile, stay awhile with me Stay awhile, put your arms around me Put them around me Fingers start to dance along the figures and the shapes Mixing all the colors like we're making a Monet There's something between us that's too major to ignore May not be eternal but nocturnal nothing more"

All Too Well (10 Minute Version) - Taylor Swift

"They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new Hell Every time you double-cross my mind You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine And that made me want to die The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you Not weeping in a party bathroom Some actress asking me what happened, you That's what happened, you You who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes Sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come And he said, "It's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one""

Mamacita - Chase Atlantic

"Kind face with a cruel heart She can do it better than a pornstar She don’t carry no more xan bars She can work that product on her lonesome Look her in the eyes and go insane She been kicking shit, get out the fucking way She can take away all of the pain MAMACITA there is nothing left to say"

Call it What You Want To - Taylor Swift

"And I know I make the same mistakes every time Bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right I did one thing right I'm laughin' with my lover, makin' forts under covers Trust him like a brother, yeah, you know I did one thing right Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night My baby's fit like a daydream Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to"

[demotastic]

Haiku Collection

1

Autumn leaves rustle. Warm colours paint the fresh snow. Orange, white and blood.

Final breaths shallow. It's grave even shallower. Beautiful roadkill.

Watery black beads. I tried to ask: how and why? It just stared at me.

2

When the last snow melts It wets my lips, baths the plants. warm spring, blanket me.

For now it's still cold. I cling onto mismatched gloves. I'll find each pair soon.

I do not fear death. I fear for those who love me. Will they see their sun?

3

Hear that? It is spring! Winter's claim now rots away. a warm bed for growth.

This body is mine. Calm and steady in the mulch. This corpse is now yours.

Plant flowers in me. So I'd give you allergies. We'll be sick together.

4

Radiant summer sun. Even behind my eyelids, you shine so brightly.

Your brilliant warmth, it baths and cleanses my heart. flooded with pure joy.

Even when it rains. Your glow lights the morning sky. Part into rainbows.

5

Sweltering summer. I never hid in the shade. Bare myself to you.

I thirst for a drink. Will you let me have a sip? Do I have to bite?

Might rip out your throat. Might paint the tiles like Pollock, roll around in it.

6

Like moss to a stone. Like parasite ferns cling to trees. Like my hand on you.

Let me be your last. I know your pain, how it stings. Let me stitch those wounds.

Death do us apart. It can try, I'll never budge. Locked between your legs.

7

The air is so still. it is not cold, nor is it hot. painfully absent.

The thunder-less storm. Blots out the moon and stars. A featureless void.

A hand on my chest. I tell myself it is okay. No need for sorries.

8

Block from the birch tree. You carved a puppet of me. Pull my strings gently.

When you give me moans. Want to flay to the bone. Stitch you to my tomb

How you say my name. Enough to take me as claim. Now for you to tame.

9

Dance, the snow it dances. Twirling, spinning, refracting. A billion colours.

It is beautiful. But I want only this one. The colour of you.

I want to paint you. My wife would look cute in you. This colour, so rare.

10

Bite the hand that feeds? No, you're just used to the fist. That beats, batters, breaks.

I open my palm. I know you've bite my arm. but what's another.

Hate the iron taste. My white knuckles blistering. Your pain, I hate it.

11

The dead of winter. black, gnarled fingers reach up high. reaching for heaven.

but there is nothing. just cold bitter winter air. breaking off branches.

bury all the twigs. but I cannot be that cold. you deserve some warmth.

12

You said such nice things. Those sweet words flooded my chest. stuck like spring pollen.

I felt dirty and cheap. My lungs tried to eject it. my heart rejects it.

It is wasted here. It felt nice while it lasted, but I spat it out.

13

Just for you I would. Would wear it around my knees, This dirty rag.

I'd let you stand there, Let you let me bleed out. Beautiful roadkill

Infect every vein. Fuck you with my disease. Fill you with ichor.

14

He is winter skies My eyes dry out when he sighs For I stare, no blinks.

Winter, hope he stays. My excuse to hug my wife. Keep her warm, love filled.

She is spring, it's clear. Sometimes I yearn the cold nip. but it bleeds my lips.

White petals stained red. Her beauty coloured and flush. A shy pink of fear.

Is it so greedy To have two favourite seasons Have one for each hand.

Each snowflake unique. My lungs warm with her pollen. Tongue glued to his frost.

15

Love, it comes and goes. Love, you make it in your bed. Love, never enough.

Hate, gun 'bout to blow. Hate, it lingers in your head. Hate, never runs out.

They both blush your face. They both tie your heart in knots. But one always wins.

16

That was my problem, I held on to it too tight. In return? Frost bite.

I could be evil. Be the prophecy you spoke. Cut it off, Bleeding.

I still have my spring. A boiling, beating heart, loved. And six more fingers.

What will you become? While I have my peace to heal. You? Alone, crying.

You will be rotting. Left there where I first found you. Broken and rotten.

17

I though it was done. Here I stand a tired fool. broken by a call.

a call in the white. Left hand glued to the phone booth. Will my right hand bleed?

Crushed red spring petals. Smelled like love, they smelled like home. but will there be space?

18

Yeah, it's 2am. Got a pocket load of friends. and I feel again

2am again. I'll never feel alone. with friends in my phone.

After all these weeks. Never I've felt such a peak. 2am again.

[survey--s]

664.

Have you had more hot or cold drinks today? An equal number of both - two coffees, a glass of juice and a Pepsi.

What's a name you like that's similar to yours? Nicole.

Where did you get the last plate/bowl you ate with from? Uh, it's from ASDA I think.

How's your mental health today? Pretty great because it's the weekend.

What bands and artists did you listen to when you were a teenager? Fall Out Boy, Green Day, Panic! At The Disco, Funeral for a Friend, Hawthorne Heights - then I did a total 180 and started listening to stuff like Bright Eyes, Rilo Kiley, Nerina Pallot and Imogen Heap.

Do your feelings get hurt easily? Not really.

What sort of restaurant did you last eat at? It's a vegetarian/Italian place.

Do you have a friend who's always sending you TikTok videos? Do you actually watch them? Yeah, they're always cat, beagle or horse related lol. I do watch them for the most part, but they're normally ones I've already seen.

Have you ever seen a cougar in the wild? No, but I remember staying at a resort in Canada that had hiking trails and there were loads of warning signs about what to do if you saw a Cougar.

Will you attend a wedding in the next 3 months? No.

Are you good at following instructions? It depends, but generally yes.

What's your backyard or outdoor area like? It's fine - the walls need painting and I want to get it cat-proofed at some point too.

Do you like your boss? (or your last boss if you don't currently have one) I work for myself. I liked my previous boss on a personal level - he was a lovely person but an absolutely awful manager. He had clear favourites and was way too easily influenced by wanting to be popular.

When was the last time you took a selfie? I took one with the cat last week lol.

What did you have for breakfast yesterday? Peanut butter and banana on toast, coffee, fruit juice.

What do you do to entertain yourself on a long flight or journey? I use the in-flight entertainment mostly. If I'm on a train I'd just use the WiFI to mess about. In cars I mostly sleep or talk to the driver.

Where are you right now? On the sofa under a cosy blanket, watching Harry Potter.

Have you ever done a hearing test? No, I don't think so.

Do you hate small talk? It depends. I'm happy to chat to people I meet walking the dogs or something but I hate small talk in shops.

What's the hottest temperature your current town/city has ever had? I have no idea, probably mid-thirties? It got to about 33 or something last summer, anyway.

What programs/applications do you currently have open on the device you're using right now? Just Chrome.

How many steps per day do you do, generally? On work days, around 18k. On weekends, maybe 200 lol.

Have you had any snacks today? Yeah, I had an apple with peanut butter and some crisps.

Did you have any exchange students at your high school or university and did you become friends with them? Yeah, we had loads at school. I was friends with a few of them - they were mostly from Germany or Hong Kong. One of the girls from Hong Kong used to stay and have sleepovers with us quite a lot.

What's the next thing you'll tick off your to-do list? I have nothng that really needs doing today? Oh, I guess giving the dog his medication as there'll be fireworks this evening.

Have you ever had a chia pet? I have no idea what that is.

What's your favourite sandwich filling? Prawn mayonnaise, or brie, grape and cranberry. A good old bacon or sausage sandwich is nice too.

Do you have any nieces or nephews? Not biological ones.

What was the last reason you saw a doctor? To get a sick note from work.

Do you use light mode or dark mode on your phone? Dark. Light mode looks really weird to me now.

[chateau7afra]

22/10/23

I missed the gentle caw caw noises crows make. The air smelled like wood-smoke and I could hear traditional music coming from my neighbours garden. Um-Ta-Ta music, they call it lovingly. I don't call it that lovingly. I could do without it, but it reminds me of my childhood, so I guess that's a good enough excuse to smile at it while walking by. The mixture between the low setting sun and the warm temperatures is unsetteling in a very subtle kind of way. It's not a crazy juxtaposition, but weird enough to be noticeable.

A small swarm of gnats were frantically flying zig-zag lines through the middle distance. I wondered, if they shouldn't be dead or frozen. By the time we put up halloween decorations, the forest is usually heavily painted in colours other than green, but this year it is still mostly yellow, or lush green.

This was the longest summer of my life. Yet.

It's 9 days until halloween and I still feel like it's late summer. A couple of weeks ago, people were still swimming in the danube. Normal people, not the crazy ice bathing ones.

I always wanted to move somewhere south, which is the central-european way of saying "somewhere warmer", but I never thought, that "south" would so freely move to central europe. Which is again, unsetteling, to say the least.

When I walked to the small creek that is near my family's house, I heard frogs croaking and noticed even more gnats hovering above the water.

Again, they should get ready to be frozen too, in my books.

I watched the crows again, flying circles over the fields, behind them the halfmoon, which has already risen. Beautiful.

Dad came back from the forest and told us, the wild boars ventured out into the fields again. I don't blame them.

They dig up big holes in the fields and the farmers and hunters have to close them again. I'm not exactly sure, what they are looking for. But probably bugs and roots.

I didn't go through the forest yet, to check for mushrooms. I don't look for edible ones, because I am very sure that I would kill myself and others, if I cooked anything I found in the woods. I know what chanterelles and toadstools look like, but that is it. I like to take pictures of them though. Last year I found a couple of fairy rings. That is the thing when mushroom grow in perfect circles. It has something to do with mycellium, but I'd rather think of it as something magical, which is more fun.

Mum harvested some apples and a huge zucchini. We made a ragout and applesauce. It always grounded me, to cook with foods that grow on the farm.

Our farm is situated in a small valley. I am sometimes jealous of the farms and houses, which are on the hills, because they get more sunshine and a better view. We are basically surrounded by forest. Which I don't hate.

Sometimes, we get deer grazing with their little ones, right in front of my window, under the apple trees. The scene feels very peaceful, especially when there is some fog lingering on the field, which happens a lot because of the little stream, that bubbles it's way through the houses.

It feels a little less peaceful during the night. Deer make a sound that seems to not be from this world. You can hear a lot of different sounds in the forest. I've never really see badgers, wild boars and foxes, but they are around. They just don't want me to see them.

Sometimes we find our chicken's eggs in weird places. I love it when that happens. I wish I could pretend it's magic. But it's just ferrets. I still wonder how they transport them so professionally.

I don't blame people from the olden days, for being supersticious and believe in ghosts and all of that. Without the full moon it's pitch black in the forest. For human eyes at least.

I want to be a fox, just for one full moon night and stroll through the forest. Just to see what's going on in there. A night were all the hunters are asleep though.