#rather than just focusing on my big picture

[thefrogman]

Hey there,

I'm interested in getting involved into a hobby level of natural photography. I was wondering what a good intermediate camera, and what top 3 lens (if any) you'd recommend. I love using my cellphone but some shots, like birds riding thermals or looking at a specific spot for a long time to get a good shot just isn't as easy with a phone. I intend to shop around and see if I can play with different things, but getting an entry level start point would be great.

Thanks!!

I'm going to assume you mean nature photography due to you mentioning birds. That does cover a lot of different things so it's hard to give you a great recommendation without more details. Your budget range and some more examples of what you'd like to photograph can help me help you a little better.

That said, I can give you an example of a general nature setup that I might suggest. I can't say if this exact system is a good fit for you without more information, but it can get you started in your research.

The big problem with nature is distance. A lot of the critters you may want to photograph are skittish and it is hard to get close enough to them and the big telephoto lenses can get quite expensive. There are superzooms that will technically work, but a lot of times their optical quality is not good enough to get artistic-quality shots. They would be more for documenting that you saw a thing rather than capturing a pretty shot of the thing. So if you see a zoom lens that goes from 100-600mm or 80-400mm... just anything with an extensive range... typically those are going to be low quality optics.

A trick to get a bit more range is to get a slightly smaller sensor. If you get an APS-C camera, it will essentially give you 1.5x additional zoom with every lens. But you sacrifice some dynamic range and low light ability. So dark scenes or scenes that are both very bright and very dark could be a challenge.

A very popular wildlife camera body is the Canon 7D mark II. It has a pretty advanced focusing system for a DSLR and can be found for a decent price on the used market.

You could get a 24-70mm f/4 lens for your general purpose photography. This can get wide angle shots for vistas and forests and also zoom in if you need to.

Perhaps a 100mm macro lens for taking pictures of bugs and flowers and mushrooms. But it is also slightly telephoto so you can capture some birds, larger mammals, and even take portraits of people too.

And then the Canon 400mm f/5.6 prime is a classic bird lens that is fairly telephoto, has good optics, and won't explode your budget.

And just because it is so dang inexpensive for what you get, the 50mm f/1.8 "Nifty Fifty" is always a good idea to get just so you have something that can work in very low light.

That would cover a pretty large swath of subject matter if you were to head into the wilderness to capture what you saw.

[gender-trash]

I would be very interested in hearing the museum design rant

by popular demand: Guy That Took One (1) Museum Studies Class Focused On Science Museums Rants About Art Museums. thank u for coming please have a seat

so. background. the concept of the "science museum" grew out of 1) the wunderkammer (cabinet of curiosities), also known as "hey check out all this weird cool shit i have", and 2) academic collections of natural history specimens (usually taxidermied) -- pre-photography these were super important for biological research (see also). early science museums usually grew out of university collections or bequests of some guy's Weird Shit Collection or both, and were focused on utility to researchers rather than educational value to the layperson (picture a room just, full of taxidermy birds with little labels on them and not a lot of curation outside that). eventually i guess they figured they could make more on admission by aiming for a mass audience? or maybe it was the cultural influence of all the world's fairs and shit (many of which also caused science museums to exist), which were aimed at a mass audience. or maybe it was because the research function became much more divorced from the museum function over time. i dunno. ANYWAY, science and technology museums nowadays have basically zero research function; the exhibits are designed more or less solely for educating the layperson (and very frequently the layperson is assumed to be a child, which does honestly irritate me, as an adult who likes to go to science museums). the collections are still there in case someone does need some DNA from one of the preserved bird skins, but items from the collections that are exhibited typically exist in service of the exhibit's conceptual message, rather than the other way around.

meanwhile at art museums they kind of haven't moved on from the "here is my pile of weird shit" paradigm, except it's "here is my pile of Fine Art". as far as i can tell, the thing that curators (and donors!) care about above all is The Collection. what artists are represented in The Collection? rich fucks derive personal prestige from donating their shit to The Collection. in big art museums usually something like 3-5% of the collection is ever on exhibit -- and sometimes they rotate stuff from the vault in and out, but let's be real, only a fraction of an art museum's square footage is temporary exhibits. they're not going to take the scream off display when it's like the only reason anyone who's not a giant nerd ever visits the norwegian national museum of art. most of the stuff in the vault just sits in the vault forever. like -- art museum curators, my dudes, do you think the general public gives a SINGLE FUCK what's in The Collection that isn't on display? no!! but i guarantee you it will never occur, ever, to an art museum curator that they could print-to-scale high-res images of artworks that are NOT in The Collection in order to contextualize the art in an exhibit, because items that are not in The Collection functionally do not exist to them. (and of course there's the deaccessioning discourse -- tumblr collectively has some level of awareness that repatriation is A Whole Kettle of Worms but even just garden-variety selling off parts of The Collection is a huge hairy fucking deal. check out deaccessioning and its discontents; it's a banger read if you're into This Kind Of Thing.)

with the contents of The Collection foregrounded like this, what you wind up with is art museum exhibits where the exhibit's message is kind of downstream of what shit you've got in the collection. often the message is just "here is some art from [century] [location]", or, if someone felt like doing a little exhibit design one fine morning, "here is some art from [century] [location] which is interesting for [reason]". the displays are SOOOOO bad by science museum standards -- if you're lucky you get a little explanatory placard in tiny font relating the art to an art movement or to its historical context or to the artist's career. if you're unlucky you get artist name, date, and medium. fucker most of the people who visit your museum know Jack Shit about art history why are you doing them dirty like this

(if you don't get it you're just not Cultured enough. fuck you, we're the art museum!)

i think i've talked about this before on this blog but the best-exhibited art exhibit i've ever been to was actually at the boston museum of science, in this traveling leonardo da vinci exhibit where they'd done a bunch of historical reconstructions of inventions out of his notebooks, and that was the main Thing, but also they had a whole little exhibit devoted to the mona lisa. obviously they didn't even have the real fucking mona lisa, but they went into a lot of detail on like -- here's some X-ray and UV photos of it, and here's how art experts interpret them. here's a (photo of a) contemporary study of the finished painting, which we've cleaned the yellowed varnish off of, so you can see what the colors looked like before the varnish yellowed. here's why we can't clean the varnish off the actual painting (da vinci used multiple varnish layers and thinned paints to translucency with varnish to create the illusion of depth, which means we now can't remove the yellowed varnish without stripping paint).

even if you don't go into that level of depth about every painting (and how could you? there absolutely wouldn't be space), you could at least talk a little about, like, pigment availability -- pigment availability is an INCREDIBLY useful lens for looking at historical paintings and, unbelievably, never once have i seen an art museum exhibit discuss it (and i've been to a lot of art museums). you know how medieval european religious paintings often have funky skin tones? THEY HADN'T INVENTED CADMIUM PIGMENTS YET. for red pigments you had like... red ochre (a muted earth-based pigment, like all ochres and umbers), vermilion (ESPENSIVE), alizarin crimson (aka madder -- this is one of my favorite reds, but it's cool-toned and NOT good for mixing most skintones), carmine/cochineal (ALSO ESPENSIVE, and purple-ish so you wouldn't want to use it for skintones anyway), red lead/minium (cheaper than vermilion), indian red/various other iron oxide reds, and apparently fucking realgar? sure. whatever. what the hell was i talking about.

oh yeah -- anyway, i'd kill for an art exhibit that's just, like, one or two oil paintings from each century for six centuries, with sample palettes of the pigments they used. but no! if an art museum curator has to put in any level of effort beyond writing up a little placard and maybe a room-level text block, they'll literally keel over and die. dude, every piece of art was made in a material context for a social purpose! it's completely deranged to divorce it from its material context and only mention the social purpose insofar as it matters to art history the field. for god's sake half the time the placard doesn't even tell you if the thing was a commission or not. there's a lot to be said about edo period woodblock prints and mass culture driven by the growing merchant class! the met has a fuckton of edo period prints; they could get a hell of an exhibit out of that!

or, tying back to an earlier thread -- the detroit institute of arts has got a solid like eight picasso paintings. when i went, they were kind of just... hanging out in a room. fuck it, let's make this an exhibit! picasso's an artist who pretty famously had Periods, right? why don't you group the paintings by period, and if you've only got one or two (or even zero!) from a particular period, pad it out with some decent life-size prints so i can compare them and get a better sense for the overarching similarities? and then arrange them all in a timeline, with little summaries of what each Period was ~about~? that'd teach me a hell of a lot more about picasso -- but you'd have to admit you don't have Every Cool Painting Ever in The Collection, which is illegalé.

also thinking about the mit museum temporary exhibit i saw briefly (sorry, i was only there for like 10 minutes because i arrived early for a meeting and didn't get a chance to go through it super thoroughly) of a bunch of ship technical drawings from the Hart nautical collection. if you handed this shit to an art museum curator they'd just stick it on the wall and tell you to stand around and look at it until you Understood. so anyway the mit museum had this enormous room-sized diorama of various hull shapes and how they sat in the water and their benefits and drawbacks, placed below the relevant technical drawings.

tbh i think the main problem is that art museum people and science museum people are completely different sets of people, trained in completely different curatorial traditions. it would not occur to an art museum curator to do anything like this because they're probably from the ~art world~ -- maybe they have experience working at an art gallery, or working as an art buyer for a rich collector, neither of which is in any way pedagogical. nobody thinks an exhibit of historical clothing should work like a clothing store but it's fine when it's art, i guess?

also the experience of going to an art museum is pretty user-hostile, i have to say. there's never enough benches, and if you want a backrest, fuck you. fuck you if going up stairs is painful; use our shitty elevator in the corner that we begrudgingly have for wheelchair accessibility, if you can find it. fuck you if you can't see very well, and need to be closer to the art. fuck you if you need to hydrate or eat food regularly; go to our stupid little overpriced cafeteria, and fuck you if we don't actually sell any food you can eat. (obviously you don't want someone accidentally spilling a smoothie on the art, but there's no reason you couldn't provide little Safe For Eating Rooms where people could just duck in and monch a protein bar, except that then you couldn't sell them a $30 salad at the cafe.) fuck you if you're overwhelmed by noise in echoing rooms with hard surfaces and a lot of people in them. fuck you if you are TOO SHORT and so our overhead illumination generates BRIGHT REFLECTIONS ON THE SHINY VARNISH. we're the art museum! we don't give a shit!!!

[raguiras]

Music Weeks at NRC!

A Twisted Wonderland fan event

For a big event, Night Raven College splits into four large music groups, each with their own unique style and aesthetic. Follow the beat of your heart and create something miraculous!

These are just some quick sketches, but I'm pretty happy with them!

SHARING IS SUPER APPRECIATED!!! ♡♡♡

DEADLINE: none :) // My other ongoing event (ship art trades)

ALL INFO BELOW THE CUT!

☆ LORE ☆

RAGU Entertainment, an up-and-rising music company focusing on young talents, has offered Night Raven College a sponsorship and cooperation! The student body is being split into four large music groups, each with their own aesthetic and style. For every song made by the students, Night Raven College is rewarded with both exposure and money in exchange for promoting the company through the students' music. Some of the teens chose their groups themselves, others were assigned to one; some are performers, others work behind the scenes. Additionally, everyone is turning the music weeks into an unofficial battle — who makes the best, most well-received songs?

The NRC faculty members supervise the groups themselves, and Allen, the Ramshackle student known for his lyrical talent, organization skills and passion for music, is in charge of supervising the event's quality while simultaneously also working as the co-leader of his own group.

☆ GROUP INTROS ☆

Hazard/Riff: hip hop/rock fusion // street style aesthetic // leader: Deuce (+ Allen)

PASTEL BXMB!: bubblegum/dance pop fusion // pastel aesthetic // leader: Kalim

GLOWCHAIN: k-pop/EDM fusion //sparkly, mature aesthetic // leader: Vil

lonely lantern: indie/soft pop fusion // light academia/cottagecore // leader: Silver

The descriptions are rather vague so there's more room for you to be creative.

You obviously aren't limited to these pictures and can expand on the aesthetic as long as it's still similar! Draw your OC in whatever clothes you consider to be fitting.

☆ HOW TO PARTICIPATE ☆

Pick one of the four groups for your OC. Which one suits them best?

Use said group's designated background (scroll down in this post to find them) and make a TWST event card for your OC!

Write some voicelines, such as gacha or homescreen ones.

OPTIONAL: Make a GROOVY version portraying your OC in a music video scene (may be posted separately).

OPTIONAL: Include a few fun doodles or outfit-related stuff.

Post it with the hashtag ragu music weeks, tag (@) me so I can see it, and link this post in it!

I will link your OC's card in the official lineup section of this post.

Writing a fic, drawing something other than a card, or just doing anything creative in general is also allowed! You can obviously mix multiple of these things, too.

I'm looking forward to ALL types of entries.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

☆ RULES ☆

No NSFW.

All types of NRC student OCs are allowed (except for fan children/another generation)! Faculty OCs are also allowed, but as supervisors instead of performers.

Your student OCs can be anything: a vocalist, rapper, dancer, instrumentalist, producer, lyricist, makeup artist, stage designer, director, choreographer, whatever! Just don't make them a co-leader without my approval.

You can obviously enter with multiple OCs!

Making cards of canon characters is technically allowed, but the event is supposed to focus on OCs. (I will draw Deuce's OFFICIAL card and maybe also some others.)

There are no canon ships (other than Deuce x Allen, which is only canon/extremely implied because Deuce's planned event lore is heavily dependent on his relationship with Allen), so please don't bash anyone for implying that their OC is dating/crushing on the same canon character as yours.

Don't make your OC beef with other people's OCs unless they've given you permission to do so.

Don't move a canon character into a different group. The official lineups can be found below.

☆ CARD BACKGROUNDS ☆

Hazard/Riff -> PASTEL BXMB! -> GLOWCHAIN -> lonely lantern

☆ OUR LINEUPS ☆

[Your OC will be added here with a link!]

Hazard/Riff (supervised by Vargas)

DEUCE, Allen, EPEL, ACE, LEONA, RUGGIE, FLOYD, Zian, Estella, Iyad, Estelle, Yuhua

PASTEL BXMB! (supervised by Sam)

KALIM, LILIA, IDIA, ORTHO, SEBEK, Carla, Bonbon, Astrid, Romeo, Fiend, Yumi, Yuya, Forsythea, Ben, Ruby, Victor (links will be added once I've regained them... they got removed 😭)

GLOWCHAIN (supervised by Crewel)

VIL, TREY, CATER, AZUL, JAMIL, MALLEUS, Ryuuni, Viviroe, Stephanie, Erin, Kyoi, Aurinelle

lonely lantern (supervised by Trein)

SILVER, JADE, RIDDLE, JACK, ROOK, Jinx, Cass, Yorrana, Illysabeth

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

☆ OUR LEADERS ☆

DEUCE: Having adapted music as an outlet for his delinquent tendencies from Allen and enjoying himself with this form of self-expression, Deuce is the born leader of Hazard/Riff. Not only have his vocals and especially his rap greatly improved by now, but he also writes lyrics together with Allen.

KALIM: Spread joy! Despite it being different from his usual aesthetics, Kalim immediately felt intrigued by the concept of PASTEL BXMB! and knew that this was the group he wanted to join. Through his naturally positive aura and ability to bring people together, he fits them incredibly well, and serves as a vocalist as well as the main dancer.

VIL: GLOWCHAIN has a mature, elegant sparkly aesthetic — it was a no-brainer that Vil would be its leader. The ambitious, talented artist makes sure that the group stands out and draws people in with his preexisting popularity and charisma. He is a vocalist as well as the visual of the group.

SILVER: Being calm, kind and well-liked, Silver is a fitting leader for lonely lanterns, an indie group welcoming to all kinds of personalities and skill levels. With his soothing vocals, good looks and somewhat odd aesthetic, he became the face of the group.

(ALLEN: Being the person who introduced music as a coping mechanism to Deuce, Allen is the co-leader of Hazard/Riff. Not only is he a talented producer and rapper as well as an exceptional lyricist, but he also has a blind understanding with Deuce, and the two spend tons of time together. When it comes to the group, Allen is perfectionistic but enthusiastic.)

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

☆ GROUP FOCUSES ☆

Hazard/Riff: Partial usage of instruments. Focuses on rap, rock vocals, and meaningful lyrics.

PASTEL BXMB!: No usage of instruments. Focuses on positivity, good vibes and dance.

GLOWCHAIN: No usage of instruments. Focuses on aesthetics, elegance and good vocals.

lonely lantern: Partial usage of instruments. Has no focus and is the most open-minded group.

☆ INSPIRATION PLAYLISTS ☆

Hazard/Riff — PASTEL BXMB! — GLOWCHAIN — lonely lantern

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

☆ OTHER EVENT NOTES ☆

You're very much allowed to include my designs, Allen (his profile is linked in the leader section), or the Deuce x Allen ship (they have duo magic too!) in your OC's card's groovy version. No need to ask for my permission!

Interactions between your OC and Allen are very much encouraged! Feel free to mention him in your OC's voicelines, too.

I'll make a card for Allen, and I'll also make Deuce's OFFICIAL card. If the mood strikes me, I'll possibly also draw official cards for some other canon characters.

I'll reblog every entry on my reblog blog and also link all entries in this post!

If this event ends up being well-received, I'll do a second part someday! So far, the idea is that it would be vkei/electro swing/weirdcore/Europop.

All resources were found on and downloaded from Pinterest, then edited. The event art was drawn by me.

If you have any questions, please leave a comment!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Birthday II

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: It's your first birthday

Morsa is living in the phone again.

She's a lot smaller when she lives in the phone than when she lives with you and Momma. You think that's kind of weird but there's some cake sitting in front of you so you don't dwell on it for too long.

Today is a special day apparently.

Today is the day that Morsa is supposed to be visiting. It's your birthday too but you're more focused on the first thing rather than the fact that you're getting older now.

Morsa is meant to be coming today but she isn't here yet and now she's stuck in the phone again.

"And here's the birthday girl," Momma says to her," She's about to enjoy her cake."

You look down at your slice of cake. You don't get given cake a lot, especially not fancy cake that has writing and pictures on the top. You don't really care about the stuff on top but you know the cake is fancy because it's there.

You grab a chunk of cake in your fist and raised it to your mouth.

It tastes really nice and you grab more.

"Birthday girl looks very happy," Morsa comments," Is that right? Are you enjoying your cake, princesse?"

You grunt as you shove cake into your mouth.

"She's very much enjoying it," Momma agrees," Birthday girl got spoiled a lot today."

"I'm glad. I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

A match late last evening had Magda unable to fly out yesterday night. She'd booked an early morning flight today, hoping that it meant she could still spend your first birthday with you without missing much.

But she'd gotten to the airport and found her plane delayed. There was no eta and it kept getting pushed back further and further to the point where Magda has to spend your birthday on the phone rather than in person.

The presents in her carry-on feel like weights as she watches you shovel more and more cake into your mouth until your plate is empty.

You're sitting up in your high chair with a beaming smile in a tiny Wolfsburg kit that Magda knows was given as a present to you. A big birthday badge is clipped to the jersey and a discarded birthday hat is sat on the tray next to your now empty cake plate.

It makes her heart ache thinking about how much of this she's missing.

It's just not the same seeing it all through a phone screen.

"My flight should be taking off in a few hours," She tells Pernille as you entertain yourself by picking up the birthday hat and shaking it," I'll probably get to yours around midnight."

She can't see Pernille with the camera on you but Magda's sure she's frowning.

"We can pick you up from the airport," She says," You don't need to get here on your own."

"It'll be too late for Princesse. She still needs sleep."

"Are you sure? I don't mind. She'll fall asleep in the car anyway."

"I'm sure," Magda insists," It's fine. I've got keys. I'll let myself in."

You drop the birthday hat and pout.

"Oh," Pernille chuckles," What's with the long face, princesse? Did you drop your hat?"

You kick your legs impatiently and point at it, whining. You look like you're about to whine more but Pernille places another slice of cake in front of you and suddenly you're distracted again.

You cram as much cake possible into your mouth, smearing your face with crumbs.

The cake is nice but you do feel a little bit cheated. Momma woke you up this morning saying that Morsa would be here to celebrate with you both but it's rapidly approaching bath and bedtime and she's nowhere to be seen.

That's a little mean of her.

It's even meaner of Momma to put you down in your crib and make you sleep before Morsa got here. They're both quite mean today even though it's your birthday and people should be nice to you when it's your birthday.

You wake up the next day ready to let your displeasure at being lied to known to Momma when she comes to grab you.

You don't get the chance to though because someone lifts you out of your crib with a smile and a soft voice.

"What's with the pouty face?" Morsa coos," Is being a one year old really that bad?"

For a moment, in your sleepy haze, you don't recognise her, a big pout and a grumpy look upon your features. Slowly, you blink awake fully and your pout morphs into a big happy smile.

"There she is," Morsa says," There's my happy baby! Look at you, my happy little one year old."

Your legs kick out as Morsa presses soft, ticklish kisses all over your face.

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday, princesse but I brought presents!"

You know that word. After yesterday, you've decided that you really like presents.

You hope Morsa's brought you some good ones.

You giggle.

"Yeah?" Morsa says," You like that? I've got lots of presents for you to open!"

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr. Gaiman, hope this ask finds you in good health, I really need your help.

I’m a law student and currently taking a course on Law and Literature, brilliant by the way. We were given the freedom to chose a theme of our preference on the way law is represented through literature, and I thought Good Omens was the perfect subject for me.

I was interested in focusing on a faulty, inflexible system, especially one heavily influenced (in this case entirely made up) by ‘canon law’ and the way it influences social spheres. The incoherent dichotomy of moral good and bad, the way they influence ethical right and wrong translated into law.

What I was interested in is whether the legal system of Good Omens is based on positive legislation, or more on a customary, spiritual one. The reason why the question arose is the specific scene of ‘The Clue’, where Aziraphale openly ‘acts against the will of God’, and is convinced he will be brought to hell by Crowley. This is interesting to me, because in response he just says that he wouldn’t tell on him, and that was that.

Does that scene mean that angel status is not based on a spiritual(literal sense) monitoring of the soul, but rather about obeying statute and the way it is institutionally evaluated? Is there a set legislation, would it be God’s will? For that reason, would it be ineffable?

I feel like the fact that God is supposed to be omniscient would kind of undermine that theory, but nonetheless I wonder. I suppose that what I’m pleadingly asking for is some insight on the legal frame you maybe pictured for the Up and the Down (do they follow the same general legislation? Is it about legal pluralism? Are they monitored? Is it about lack of sufficient number of managers or oversaturated personnel?).

Pretty please,

A very desperate uni student

P.S. I’m very sorry about the length, I’m not good at summarizing things that I really enjoy. Also sorry for possible writing errors, English is not my first language. (If you see this more than once, sorry. As we’ve already established, I’m a little desperate)

I love these questions. Honestly, I don't think the Good Omens Heaven/Hell system is codified enough for me answer, other than to say both sides are very big on rules and have codes and agreements (see Crowley bluffing in the bookshop) and whatever you put in your essay I promise I will never turn up and maintain that you were wrong.

[beenbaanbuun]

paranormal / opposites attract

san yawns as he walks into the dining room, shirt still untucked and tie hanging loosely over his shoulders. in his right hand is a mug of coffee and in his left a pile of mail. he takes a sip, passing the envelopes to an already immaculately dressed hongjoong. you hear seonghwa sigh as he pushes his chair back, standing gracefully before making his way over to the butler. the tired man doesn’t even question it when seonghwa spins him around to finish dressing him, although you do catch him send an irritated looking glance to the werewolf who can’t help but snicker at the scene before him. in yeosang’s eyes its fair game; he too had been dressed by seonghwa before breakfast, as had you.

you reach over to steal a strawberry from hongjoong’s plate whilst his attention is focused on the letters in hand. he barely spares you a passing glance as you pop the fruit into your mouth and bite down, simply rolling his eyes as he rips into an envelope.

“anything for me?” you say mid-chew, only to be cut off by a dramatic sigh from seonghwa.

“finish eating before you talk, lamb,” he scolds as his fingers work on finishing off san’s tie, “no one wants to see what’s inside your mouth.”

yeosang’s giggles grow a little louder before promptly shifting to silence when your foot comes into contact with his shin. you ignore the glare he shoots at you, giving him a kind smile in return, showing yourself as the picture of innocence. no doubt the second you’re excused from the table he’ll have you pinned to your favourite rug, growling at you from where his body hovers above yours. you can only hope your ghoul is preoccupied this time; the poor thing had grown rather worried the last time he witnessed yeosang scolding you.

you swallow the fruit before turning to face hongjoong once more. “well?” you press, “you never answered my question; is there anything for me?”

“is there ever?” hongjoong counters, tossing one letter onto the table before moving onto the next. you cant deny that he has a point, but you can still hope, can’t you? pretend that there are more than just a handful of people that would care for you enough to write. you sink back into your chair and tug your lip miserably between your teeth. the disappointment is small enough to be unreadable to anyone else, but not to your family. he sighs and presses the second letter down against the stained mahogany. “i’m sorry, dove; i didn’t mean it to offend.”

you nod to him, although he doesn’t look fully convinced. with a sigh, he pushes a letter towards you and smiles. “it’s addressed to the ‘kim family’ which you are a part of, are you not?” well, by law, no, but you’d never let either of them hear you say that. you can feel seonghwa’s eyes burning into you as you stare into hongjoong’s so you nod. seonghwa hums as hongjoong shoots you a toothy grin; they’re pleased with your compliance, and you can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh at that fact. “so technically speaking there is something for you, dove. go ahead, open it.”

you do as instructed, picking it up and letting your fingers rip open the wax seal that holds it shut. if you cared to look at it for more than a second, perhaps you would’ve noticed the familiar letters that made up the emblem on it, although perhaps not; JWY haven’t meant a thing to you in such a long time. the last time you saw them was when you were at school with a boy with the same initials. he was certainly something, always teasing you and poking fun. half the time you acted kim you hated him for it, but you have to admit that he left a pretty big hole in your heart when it came time for him to leave. besides the butler, the werewolf and the ghost, you guess he was the closest think you ever had to a friend.

you pull the letter from its sleeve, hearing a scoff to your left as you reveal the ruled paper with the torn edges that had clearly been pulled from a notebook of some kind. in your eyes it has charm, in your lovers it is undignified. still, you unfurl it and let your eyes scan over the page.

dear mr and mr kim,

a bad start already, you find yourself thinking, it isn’t addressed to you at all. you send a scornful look to hongjoong to which he responds with a frown. with a sigh, you go back to reading.

i have no doubt that with a property like yours you must receive an unyielding amount of enquiries from paranormal investigators such as myself. i won’t sugarcoat it and claim to be better than the rest—

blah blah blah……

the author of the letter is right; a never ending stream of similar letters show up on your doorstep, all of which end up shrivelled and burnt on the fire come evening. hongjoong and seonghwa like their privacy a little too much to let a complete stranger poke around in search of a ghost or two. you like your shy little ghost friend a little too much to force him to reveal himself to a stranger who’s bound to lack respect for the dead. you fold the top third of the letter back over, preparing to slide it back into its envelope.

but then you see it, a name scrawled in the same messy handwriting as the rest of the letter. it hits you like a ton of bricks, the pain of missing someone, and although you haven’t seen him in years, it’s just as strong as it was back then. you bite your bottom lip as you study the name, trying desperately to keep the tide of sadness at bay. the others could see it anyway.

finished with dressing san, seonghwa walks over to stand behind you. a warm hand finds your shoulder and rubs at you comfortingly over the thick wool of the cardigan you wear. he reads the last few lines of the letter aloud, “yours sincerely, jung wooyoung, paranormal investigator,” before humming contemplatively, “who is he?”

of course seonghwa knows it’s the name that has you feeling this way. what else could it be? it’s not like the words ‘paranormal investigator’ would set you on edge; your best friends are a werewolf and a ghost, for devils sake.

“someone i once knew,” you reply simply.

“an ex?” hongjoong joins in as his hand fumbles around his plate. his fingers soon wrap around another berry, and he holds it out for you. it makes you smile; how could it not? it’s small things like this that remind you why you love them so dearly.

“a friend,” you take the berry and pop it in your mouth. you chew and then swallow, exaggerating your actions for seonghwa’s sake who simply rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead. “he left a long time ago. makes sense he became a paranormal investigator; he always did have a lack of respect for privacy.”

there’s a chuckle from hongjoong and seonghwa as you recount the memory of the man from your past. it’s very rare that they hear positive things about those people so it’s nice to finally find someone you shared a connection with. a shared look between them confirmed what they both already knew; they wouldn’t be letting this ‘wooyoung’ person get away from you so easily this time.

“a friend?” the silent conversation is interrupted by a scoff from the seat beside hongjoong and all eyes find their way to yeosang. the ever present nonchalance on his expression had melted into a pout that looked a lot less fierce than he probably intended it to. “how good of a friend could he have been if he abandoned you?”

ah… jealousy; yeosang’s favourite emotion. it was present when he met san for the first time before realising that san worked too hard to be around you 24/7 like yeosang is. even if the butler wanted to steal you away, he couldn’t possibly spare enough hours in his day to do so. yeosang quite clearly has the upper hand in that situation. then there was the issue of your ghost, which of course had struck yeosang with a bad bout of jealousy once more. the ghost was rather pathetic though, with the constant stream of tears falling down his cheeks and the sound of fragility ever present in his voice. jealousy soon melted into pity; he was reluctant but yeosang soon accepted the bear into his heart.

“we were 14, yeosang,” you smile, “i don’t think he had a say in whether he moved away or not.”

the wolf rolls his eyes rather dramatically and you can’t help but scoff out a fond laugh.

“well, he’s back in town now,” seonghwa purrs as he leans his body over yours. chest to spine, cheek to cheek, he huddles in close. his skin is warm against yours as he cuddles you, and when he pulls his face away just enough to give him room to kiss the corner of your eye, you can’t help but grin. “how about we invite him over some time next week? i’m sure sannie wouldn’t mind putting on food for one more person.” the butler hums in tired agreement, his brain still too sleep riddled to figure out what he’s agreeing to.

you smile, happy in the knowledge that one happy little piece of your past has found its way back to you…

[neptuneiris]

brooklyn baby (01/?)

i've got my eye on you

pairing: rockstar!aemond × fem!reader

summary: you go with your cousins to a concert of the band "Dragon Dynasty" in Brooklyn, although you are not a fan of the band, the guitarist catches your attention.

word count: 7.7k

series masterlist • next part

hello beautiful people, here I am again with a new fic! I'm so happy and very excited to start this, I hope you like it a lot, that you enjoy it and I'm looking forward to your support and your comments that I always love to answer:) seriously you guys are amazing!

I still don't know how many chapters this story will have but it won't be more than 10, so wait for them. thank you very much for reading loves, enjoy!

warnings: none yet.

He is so majestic.

It's the first thing you think when the band finally comes out on stage and the concert starts, causing the screams of a bunch of girls all around you all over the place, all of them joined by your cousins, Baela and Rhaena.

You don't even understand how the three of you managed to make it to the front, just Baela and Rhaena acted in survival mode and started dragging you all over the place, making their way through the crowd to get face to face with all the band members.

And now… you're sure that by the time this is all over, tomorrow the two of them won't have a voice because of all the screaming.

At first you thought it would just be another band that doesn't have a big audience and that even though it's a band you don't know, you'd still have a good time. Although it's not like it was an option not to come, your cousins literally forced you to.

However, you're surprised to see that the place is full and all the girls are going crazy, as well as your cousins already made sure to tell you all about the band, tell you what you need to know and show you their favorite songs all the way here.

Basically the band, Dragon Dynasty, just debuted at the end of last year and is already getting some pretty good recognition.

And not only for the music, but also for the appearance… peculiar, of all the members.

When Rhaena showed you pictures of all of them, either as a group or individually, you understood the obsession of both of them. They all have platinum hair and look as if they had stepped out of the very palace of the Greek Gods, all absolutely attractive and very sexy.

And now seeing them in person, just a few feet away from you, is very different from seeing them in their social media photos.

The lead singer, Aegon Targaryen, is the one who introduces all the band members and starts the concert. And every time he approaches the edge of the stage, the girls again scream, as they scream at every verse he sings.

Then Rhaena records and focuses more on the bass player, Luke, with his short platinum hair and sitting on one of the speakers, focused on his notes. While Baela, of course, focuses on the drummer named Jace, Luke's older brother.

You understand from the great information your cousins gave you about all of them that they are all brothers, except that Jace and Luke are cousins of the vocalist Aegon, the piano guy and the guy who plays the electric guitar, the last three being brothers.

You focus for a moment on the piano guy, who from Baela's information, he is the same age as Jace. He definitely has an incredible resemblance to his brothers and from time to time he smiles towards the crowd, or rather towards the girls, who of course scream and go completely crazy with those simple gestures.

But when you look at him… the guitarist… you immediately can't take your eyes off him.

When your cousins showed you the pictures of all of them, it was precisely him who caught your attention the most of all, Aemond Targaryen.

At first you thought that his pictures with that aesthetic on him were just for the band, as a way to draw attention, however, Rhaena explained to you that he doesn't really have a left eye.

In some photos he has a black patch on and in some others he doesn't, so instead there is a shiny ocean blue stone, like a sapphire, inside where his eye should be. And when Rhaena explained to you that this is how he really lives, it definitely caught your attention a lot more.

But not only for that, also for his style of clothes, whether they were black or black with white, as well as his expressions in the photos did not really show much.

In all of them he didn't look at the camera, he was always looking away with a serene and serious look at the same time, to show himself in the same way every time he looked at the camera with his guitar at all times and his platinum hair long and completely loose.

And now to see him in person… he still looks the same way, serious and completely focused on his guitar, except for his brothers and cousins who focus on the audience from time to time, but not him.

And just like that, you can't take your eyes off of him, as if he were an invisible attractive force, delighted by the way he focuses on playing his notes, his fingers moving across the strings and his bare arms showing you some tattoos on his pale skin.

Everything about him… it's just alluring, sexy, mysterious and at the same time… dangerous, as if it's not right to involve you somehow with him, but being so striking and exciting at the same time.

"They're great, huh?"

Baela shouts to you over the music, with a huge excited smile, as you nod, really unable to stop focusing on him.

"Yes, they are."

Actually the band is really good, regardless of the looks of the members, because what looks.

The songs are like a mix of Arctic Monkeys, The Neighbourhood, Cigarettes After Sex and some Lana del Rey type instrumentals, they also have more danceable songs in the style of The 1975, but all with cool guitar and drum instrumentals.

You really like them, the style of their music is to your liking, but again… you can't help but focus on him.

The concert lasts a little more than an hour, where during some little intermissions, you saw how he was lighting a cigarette and playing the guitar at the same time, so it was more and more impossible to take your eyes off him, listening how sometimes the girls were shouting his name and he was greeting them back with a simple nod of his head, that being enough to drive them crazy.

And by the time everything ends, the vocalist Aegon starts to say goodbye to all the members with an euphoria and an energy that he gave off all over the audience so that they would react in the same way.

"I want to hear loud cheers for our drummer, Jace!"

Baela screams like crazy next to you, leaving you completely stunned, as well as more girls around you, while the mentioned stands up from his seat and waves goodbye to all of them, smiling.

"To our pianist, my little brother, Daeron!"

More shouts, as he also waves goodbye with his hands and with a charming and flirtatious smile to all the girls, moving closer to the stage, that making many girls come closer to the edge, wanting to touch him, as he laughs and takes several of them by the hand.

"To our bassist, Luke!"

Rhaena is now the one who leaves you stunned from your left ear, as more girls shout, while the boy smiles and looks a little shy, looking very cute, waving goodbye to all of them with his hand, then lowering his gaze with his cheeks slightly blushing.

You see how Aemond next to him gives him a friendly tap on his shoulder, watching him with a small half smile and looking somewhat amused by his behavior, that catching your attention a lot, since you didn't see him smile much towards his audience.

"Now for our guitarist, Aemond!"

You clap, but don't shout, seeing how immediately the place is filled with screams and more applause, realizing that even though he's not very expressive and doesn't react much to the audience, still the girls are completely crazy about him.

And you don't blame them, it's obvious that's because of how incredibly handsome and sexy that man is.

However, even so he doesn't react much again to his applause, only waves goodbye with one of his hands, really watching everyone expressionless, reading on his lips as he says "thank you" and then turns around and picks up a bottle of water.

You bite your lips, still watching him, when finally Aegon gives the closing.

"And at last your server, ladies!" says the vocalist in a flirtatious manner, again the place exploding in cheers, "That's been all Brooklyn, thank you so much for having us. See you next time, we love you guys!"

He does get closer to the audience, instantly the guards react to take care of him, while he takes everyone's hands and also takes some bracelets or necklaces that the girls give him, while he smiles and blows kisses.

The rest of the members start to leave the stage, while Aegon continues to take all the screams and those little gifts, really getting along very well with the audience, to finally after a few moments, say goodbye and leave the stage.

"Did you like them?"

Rhaena asks you as the three of them stand, waiting for all the other girls to leave the not so big but not so small club.

"Yes, their songs are fine," you nod to her.

"Their songs or the guitarist rather?" Baela asks you with a mischievous look.

"Oh come on," you give her a look of few friends, still nerves giving you away.

"I knew it!" squeals Rhaena with a huge smile, "I knew you weren't more asking about him than the others for nothing."

"And I don't blame you," adds Baela, "With those tattoos who wouldn't be crazy about him?"

"But you like Jace and he doesn't have tattoos."

"Aemond is fine, like exaggeratedly fine," she clarifies, "But I feel like I wouldn't stand a chance with him, plus he's too serious and too closed off for my taste," she explains.

"But Y/N did like him," Rhaena says, folding her arms, watching you with a huge smile.

You roll your eyes, amused.

"I think the same as Baela, I feel like I wouldn't be able to get close to him, he looks very… serious and distant," you say finally, " Beside it's not like I'm going to get the chance, he's just a guy in a band that I liked, just like I like Harry and Zayn from One Direction or Alex Turner from Arctic Monkeys."

"Oh he's so hot," Rhaena says with a little giggle.

"Who of the three of them?" asks Baela.

"The three of them."

You nod, more than agreeing with her.

"Anyway…" says Balea, "Turning our focus back to this band, maybe you can get close to the sexy guitarist tonight."

"Hm?" you say instantly not understanding, looking at her confused.

Then from her bag Baela pulls out what appear to be three rectangular sheets of paper, but when you look closely, they are actually three tickets to who knows what.

"These are tickets to the band's after party," she says excitedly.

At first you don't finish processing anything, watching her like a fool, when Rhaena squeals more than happy and in disbelief, instantly grabbing you both by the arm to rush out of the club in the direction of the party, while you're still processing and asking Baela how she got those tickets.

"Savings," she tells you simply and without much explanation.

Leaving the club is a bit difficult because of all the other girls who are also trying to leave, when the three of you are already arriving at the corresponding small pub where the after party will be, which in fact is right behind the club where the band gave the concert, so getting there doesn't take any time at all.

Once outside the pub, there are other girls waiting to get in, all excited and impatient, some of them have their own band t-shirts and posters for the band to sign. And at the entrance there are two huge men, asking for tickets and complying with security protocol to let them in.

"Help me take a picture with Luke when it's my turn, please," Rhaena asks you.

"Sure."

"Me too," Baela says instantly, "With Jace."

"Okay," you tell her amused.

Then finally all three of you hand the tickets to the seemingly bodyguard, only to enter without any trouble as you go through security protocols as well.

Rhaena shakes you by the arm excitedly, trying to control herself, as the three of you walk into the place, where you instantly recognize those platinum hairs spread all over the pub, already receiving the fans.

The place is considerably spacious, it doesn't feel as suffocating as at the concert and there's definitely more room to move around despite the fact that more girls are constantly coming in to meet the guys.

The bar is free, there is light rock music playing in the background and there are more bodyguards watching out.

You see how all the fans line up and wait their turn with each respective member, being the first to recognize the vocalist, Aegon, who more than smiling signs T-shirts, posters, hats and even phone cases. Also the pianist, Daeron, who takes selfies and also signs.

But when Rhaena identifies Luke, she quickly squeals and prepares to go to him with her T-shirt ready to be signed by him in hand, as does Baela, focusing on Jace.

You walk Rhaena over first, promising Baela to keep an eye out for her for when it's her turn with Jace, then start lining up, trying to calm your cousin's nerves as you sense she'll throw up at any moment or be unable to speak coherently to the bassist.

Then when Rhaena gets distracted on her phone, setting up the camera for pictures, you instantly think of the guitarist and start looking for him.

However, the only ones you see are Aegon, Daeron, Luke and Jace, with no fifth long platinum hair. Confused, you go back over the whole place, really him nowhere to be seen, realizing that there are girls specifically with posters of him, also just like you looking for him, all of them confused and disappointed.

And you don't understand, isn't he supposed to be here too?

You find it strange that out of all of them, it is him especially who doesn't make any appearance, while all the other members do attend to their fans, apparently not worried about the absence of their guitarist or anyone else actually, just the fans.

Inevitably you also start to get disappointed, but you immediately focus on Rhaena, as her turn will be soon and she insists that you help her calm down, giving her encouragement and support.

When the time comes.

The boy, Luke, is actually very sweet, instantly giving his full attention to Rhaena, who acts just as shy as he is, looking excited as the two gently embrace, while he asks her name and introduces himself to her as well.

He signs her T-shirt, also her phone case, all while they both talk, to then move on to the selfie and finally the photo, while you watch with a small smile as the boy's cheeks blush and Rhaena is more than excited and nervous at the same time, hugging him and smiling for the photo.

"This is my cousin, by the way, Y/N," Rhaena shyly introduces you to him as they both separate.

"Oh, hi Y/N, I'm Luke," the boy says to you with a charming smile, not being able to cause you more tenderness, "Thanks for coming."

"Hi," you say smiling, "Nice to meet you, Luke."

You take advantage of the moment and also take a selfie with him and Rhaena, where the three of you come out all smiles, without his cheeks stop blushing, and then pass the next fan.

Rhaena can't stop smiling, again shaking your arm excitedly and on the verge of collapsing with happiness, as she quickly goes through the photos, announcing that she will upload them to her Instagram stories this instant.

You laugh and then she heads off to line up to meet Daeron now, while you now head to Baela.

Unlike with Rhaena and Luke, you can clearly identify your cousin's flirting methods and surprisingly Jace reacts completely to her, looking just as flirty as she does, talking in her ear and both of them very close to each other.

You take their picture and get excited for your cousin, seeing how both of them even after the picture talk to each other, still very close, with that clear interest in the body behavior of both of them, but more of him towards her.

And you don't blame him either, no doubt your cousins are very beautiful, you always tell them every day and they tell you too.

At the end Baela also introduces you with Jace, he also looking very nice and friendly like his little brother, just not as cute, but very sexy.

Then after finishing with Jace, Baela turns to Rhaena, getting her in line to meet Daeron where both of them will now help each other with the pictures, so you head to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools, observing everything and taking the opportunity to order a free drink.

"Can I have a gin and tonic, please?" you ask the bar tender.

"Of course," the man says politely.

While he prepares your drink, you take the opportunity to check your social media, entertaining yourself for a moment and also looking at the time, realizing that it's almost midnight, so you'll probably be home by two in the morning.

You let out a long breath and at that moment the bar tender hands you the gin and tonic, you thank him and start drinking, relaxing and keeping your eye on your cousins.

When at that moment you remember him again, Aemond, so hopefully you look around the place again, looking for him, but you are surprised to see that there is still no sign of him, really confusing you.

The girls who were also looking for him before, line up to take pictures with Aegon, but like you, they also seem to be looking for him, without success.

It continues to seem weird to you and you feel really disappointed, just realizing in that instant how terribly disappointed you are, as if you've been a fan of his for months, when you've only just met him tonight, telling yourself what the hell is wrong with you.

So time passes, you watch as your cousins after meeting Daeron, head to Aegon, nothing really being quick as they take their time with each fan, until you finish your gin and tonic, not ordering anything else as you must be driving and stand at the bar, waiting.

It's until a few minutes later that you decide to go to the restroom, asking the bar tender where they are and he points you to a hallway at the back, instantly thanking him and heading that way.

You see how in the hallway there are four doors and you head to the two at the back, having the signs for the women's restroom and men's restroom, but when you try to open the door, it doesn't open, being occupied, realizing that it's only one restroom instead of several.

You let out a long breath, as this is common in small pubs, having to wait in the hallway, leaning against the wall for the girl inside to come out.

Again you distract yourself with your phone, holding back the urge to pee, trying not to get desperate, glancing from time to time through the hallway entrance at all the girls out there, being able to see your cousins from this distance, not long before it's their turn to meet Aegon.

You bite your lips and continue to wait, when as you are leaning between the wall and under the frame of one of the other doors that you have no idea where they go, it suddenly opens and you almost lose your balance, stabilizing yourself instantly and moving away, watching the person with some surprise and shame.

When the nerves and the surprise invade you completely, seeing that it is him, the guitarist.

He really looks at you without any expression on his face, while you place the appropriate distance between the two of you in this small hallway, still looking at him surprised and like an idiot, instantly telling yourself off to act normal, still watching him carefully.

And how could you not? The man is absolutely beautiful.

Compared to the concert, you have him face to face, his features being more than perfectly visible, admiring the shape of his lips and nose, as if it had been carefully carved, then nervously observing his intense blue eye and his sapphire eye, looking amazing and beautiful to you.

Then you quickly observe his various tattoos on both arms, recognizing a musical note, tree branches, birds, a moon and other figures you don't instantly identify, but you notice perfectly how he has a dragon on his shoulder.

Again you look him in the eye, getting instantly nervous because he is already watching you intensely, looking away from him because of the same nerves, having no idea how to really react since he doesn't move, neither do you and you feel unable to speak, feeling a lump in your throat.

He is simply too handsome and too sexy.

You think in the midst of all your nervousness, when the two of you are simply there, not far away but not too close either, suddenly feeling the hallway too small and feeling out of nowhere suffocated, not understanding what's wrong with you.

"Are there many people out there?"

He asks you suddenly, definitely not expecting that, as he stands still in the doorway, watching you, while you barely process the sound of his voice, watching him like an idiot for a moment.

React!

Your mind reprimands you, really not wanting to embarrass yourself with him, much less when he's just asked you something.

You clear your throat and control yourself, to look back towards the center of the pub, where there are indeed a lot of girls and there are many especially who want to see him. You bite your lips and return your nervous, attentive gaze to him, realizing that he hasn't even come out into the hallway, keeping himself hidden in that room.

"Yes," you finally say to him, trying to sound like a normal person, not letting your nerves completely get the better of you.

He lets out a long breath, then averts his gaze from yours and you watch as he carefully peeks out of the doorframe, this catching your attention, as he inspects everything and honestly looks a little irritated, which you don't understand why.

And at that moment you don't know if you should, considering he still wants to keep himself hidden, but also Baela's voice tells you: bitch, take advantage and talk to him, you literally have him right in front of you!

Yes, that's something she would tell you if she saw you now.

"You're not a fan of being among so many people?"

You ask him softly, overcoming your nerves, but again you feel your heart leap in your chest as he looks at you again.

"Not much," he answers you.

And at that moment, you only admire more of his handsome features he offers you as you stand face to face with his profile, actually making you very nervous. And his answer actually makes sense to you.

He on stage is very calm and quiet, so now having to be among all the fans, it really doesn't seem to be his strongest suit.

"Still a lot of girls are looking forward to seeing you," you tell him softly, "They all look very excited."

You see how he frowns a bit, not saying anything back to you, which alerts you a bit since you really don't want to ruin this opportunity by talking to him, even though it seems you already have, but… what did you say wrong?

He continues to look at you like that, so intensely, when then you see perfectly how he looks you up and down, definitely making you more nervous than before, and then you see how he puts his hands in his front pockets and leans on the door frame casually.

The image couldn't have infarcted you more, as he does everything in a calculated manner, movements so simple that they already completely steal your breath away, only for him to tilt his head and continue watching you with that intensity, but now also curious.

"And you don't?"

He asks you with that soft but so manly voice that makes you part your lips, completely weakening your legs, watching him for a moment without understanding while he watches you expectantly, but still with that sexy demeanor.

"You weren't expecting to see me?"

Oh my God.

You think, unable to answer him, your voice right now not working, much less when he continues with his burning gaze in your direction, now having no idea how to behave.

However, you know you must be behaving like a fool in his eye, so you force yourself to answer him but truthfully.

"Actually," you start to say, trying to control your nerves, "I'm waiting for the person in the restroom to come out," you point your gaze to the door, to again watch him.

Then he too watches the restroom door for a moment, to again focus on you, watching perfectly as he presses his lips together in a soft, thin line and then you see what appears to be a small, barely visible grin appear.

And even though you didn't see him smile much during the concert, nor does he do it in his band's promotional photos, now that you see him do it and only meters away from you, the man couldn't look more beautiful to you.

"Hm," is all he says, turning back to watching you like that, his gaze completely attentive and burning, all his attention on you.

Holy shit.

That's all you can think, watching him without taking your eyes off him, just as he does with you, again feeling the space suddenly very small and the air hot.

When suddenly, you see perfectly well how he opens his mouth to say something, taking a step forward, calling your full attention, but at the moment he does that, a girl at the beginning of the hallway shouts his name at the sight of him.

And that's when chaos breaks out.

The girl quickly heads towards him, excited, instantly being followed by a bunch of other girls, all holding caps and t-shirts for him to sign, wasting no time and completely breaking the spell between the two of you.

You watch Aemond again and he's already watching you, but instantly he starts giving attention to all the girls, being surrounded by all of them, to which you can't help but feel disappointed because the moment is over, since... you don't know what the fuck was going on a few seconds ago with him but you were enjoying it.

When at that moment the door to the women's restroom finally opens, a girl coming out of it but now being difficult to get back to the center of the pub because of Aemond and all his girls obstructing the way.

You head for the restroom, suddenly feeling that same attentive and burning gaze on your back again for a few seconds as you close the door behind you. You take all the time in the world, trying to calm your heart rate and trying to stop feeling your hot skin, processing what happened out there with him, really taking a considerable amount of time.

You realize you need Baela's advice, thinking about texting her right now and getting her to give you techniques so you don't get nervous, but you doubt she'll text back if she's still getting to know the rest of the members of the band.

However, you don't know if you should ask Aemond for a picture or not, not being very sure about it, but you know that if you don't ask him for a picture or an autograph, you will regret it tomorrow.

You let out a sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror and telling yourself that you have to control, that you shouldn't act like a fool and that you should behave as normal as possible, not letting your nerves get the better of you.

In the end you don't text anyone, you gather your courage and finally come out of the restroom.

The first thing you see is how Aemond is still there, only now with few girls, in fact finishing signing an autograph for them, to which you watch him carefully and attentively, again having no idea whether to go back to the center of the pub to find your cousins and get their advice before going back to him or ask for his autograph here, taking advantage of it.

But you don't even have anything he can sign for you, except your phone case.

However, the time to think and decide is over when the girls take a picture with him and then start to walk away, all of them looking at him with that excited gaze and of complete desire, while Aemond looks at them one last time and... he watches you again.

And there you have your nerves again, but you don't let them get the better of you, lowering your gaze for a moment, thinking quickly about what to say to him, feeling again that tension between the two of you now that you are alone again in this small hallway.

And at this, Aemond decides to act fast, considering the after party isn't over yet.

"Do you want me to sign something for you?"

He asks you while directing all his attention towards you, with those fucking movements he makes that aren't that big of a deal but completely steal your breath, standing completely still and watching him carefully.

Talk, act, react!

Your fed up and annoyed mind tells you, also Baela's voice if she saw you at this moment, so that's what you do, however, again you respond with the truth and with shame.

"Yes, I'd love to," you look at him nervous, "But I don't really have anything for you to sign."

"You bought tickets to our after party and you didn't bring anything the band can sign for you?"

Oh God.

You think on the verge of collapsing in embarrassment, as he again looks at you between slightly confused and curious.

"Well, I didn't know my cousin had bought tickets to meet you. It was actually her and my other cousin who brought me to the concert," you explain, trying not to show how really nervous you are, as he tilts his head in your direction.

"So you're not a fan," he assumes and you're so embarrassed that he's right.

"But... you were still amazing tonight," you tell him instantly, being terribly honest, "I liked your music and will definitely listen to it often."

He nods slowly in your direction, apparently now understanding you, watching you even with that curiosity and again that small, barely visible grin appearing on his lips, watching him run you from head to toe, not being able to make you any more nervous than you already are.

"Hm," he says in nod, "That explains why you didn't jump on me the second I opened the door."

You let out a nervous little laugh, looking away from him for a second.

"Disappointed?" you ask him a bit amused.

"Just a little."

You smile softly in his direction, not showing your teeth, as he continues to make you nervous and make you feel as if the space between you is very short and the air is hot as he continues to watch you like that, as if inspecting you and as if he wants to see right through you.

However, you know that the moment can be broken at any moment if more girls come looking for him, so you don't get your hopes up too high. When suddenly he averts his gaze and points you to the door through which he left a few moments ago.

"It's our break room," he tells you, "There are new t-shirts and posters in there, if you want I can sign one of them and give it to you."

Oh my...

You feel the excitement run through you, definitely not expecting that, starting to feel your heart rate accelerate, but you instantly get yourself under control and tell yourself that no way are you going to pass up the opportunity.

"Well, if it's no problem," you nod to him.

He starts backing away, as he heads for the door.

"Come."

And you don't hesitate to follow him.

He opens the door for you, watching you intently and again with that intensity, to which you again feel like your heart will probably jump out of your chest, from excitement and also from nerves, to finally enter the room.

You don't even know why but a shiver runs through your whole body, bristling your skin, as he closes the door behind you and walks past you, his arm gently brushing yours, feeling for an instant his burning skin.

He heads towards a table, while you watch him attentively and take a look at the room, not big but not small either, seeing how there are numerous backpacks, sound equipment, tables, chairs, a couch and also a table with snacks and bottles of water.

There are also the guitar cases, identifying his guitar on the couch, where he was probably sitting playing before, hiding from everyone out there. The noise here is less, you hear more the background music than voices, actually this space being very calm.

"What do you prefer?"

You suddenly hear him say to you, instantly causing you to stop surveying the room and focus on him, who is already watching you intently, pointing out the caps, t-shirts or posters on the table.

"Or do you want all three?" he observes you with that grin.

Focus, Y/N. You can do it.

You tell yourself, not wanting him to affect you any more than he's already affecting you or you'll ruin this moment by letting yourself get carried away by nerves, which is just what you don't want.

So you try not to focus too much on his mannerisms when he's talking to you.

"The shirt is fine," you point out to him.

You're not a big fan of the caps and posters you like but on this occasion... you're going more for the T-shirt.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

You choose the T-shirt in your size while he picks up a pen, then you hand it to him and he starts writing.

"What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeats slowly as he writes it down.

This sends a wave of excitement and nerves throughout your body because of the way he has said it, concentrating on his writing, while you watch him intently, still finding the shape of his face and also his hair majestic, looking more majestic having him right in front of you.

You really don't understand what's wrong with him but God... he's really beautiful.

"So you're not a fan hm?"

He says to you as he finishes signing and hands you the shirt, instantly placing a nervous little smile, taking it.

"Actually no. My cousins brought me, they were both very excited and needed someone to drive."

At this he again looks interested and turns around to lean against the edge of the table casually, crossing his arms, watching you, while you stand next to him and almost have to lift your whole head up to him so you can look him in the eye as you talk.

"You don't live in Brooklyn?"

You shake your head.

"Manhattan."

He frowns slightly.

"Manhattan?"

He repeats and you nod, watching him curiously for a moment as you watch him think in silence for a few seconds, then again watching you curious and confused at the same time.

"And why your cousins didn't buy tickets for the concert we're giving there next Friday?"

"Oh," you go blank for a moment, but react instantly, remembering, "Well, they did want to buy tickets, but they had credit card problems and by the time they fixed it, all the tickets were sold out and they bought the Brooklyn ones," you explain.

He doesn't say anything else to you for a few seconds, watching you intently, as he has been watching you all along, so intently that you feel your legs go weak, to which you nervously avert your gaze from him and look at the T-shirt in your hands, seeing his autograph.

And all you can think about is how crazy Baela and Rhaena will go when you tell them this.

"Pick something for your cousins," he says suddenly, making you look at him again, "I'll sign it too."

"Oh, sure, thanks."

You tell him with a nervous little smile to start choosing, beginning to believe that you'll never really stop feeling nervous in his presence, much less if you're both alone in this room.

For Rhaena you choose a poster for her, as she's a big fan of having lots of them of her favorite artists and sticking them all over her room, while for Baela you also choose a t-shirt.

You notice how Aemond walks away for a moment as you look for Baela's size, then return and begin to sign that for your cousins as well, again watching or rather subtly admiring his face of concentration as he begins to write.

"Here," he gives you everything, finishing.

"Thank you very much,"

You tell him sincerely, as he straightens up completely again, setting the pen down on the table and leaning back against the edge of it.

"You're welcome," he nods in your direction.

You look away, having no idea how to say goodbye to him, you don't even want the moment to end even though his gaze on you makes you feel so nervous, but for obvious reasons, your cousins must already be looking for you and you know he must be out here to attend to more of his fans.

"Hum... then I'll see you... out there, I guess," you smile at him, starting to walk away, "This was very kind of you."

"Wait."

He says to you suddenly, stopping your step, standing in front of him, as you watch him take a few more steps towards you, completely alerting you, but seeing him take a hand to the back of his pants, watching as he takes something from his pocket, confusing you but completely getting your attention.

Then his eye watches you back, his gaze so intense and so penetrating, as you watch him with your lips parted, this suddenly closeness suffocating you too much, not helping anything that the two of you are here alone.

However, he places his hand between the two of you, handing you something and when you look at it, confusion overtakes you further, seeing that they are tickets to his concert as they have the words 'Dragon Dynasty" printed in large letters on them.

"These are tickets for the concert in Manhattan, next Friday," he says softly, still hand them to you.

And even after explaining, you still don't finish processing anything, as he continues waiting for you to take them, while you continue to stand still and watch him like an idiot, slowly beginning to understand.

"B-but...

"Take them, Y/N," he says again, softly, watching you expectantly.

Take them? Just like that? For free?

You immediately deny, staring at him in confusion.

"No, but... I-I...wait, you...

"It's fine," she assures you, interrupting you.

"But you can't do this or can you?" you ask him totally bewildered and surprised, not believing it.

"Of course I can, in fact I'm doing it now," he tells you as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

But you continue to watch him confused, not understanding why he is doing this with you especially, again feeling the nerves invade you and the hot air hit you mercilessly, not being able to think straight.

"W-what? But...

"What is it?" he asks taking a step closer to you, stopping your heart for a second, "Don't you want to see me again?"

My God...

No. You can't do it anymore. It's right there when you lose it completely.

The way he has asked you, watching you completely attentively and with that barely visible grin, his body starting to invade your personal space, slowly leaning towards you, the space between you both ceasing to exist and all of him embracing you completely.

That delicious manly cologne hits your nostrils, also the slight smell of cigarette, everything about him being so alluring, so sexy, so mysterious and dangerous somehow.

And he does it all in such a calculating way... he doesn't even do it all that fast, he does it all slow, just the way he wants to catch you, while you slowly start to let yourself be carried away by him as well.

With your heart beating too fast, you look at the tickets in his hand and slowly raise your eyes to look at him, when he is already looking at you and just like that.

Don't you want to see me again?

His question repeats in your mind, at that moment no longer taking anything else into account. Because he is clearly flirting with you, and why do you not do the same?

"Do you want to see me again?"

You ask him in your soft, low voice, to which he only leans a little closer to you, that grin returning.

"Isn't it obvious?"

He tells you in the same way, his voice soft, low and completely calculating, his answer surprising and thrilling you, watching perfectly as he watches between your eyes and your lips, his eye completely full of desire, while you do the same.

You wonder what it will feel like to kiss him, how he will reciprocate, if soft or hard and if you will also feel his hands on your body, caressing you.

The atmosphere feels tense somehow, as you both start to invade each other's personal space, at the same time as your hand takes the tickets, all hot air and suddenly feeling that need to touch him, to kiss him, to feel him closer to you.

However, just as the small distance between the two of you starts to disappear, with all his delicious scent and his whole alluring body enveloping you completely, just at that damn moment the door suddenly opens.

You jump all the way back, scared and surprised, as the two of you stare at the door and Aegon is the responsible for the interruption.

"Dude, why are you still here? Cole's going to kill you if you don't come out this instant, you know? It's crazy out there, there's girls crying, they want to see you and you-oh....

He stops talking suddenly, barely in that instant realizing your presence as well even though you're standing next to Aemond, feeling embarrassment run through all your body, as he realizes what was probably going on here when he watches you both with his lips parted, so you lower your gaze in shame and bite your lips.

"My bad, sorry," he says and then slowly places a mischievous smile, now watching you and Aemond continuously, "I interrupted something, didn't I?"

You listen as Aemond clears his throat, no longer feeling the closeness of his body against yours, while you feel the embarrassment more.

"No," he tells him in a more serious voice and nothing compared to how he was speaking to you before.

"Oh," Aegon says again and you pluck up the courage to finally get out of here.

"Thank you," you say to Aemond without even looking at him, hurrying out of the room.

With all the things he signed in your hands and also the tickets, you don't even look at Aegon when you pass by his side, feeling so embarrassed and starting to feel your cheeks very hot, not bearing to be in his presences anymore.

And you don't even look back, you just run away, not being able to believe that you were about to make out with him, the sexy guitarist, Aemond.

You immediately look around like crazy for your cousins, seeing that Baela is taking a picture of Rhaena with Jace, so you quickly head towards them, acting normal, waiting for them to finish and by the time they do, you hand them the t-shirt and the poster.

"Where were you?" asks Baela confused.

"In the restroom and I got this for you," you say without much detail, the memory of Aemond's beautiful face near you still so fresh.

"Why are you so red?" asks you now Rhaena confused.

"I drank a gin and tonic," you lie, acting totally unconcerned with Aemond's lips about to touch yours still present .

"Did you talk to the sexy guitarist?" asks you Baela excited.

"Yes," you say acting unconcerned.

"And?"

"Nothing," you say with a shrug and she looks at you disappointed.

If only she knew.

But nothing ends there. Both of them now want a picture with Aemond even though they already have each his autograph, so you decide to wait again at the bar and they follow you, waiting for him to show up, you for anything in the world wanting to be near him again with your cousins around.

When then Aemond finally comes out of that hallway, appearing in the center of the pub with Aegon by his side, instantly you and him exchanging glances without even expecting it at all. And even with the embarrassment, you quickly avert your gaze from him, as the both begin to be surrounded by more girls, among them your cousins.

You're not sure exactly how much time passes, until finally Baela and Rhaena are satisfied and the three of you leave the pub, with half an hour left before the after party is over, but it's too late now and you have to drive.

However, before the three of you get in the car, you pull out the tickets that Aemond gave you for free and extend them to them.

"These are tickets for the concert in Manhattan, Aemond gave them to me," you say and then head for the driver's seat door, unlocking the doors.

And then all you hear as you start to leave your cousins behind are their screams.

During the whole ride, neither of them leave you alone, wanting to know exactly in detail what happened with the guitarist, Baela more than anything else feeling offended that you lied to her when she asked you if anything happened with him.

But when you tell them about everything and also about how the two of them almost kissed, she doesn't feel upset anymore and screams excitedly together with Rhaena, both surprised and unable to believe it, also unable to believe about the free tickets.

Luckily the questions don't last for the whole ride, so you also have time to think about him, Aemond, everything that happened with him and pretty much everything about him not leaving your thoughts alone as you drive from Brooklyn to Manhattan.

[kierewrites]

What Would Karma Do... when you support him at his baseball game?

navi - masterlist

Karma Akabane x Reader

Mood Song: dare

Summary: Remember the beloved Assassination Classroom anime? This is pretty much that, except you enter the picture of Karma's chaotic school year. Let's see just how compatible the two of you are.

Warnings: mild cursing, just some chaotic fluff

Ever since the kidnapping incident, things have been ironically great.

It was ironic because to any regular person, said things should’ve been horrible. You had a new classmate that was a robot, Korosensei's apparent brother came and tried to kill him, and Professor Jelavic's old teacher came to try and show you all a lesson.

But somehow amongst the chaos you found harmony. Honestly you were surprised with the way you were handling things. Between getting kidnapped and the rest of the unusual events, it’s safe to say you didn’t see this much action back at your prestigious school from your old country.

Regardless, you couldn't help but feel this newfound comfort was thanks to your lovable (and slightly chaotic) red headed boyfriend, Karma Akabane.

Ever since you had almost been kidnapped your relationship with him grew stronger. He began to open up new sides of himself with you, just as you did with him. For once everything seemed to be going great. That is, until the A Class came back into the picture.

"Well, that was a beating." Nakamura sighed as the females of your class trudged to the baseball fields.

Thanks to your training, you didn't feel too sore from the rough loss you just endured, but that didn't help your deflated ego.

Back at home you were great at many sports, winning was just something you were accustomed to at this point. But unfortunately you had to play the one sport you despised: basketball.

Each of the classes had a tournament of different sports, the boys were currently playing baseball while the girls just finished their basketball tournament. You would've killed to play baseball instead, but beggars can't be choosers. The A Class had olympian-like players anyways, so at least the outcome wasn’t that big of a shock.

"For real, I feel like all my fingers are broken." You whined with a pout of your lip as you wiggled your sore fingers around to help the aching feeling.

"No worries, there's always next time, yeah?" Kataoka said with a soft smile, her words making the group of defeated players feel just a bit better.

Kayano whimpered as she looked down solemnly, "It was my fault. My suckage dragged the whole team down." 

"Oh come on don't be like that." You sighed as you wrapped an arm around her.

"Yeah Y/n is right, we all sucked"

Kayano let out an annoyed growl as she crossed her arms, claiming her lack of skill was due to the rather… feminine build of the Class A players. At this you couldn’t help but snort, watching as your classmates argued over whether that truly mattered.

You knew your own chest was a fair size so you decided not to butt in for the sake of the argument. Luckily for all of you, the large fence of the baseball field came into view about halfway through the conversation, a smile curling onto your lips.

The feeling of an elbow jabbing your side caused you to choke a bit as you looked over to see Nakamura smirking at you.

"Excited to see your boyfriend~" Nakamura playfully sang, the girls all squealing at the sight of your cheeks glowing a bright pink tint.

Laughing bashfully you fiddled with your fingers as you grinned over to her, "Maybe~."

"I still find it ironic you and Karma became a pair, he gives me the heebeejeebees." Kurahashi said with a shiver, a few of the girls nodding in agreement at that.

All you could do was really shrug. You knew where they were coming from, but you just saw things differently with the chaotic brute.

"Anyways, let's hope the boys are doing better than we did." Hayami said, all your gazes now focusing on the field where you watched your fellow classmates in uniform.

-

Based on the sight of things, the game didn't seem to be going well. Or even fair for that matter.

Class A's team was mere steps away from your class' batter. It was obvious he wouldn't be able to swing without the ball being caught immediately.

The sight made your brows knit together in frustration, your fingers clinging to the thin metal bars of the fence as your classmates gathered close by. Karasuma was already there watching intently, his expression understandably grim.

"Looks like the boys were doing better than we did," Nakamura said with a sigh as she pointed out the scoreboard with your class in the lead, "But it looks like they're suffering the consequences now with Mr. Stick-Up-His-Butt."

Your eyes moved from the scoreboard to the very principal himself who stood from the dugout, a devious intent in his eyes.

The sight alone made you shiver. Just like his son, something just seemed very off about that man.

Your thoughts came to a halt when the sound of a familiar tongue clicking filled your ears. Tilting your head to the side, your eyes widened to see a familiar redhead leaning against the gate entrance to the field.

"Tsk tsk tsk, I'm disappointed your eyes weren't on me first angel."

Smiling wide, you jogged over to your boyfriend and jumped into his awaiting arms.

"Sorry Karma I got distracted, I missed you today." You mumbled with a smile as you stood on your toes just to peck at his lips.

Karma simply chuckled as he returned the peck before glancing back to the field with a raised eyebrow, "I missed you too Y/n, but mind me asking who distracted you first?"

Karma's jealousy never failed to peek out from his nonchalant facade, his words making you roll your eyes at him playfully before you glanced back at the field to search for your prior distraction.

"Principal Asano just caught my eye... I don't know what it is but something about him makes me feel uneasy everytime I see him.”

The slight shiver of your body didn't go unnoticed by Karma, his arm squeezing your waist gently leading you to look up to his confident golden hues.

"What the old man? Don't let him get to you, it's just a facade." Karma said with a grin as he shifted your hips so that you were facing him once again, "Just you wait, once we beat these Class A jerk-offs you'll get to see the principal lose his cool, it'll be a dream come true."

Giggling at Karma’s all too excited plan, you snaked your arms up into his red locks giving them a ruffle while playfully raising a brow.

"Be nice my prince of chaos, we don't wanna hurt their egos too much."

Karma let out a genuine laugh at that, smooshing his lips up against your cheek before backing towards the gate entrance, "Whatever you say, princess."

His return of the mocking nickname made you roll your eyes, but not before blowing him a kiss as he jogged back to his classmates. This game was sure to be interesting.

-

"We're at the top of the second inning and the invincible defense is still the order of the day!" The sports newscaster exclaimed over the radio.

"Batter number eight, left-fielder Akabane."

Your eyes lit up as you saw your boyfriend walk up to the base, you were about to shout his name but paused in your decisions when you noticed the redhead looking deep in thought.

Blinking at this, you glanced to the field and noticed the rest of the team just a few footsteps away from Karma as some sort of defense. Though you were no expert in baseball, you knew there's no way that was allowed.

"Move it kid. Get your tail in the batters box." The referee shouted, he sounded a bit agitated.

Karma simply glanced towards your principal, his eyes narrowed in focus causing you to raise a brow.

"Never pegged you as the type to play dirty, sir." Karma spoke, venom on his tongue as the principal simply smiled at the boy.

Now it was all making sense, the principal was Class A's new fill in coach of sorts. What happened to their old one?

"If the rules haven't changed, this little gambit ain't legal. They're guarding the infield, umpire should've called it by now." Karma hissed, his head glancing back at the A Class spectators with a grin, "Oh come on, anyone smell a rat or is it just me?"

At this your classmates seemed to snort. Though Karma was being his usual snarky self, everyone knew he was right. This was a risky call for the principal; was he really that scared of your class winning? This rivalry the classes had amongst each other must have been much more personal than you thought.

"Oh, never mind!" Karma exclaimed with a sly smirk as he pointed towards the A Class spectators, "You guys are morons, baseball is like a foreign language to ya!"

At that final comment there was a mix of laughter and yelling. You couldn't help but giggle as he stood amongst the angry students with his arms out, as if he was welcoming the angry cries. 

His golden eyes landed on you for a quick second, he flashed a smile and winked before turning back to bat for his team. This trouble maker was going to start a riot and his only response was sticking his tongue out.

Sure enough the rest of the game went as expected. The A Class was playing dirty, from getting too close to the players to even bunting the ball making it nearly impossible for the E Class to have any sort of defense.

Your poor classmates looked exhausted and drained, you felt horrible for them. This game was getting dragged out in the blazing heat all because A Class couldn't take a loss.

Just as it was Class E's turn to play defense, Karma ran to the group with what looked like an idea in mind. You knew he had been talking to Korosensei, maybe it was a new plan for them to win?

Sure enough as your classmates broke away from their huddle the plan was revealed, but you weren't very fond of it.

Karma and Isogai moved not even three feet away from the batter that was up. Karma's golden eyes glared towards the principal as you heard him speak up.

"Choking up the infield isn't helping the batter's concentration, but what are you gonna do? Now if the umpire had called you on earlier there'd be a precedent for telling us to back off." Karma explained as a matter of factly, his eyes narrowing as he grinned to the principal, "You're cool with this, right chief?"

Suddenly your heart began to race a bit faster. There's no way the principal would okay this right? It was just a silly baseball game, it wouldn't even hurt your school's reputation.

Unfortunately the principal didn't seem to care as he simply smiled and nodded his head.

"Proceed as you will, a true athlete does not falter before such trickery."

Your eyes widened as Karma's grin turned into a wicked smirk at his words.

"Wow, duly noted." Karma cooed before him and Isogai walked even closer to the batter until they were a mere footstep away, "We'll hold you to that sir."

Moving closer to the fence you attempted to call out Karma's name until you felt a hand on your shoulder. Glancing up you noticed it was Karasuma's hand but he kept his eyes glued to the field.

"You have no reason to worry Y/n, the boys know what they're doing and they're following the octopus' order."

Biting your lip you let out a shaky sigh and nodded before glancing back to the field.

Even the batter seemed to be a bit shaken up, but the principal simply said to ignore them. His words nearly made your head explode, your foot nervously tapping against the messy clay of the field.

As Sugino made his first pitch the pitcher sure enough followed the principal's orders and swung, the bat just inches away from Karma and Isogai's heads as they moved back barely an inch. The sight made you gasp as you began to anxiously bite at one of your nails, this was insane!

Karma only seemed amused as he moved closer to the batter with a psychotic grin, "Give us a break, holding back ain't gonna cut it pal. On the next throw, swing like you're trying to kill us."

In the next moment you expected to see Karma and Isogai on the ground with cracked skulls, but instead you heard the batter cry in fear as he hit the ball awkwardly causing it to bounce on the ground.

Karma was quick to jump and catch it, throwing it to Nagisa so he could place it on the home base. Isogai then quickly instructed Nagisa to throw it to third base which he did, Kimura catching it just in time to get the last player of Class A out.

"T..The game is over!" The sports announcer said shakily, "I can't even... this is insane! The winner is... I never thought I would say this but the winner is E Class."

Though there were obvious groans and gasps of shocks, the cheers from your class were much louder as you all clapped and shouted their names. Your classmates soon left the field to meet up with you guys, your classmates all high fiving and cheering for one another.

Skipping to your boyfriend you gave him a tight hug, his arms raising in surprise before he chuckled and hugged you back.

"That was amazing Karma!" You exclaimed into his chest as he ran his fingers through your locks before taking a step back and glaring at him as you grabbed onto his collar and pulled him down to your level, "But if you ever do that again I'll kill you!"

Karma's eyes widened in surprise before he laughed and shooed your hand off his shirt, "Yeah yeah. You know I wouldn't have let those A Class jerks touch me angel."

His smug words made your lips tug into an annoyed frown as you crossed your arms at him, the sight making Karma roll his eyes before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging your turned back against his chest. Your attempt at remaining annoyed with him slowly cracked as he kept placing messy kisses on the sides of your face.

"Don't make that pouty face, you'll get ugly wrinkles."

Your pouted lips immediately fell in feigned offense as you narrowed your eyes up at him, but before you could rebuttal, you heard some of the A Class students grumbling to themselves.

"Oh damn that was totally pointless, how did they lose to those E Class jerkwads?" One of the boys snarled. Their words made your brows furrow as you gripped onto Karma’s arms that were wrapped around you.

Karma seemed just as annoyed as his grip on you tightened slightly.

"All that superior fire power wasted."

Finally having enough of their passive aggressive comments, you stood up a bit straighter as you shouted over to them with a grin, “I think you mean all that superior fire power lost.”

The sight of you sticking your tongue out at them soon after your comment made their faces scrunch in anger, but as soon as they caught sight of the scary looking man behind you, they quickly averted their gazes and mumbled amongst each other.

Watching them walk away made you huff, your body turning around to face Karma as you puffed your cheeks out in annoyance, “Those jerks just won’t leave us alone! Someone ought to teach them a lesson.”

The sight of your frustrated expression nearly made Karma groan as he smirked down at you. Though a rare sight, you always looked so adorable all fired up. He couldn’t help but tease you.

“Woah don’t get too fired up there angel, you may do something crazy like try to set their alarm clocks an hour back so they’re late to school.”

Karma’s words made your lip pout as you glared up to him with folded arms.

“Have fun walking up the hill by yourself.” You huffed, turning on your heel to walk off with your classmates, but you were stopped in your tracks as strong arms lifted you into the air, your growls slowly molding into giggles as Karma ran with you to catch up with your class that already began their ascent to the classroom.

Nothing out of the ordinary for your classmates, they simply observed your interaction with smiles before Karma placed you down, the large group of you walking up together with a sense of provide filled in all of you.

“So, how did the basketball tournament go?” Nagisa asked, turning back to his classmates only to be shocked at the dull expressions on the girl’s faces.

“Oh yeah! Did you kick-” Karma’s words were cut off when a collective sigh of groans filled the air, your lips quirking into a sheepish smile as you glanced up to your boyfriend who wore a confused expression.

"Uhhh, let's not ruin the moment."

next chapter

[running-with-kn1ves]

🧎‍♀️more edira????? in evil old lesbian office worker we trust 🙏

how about a honeymoon-esque vacation scenario??? I am dying to see more of casual edira, the way she was in that last drabble ahgdgshababnabab

ur writing is just so good 💝

A/N: This is so kind! I was really surprised that Edira kept showing up in my inbox but I can't complain! I didn't want to jump to honeymoon just yet so here's a little vacation/beach episode :D

CW: blackmail/forced relationship, power imbalance, edira grabbing reader’s butt, overall possessive red flags --WC:2300

Synopsis: vacay with your powertrip of a girlfriend Edira! But her workaholic tendencies are hard to escape. 

Taking “official” photos was always a humbling experience. You looked down at your passport ID for the hundredth time, grimacing at how dead you looked in the grainy picture. 

“It’s not that bad. And see, the light hit your eyes perfectly,” Edira promised, but it didn’t fix the frown on your face as you focused on each blemish and pore that was exacerbated tenfold in the tiny image that represented who you were across country lines. 

“Easy for you to say, you look the same as you did in your headshots on the branch website..” 

You looked at her from the bed, watching the back of her sandy grey-blonde head shake with a sigh. The business woman rapidly typed away on her glowing laptop, seemingly irritated by the crashing waves outside the open sliding doors. 

“Well, if you really want we can get it taken again, when I put my last name on there too.” 

At that, you were quiet. Moving in together, and now vacations across boarders…. Her reference to marriage shouldn’t have been shocking, but it put all other thoughts in your brain to a stop. You didn’t really want to marry her, did you? Your blackmailing boss who was more like a war general than a tender lover, one who daydreamed about bending you over her desk more than what flowers she’d want at the ceremony venue. The possibility of staring into her bleak expression at an empty, cold courthouse and being forced to elope was something that made your frown droop even further. 

The sad excuse of a wedding depressed you more than the thought of marrying Edira at all. 

But you shook that despairing vision out of your head-- you were here to relax, to get away from the stress of your office environment (your coworkers)  and neverending projects with cutthroat deadlines (running reports and files to Edira as soon as she requests them.)

“Well, I still don’t know how I convinced you to let us do this. I mean, I didn’t think you ever took vacations. When’s the last time you went on a trip that wasn’t for work?”

Edira stopped her clacking, french tips scraping along one of the computer’s keys. 

“This is my first. I never had any reason to use my PTO days, until now.”

Wow, you really WERE dating a workaholic. What kind of insane person doesn’t use their personal days the second they get the chance? If you had been more than a temp, you would’ve taken all of yours the second Edira tried to indoctrinate you into her little play “date” plan.

“Well then why are you doing work!? This is one of the few times you can get away with not being available every other second of the day. You’ve been on your computer since we got on the plane-- isn’t it time we actually, you know, vacationed?”

Edira returned to her email writing. “They might need me, I’m the only one who has access to the other branches’ inf--”

“C’monn, I think they’ll be fine without you for an hour or two. Otherwise, what was the point of coming here..” You hopped to the screen doors, opening the curtains to see the glimmering ocean right outside your suite.The sand rippled with the blowing wind, completely void of footsteps or life.  “I mean we LITERALLY have the ocean right here and you’d rather stare at your laptop.” 

Edira hummed, not convinced. 

Yikes; If you wanted to explore the island you were supposed to be vacationing on, you’d need to pull out the big guns. 

“You’d rather focus on your work than… spend time with me?” Your voice cracked, looking at the ships far away from your corner of the coast. It was physically sickening to sweeten yourself up in order to get Edira’s favor. But how else could you actually use this once-in-a-lifetime chance to swim in the Indian Ocean, to experience something, anything, outside of your boring desk job and droning urban life. 

At your buttered up question, Edira paused. You could see her looking at you from the corner of her eye, unreadable. 

She shut her laptop. Pushing away from the desk she sighed, running a sharp hand through her hair, tight jaw clenching and unclenching. 

“Put your bathing suit on.” Was all she said, unzipping the back of her form-fitting dress. 

You didn’t say anything, no claps of excitement or relentless thank you’s-- lest she change her mind to ruin your fun. You hurried to change your shorts and souvenir shirt (A present from the airport gift shop; Edira saw you eyeing it) as the businesswoman walked to the master bathroom. 

You prayed to be faster than her, hoping she wouldn’t catch you in a position that sparked her lust.

You were running around looking for sunscreen and towels when she came out, hands on her hips and dark sunglasses propped on her head. Even in her backless one piece, she looked like an executive on a business trip,  hard glare in her eyes and a muted black covering the front of her body. From the back however, a different person was hidden. The cheeky bottoms exposed nearly the full of her, well, bottom, as ruffled locks of hair fell like messy feathers down her shoulders, exposed to the salty wind. She was the sexy women in swimsuit magazines, meant to be a fantasy of maturity and dominance way out of your league. But here she was, looking you up and down as you hopped on one foot to try and grab a towel on the other side of the bed. 

“You know, i’m not really a big fan of the beach. I don’t know why I picked this place… should’ve chosen the mountains or something. Someplace we wouldn’t be bothered.”

Someplace she could have you all to herself, she meant. Somewhere you wouldn’t be distracted by things to do and  would come looking to her for warmth by the fire. 

“Maybe next vacation!” You hoped, praying that it turned the cogs in her machine brain to take you somewhere else, anywhere else, soon. “Meanwhile, we have our own private beach, thanks to you. We’ll only be bothered by the occasional seaweed. And maybe a fish or two.”

You gathered up the beach necessities in your arms, full of towels and a beach umbrella, along with small must-haves like water bottles and sunscreen spray cans. Edira looked at you with an incredilous stare, grabbing the towels and water from your hands to shove into her beach bag. 

“Yeah, didn’t really think of that.” You said, noticing how most of the things you grabbed could be fit into her infinite ‘lifes a beach’ tote-- complementary from your Airbnb hosts.

“Let’s go.” 

She walked out to the naked patio, locking her pointer finger with yours as you hiked the umbrella on your shoulder. You had come to learn Edira well; she didn’t like the sun, hated most gelatinous sugary mixtures, and was incredibly stubborn if an activity included something she found beneath her. Getting sand between her toes, included. 

You found a place far away from the shore and began spinning the umbrella’s pole into the ground. Edira would surely make use of its shade, but the ocean was calling your name as she sat down on her beach towel, squinting behind her sunglasses. 

“I can see the harbor from across the water; not particularly private, I’d say. The hosts’ll make sure to hear about this when we leave.”

“It’s private enough. What, did you want to go skinny dipping or something?” You laughed, clumping sand at the base of the umbrella with your foot. “The press would have a field day.”

You flumped down next to her, happy to be out of that stuffy, although beautiful, beach house that reminded you too much of Edira’s apartment. The warm sand was comforting, shells and rocks placed around you like little treasures. 

“If I want to go skinny dipping with you I should be able to, not have to worry about some fisherman watching while I touch you.” She pulled at your thigh, placing her hand on the inside as she lifted up her sunglasses. “Or maybe, you’d like that, letting them watch you frolick and squirm. Maybe we should find out if they can really see us--”

She had the full intention of digging under your bottoms to make a statement, but your reaction time to her had improved. 

“You’re such a worrywart, can we just swim now please? It’s better than sitting her in the hot sun, on the sticky sand..” You knew you caught her when she turned her nose at the mention of the sun, only worsening as she started to feel the sand cover her feet. 

She was a priss through and through, and sometimes it worked in your favor.

“Fine… but if I’m touched by something slimy I can’t help what I do.” 

You grinned with your teeth, unable to hold back a smile at finally getting to experience the beginning of your vacation. 

You ran to the waves crashing against the sand, feeling them flick up at your ankles and knees as you waded in the water.

You turned around to walk backwards into the sea, watching as the woman hesitantly took out a hairtie that once had her hair in a high pony. 

“Come on! Slowpoke!” 

Edira reached the gap between land and water, frowning at schools of tiny fish and jagged rocks that would surely make it hard to walk in heels the next morning. 

You had to drag her further, holding her outstretched hand as she let you lead her deeper into the water. 

“It’s not so bad, right? Nothing slimy thus far…”

“Something’s definitely touching my leg.” She remarked, linking arms with you as if you were a safety floaty. “And it smells like fish.”

You both trudged far enough from shore, a little more than waist deep as you watched the sun near the horizon line. 

You took a moment to look at it, staring as the boats pass by from far away, seeing the empty houses on the beach neighboring yours between areas of trees. 

Edira turned towards you, the same moment something coming to grip your bottom. 

“Something nabbed me!” You nearly shrieked, only to feel the same sensation on your other cheek, pulling you forward against Edira. She had her arms wrapped behind you, squeezing your ass like it was dough to be kneaded. 

“Thought I was the scared one, hm?” 

You looked away, putting your hands against Edira’s abdomen. She leered over you, ignoring your attempts to create distance as she caged you in. The waves pushed you together, water swaying as her legs brushed against your knees deep below. 

“don't look away from me now, you're too adorable like this…”

She watched your eyes barely peek up, defensive fists flattening against the bare of her collarbone. She was almost spotless, save for a few sun-kissed freckles sprinkled here and there. 

Edira grinned a wolfy smirk. Even despite her discomfort in the sea she knew you were wrapped around her finger, nervous lips twitching while watching her bring a hand from your bottom to your neck.

Her hands  were salty and wet from the sea, pulling at the base of your head to bring you closer. The workaholic almost seemed to begin destressing as her nose pressed against yours.. Edira nuzzled with her forehead pressed to your sweaty one, fine fingers caressing downward to grab your jaw. 

Without warning, her tongue perched itself against your cheek, turning your face to the side as she ran a long stripe up to your temple. It was wet and full, drawing out her time to savor the flavor and discomfort of your expression. 

“What are you--”

“Salty.” She murmured. “You're so soft, getting all mushy in my arms.” Edira laughed-- a real laugh, with a small snort as she leaned into you. She was so close, the intimate entertwining of your bodies so unusual from her normal obscurity.

It was hard not to look petulant when her eyes peered down at you with a gleam, as if you were a cute drunk thing at the bar she wanted to take home safe, or a pampered puppy ready to be suffocated with attention. 

“So cute.. might make me jealous letting all these boatmen see you in such a little bathing suit.” She teased, progressively in a better mood now with the clouds blocking the sun and your body so cooperative in her grasp. 

“Jealous?” You rolled your eyes. “Oh noo, I could never imagine my girlfriend being jealous.”

All the times of her domineering possessive behavior ran through your head, the sarcastic comment truly not detailing how severe she had gone.  

“I am your girlfriend…” she grinned, kissing your shoulder with a tight grip arpund your hips. “Now that I hear it,I want more… it sounds too, loose.”

Wait, did you really call her your “girlfriend”? Hell, maybe the sun was starting to get to you. 

“We'll it’s not like we can get MARRIED, haha,” you awkwardly brush off how romantic she's being all of a sudden, soft circles created by her nails running along the dip of your back. “I mean… right? We're too uncommitted for marriage, and I mean who would want to marry someone the’re in a fake relationship with.”

You couldn’t tell if you were talking about her or you anymore. Edira’s chest pressed against yours, arms tentatively keeping you trapped against her. 

“Mm… Still feels fake to you?” She questioned In your neck, surprisingly calmer than you expected her to be at that comment. “How much more do I need to convince you that this is real,” Those soft lips came to brush against your ear. “That you’re not going anywhere.”

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN (see full series list here)

1994

Two nights before Harry's big Ministry hearing, you sit at the kitchen table with Sirius, talking about nothing in particular, easily slipping into your old routine of sitting and talking with each other for hours on end. No matter who you meet, no matter how long you've known them, there's no one that seems to just get you like he does.

Mrs Weasley wipes down the counters in the kitchen, her usual routine before heading to bed, while her husband fiddles with a Muggle children's toy you'd given him. It's one of those things with the metal balls inside, and you have to shake and tilt it to try and get them to fall into place in the holes, usually on the top of a bottle of bubbles.

"Fascinating!" Mr Weasley exclaims happily, shaking it enthusiastically and watching in wonder as the balls miss every hole completely. "And Muggle children play with this, yes?"

You nod, smiling. "Keeps them entertained for a little while. I never liked them growing up — I was never patient enough.”

He continues to play with the toy, his face the picture of wonder and interest. You're glad he's there, really, because you hate the tension between Sirius and Mrs Weasley ever since Harry's return. Neither one of them have decided to apologise to the other — and though sometimes you think about saying it to Sirius, you feel it really should be Mrs Weasley who apologises, considering the awful things she said about his place as Harry's godfather.

You're still on good terms with Mrs Weasley, despite how her words still sit stinging in the back of your mind, but you'd rather forget about it and move on amicably than suffer through this suffocating awkwardness.

A knock on the kitchen door grabs the attention of the room, and you stand up to answer it, surprised when Dumbledore is on the other side of it.

"Dumbledore!" you exclaim, opening the door wider for him to enter. "Wasn't expecting you tonight."

He steps inside, smiling politely at you. "Yes, I do apologise for coming unannounced… Sirius, I would like a word with you, if you don't mind."

Mrs Weasley drops her cloth into the sink, brushing off her hands and seizing hold of Arthur's arm quickly. "It's getting late, we should be getting to bed. Goodnight, everyone."

"Night," you say to them, watching as they scurry out of the basement kitchen as quick as possible and close it behind them. Glancing between Dumbledore and Sirius, you feel a slight awkwardness creep through you. You clear your throat. "Should I go?"

"No," they say at the same time, eyes focused on each other.

Great.

You mentally prepare yourself for the argument that's bound to begin when these two start talking. You busy yourself in the kitchen, doing nothing really but pretend to look occupied as Sirius starts the conversation.

"Well, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Harry's hearing on Thursday," Dumbledore replies, as you mindlessly adjust cups in the press without them needing it.

"And? What about it?"

There's a pause, the only noise being you clinking cups against each other aimlessly. "I expect you would like to accompany Harry, but I am afraid I must tell you that I do not think you should."

"I can't say I'm surprised to hear you think that," Sirius says, a slight bitterness lining the edges of his voice. "But I'm sure you understand that I think I should. He's going to a Ministry hearing, he could do with the moral support."

"He will have moral support from Mr Weasley, who will be bringing him to and from his hearing," Dumbledore answers calmly. "It is far too dangerous for you to leave this house, Sirius, even in your animagus form."

"I'll be careful. I just want to help his nerves — "

"I cannot let you," Dumbledore says, more firm this time. "Not only do I think you shouldn't, I know you shouldn't. It is not worth the risk."

You look up as Sirius glances at you, and Dumbledore follows his eyeline expectantly.

"I'll go with him, Sirius, don't worry," you say with a sympathetic smile. You know how much he was looking forward to getting out of the house. "I'll make sure he's alright."

"I am sorry to say I must tell you to stay here as well, professor," Dumbledore says slowly, and you blink at him in confusion.

"I...I don't understand. I'm not on the run, why can't I go with my godson?"

"Suspicions will be raised if you are spotted within the Ministry," Dumbledore says, looking at you. The prolonged eye contact is making you uncomfortable, and you nervously avoid his gaze and focus on the wooden table before you. "It is best that Harry's visit draws as little attention as possible."

"Then I'll wear a disguise," you reply simply.

"As who?"

You bring yourself to meet his eyes, blue and expectant as he silently waits for you to offer an answer: one that you don't have. "As...uh, a Ministry worker bringing him to his hearing, of course."

You think you might imagine the slight surprise that widens Dumbledore's eyes by a fraction, but it's gone when he shakes his head. "Too risky. I direct the two of you to stay here during his hearing, and not to go with him."

You look at Sirius, your eyes communicating every frustration you're currently feeling — he looks the exact same. You're so sick of having arguments and never getting what you want out of them.

You bite your lip, sighing defeatedly. "Right, fine. We'll stay."

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

After a disgustingly early start on Thursday morning, you wish Harry the best of luck in his hearing and watch as he and Mr Weasley leave the house for the Ministry. You make an effort to keep yourself and Sirius as busy as possible, working on cleaning and redoing the drawing room again.

You run a cloth along the piano, catching the dust and revealing the shiny black surface hiding beneath the grime. You sit down on the bench, pushing it closer to the instrument with your heels and start to play whatever comes to mind, an old classical tune you've forgotten the name of.

When you finish, Sirius comes to join you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Beautiful. What's it called?"

You shrug, smiling sheepishly at him. "I forget. I'm a bit rusty, to be honest."

"Doesn't sound like that to me," he says, motioning for you to scoot over so he can sit beside you on the bench. "Could you teach me something?"

"You never played?" You say, surprised. "I would've thought this was here for you to play."

Sirius chuckles softly, shaking his head. "It was more my mother. She always wanted me to play, but I refused, of course. Regulus was far better than me — he used to play while she did her embroidery."

You scoff. "Her embroidery? It was the 70s, not the 1800s."

"My parents did not get the memo, apparently." He nudges you with his shoulder, smiling playfully at you. "Come on, teach me something, professor."

You spend the next hour teaching him the basics, gently placing your hands on his and slowly leading him through a simple piece, laughing at the intense look of concentration on his face.

"What are you giggling at?" he says with a grin, looking back at you.

"Nothing, you're just so concentrated," you giggle, beaming.

"Well, it's actually quite difficult, you know...everyone has to start somewhere!" he says in mock offense.

You hum, pouting dramatically at him. "And you're starting off very well." You peck his lips, patting his shoulder as you swing your legs over the bench and stand up. "Come on, Mozart, I think I heard the front door open."

When you enter the kitchen, the atmosphere is very much celebratory as Ron high-fives Harry hard, a great big grin on his face.

"Cleared!" Harry says to you and Sirius, beaming, "of all charges!"

You feel the weight lift from your shoulders and grin at him. "Oh, wonderful, Harry!"

Sirius claps Harry hard on the back, beaming proudly at him. "Knew you'd pull through."

When Harry turns away, however, you don't miss the way Sirius's smile falters and is replaced by a small look of disappointment, before he regains his composure and smiles again. You find his hand and squeeze it comfortingly.

"Listen, you guys, Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry — " Mr Weasley starts, and you both immediately turn your attention to Arthur.

"What?" you say sharply.

"Yes, we saw him talking to Fudge on level nine, then they went up to Fudge's office together," Mr Weasley replies. "Dumbledore ought to know."

"Absolutely," Sirius says. "We'll tell him, don't worry."

Lucius Malfoy. If Fudge stopped to think for a second why Lucius Malfoy keeps donating so much gold to the Ministry, surely he'd realise that it's not out of the goodness of his lovely pureblood heart?

Dinner passes pleasantly, everyone in high spirits after Harry's great escape from expulsion. Sirius, however, seems more downcast than usual and you're pretty sure you know the reason.

He heads to bed much earlier than everyone else, finishing his meal and bidding everyone goodnight. While everyone else celebrates and chats happily at the table around you, you chew on your lip thoughtfully.

You wait a while before heading up to bed after Sirius, wanting to give him time to himself to think over everything. However, when you open the door to his bedroom you find it empty, and immediately go looking for him. It's only when you enter the master bedroom, where Buckbeak is being kept, that you find your husband, sitting on the floor next to the hippogriff, stroking his feathers absent-mindedly.

"Here you are," you say softly, shutting the door behind you. "Hello, Buckbeak."

Buckbeak cocks his head in your direction curiously, clicking his beak in greeting.

Sirius looks up when you enter, clearing his throat. "Hello."

You make your way over, sitting next to him on the floor. You don't say anything for a few moments, the room quiet and still, before you take a deep breath and start talking. "I know you're disappointed Harry is going away to Hogwarts again."

He doesn't respond, sighing.

"But it was going to happen," you continue, your voice soft and gentle. "That's where he's happiest."

"I know," he says quietly. "I know that. I just...hoped I'd get more time with him. Longer than a few weeks."

You hum, laying your head on his shoulder. "Me too."

"But you'll get to see him anyway," he continues. "Come September, you'll both be gone back to Hogwarts."

You shake your head, offering him a small smile. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts in September, Sirius. I'm staying here."

His expression brightens for a moment, before he seems to remind himself of something and shakes his head. "But you love your job. You're always talking about how much you love teaching."

"I do," you answer truthfully. "But I love you more. I could never live with myself if I knew I had the choice of going back to work or being with you, and I chose my job. I've had a good thirteen years of working there, and I'd like to make up for all the time we have missed out on together instead."

Sirius looks at you as if it's taking every bit of resolve in him to say this. "I want you to go back."

"You don’t seem too convinced.”

He exhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. "I want you there, to look out for Harry. To keep him safe."

"Hogwarts is where he's safest, Sirius," you say. "Dumbledore will be there, he knows best how to protect him — "

"But he's not you," he says simply, his eyes serious. "Dumbledore can protect him, sure, but Harry trusts you. He knows he can go to you for anything. I think that's what he needs most this year."

You sigh, kissing your teeth quietly. "I don't want you to be alone."

"But you know I'm right."

You chuckle humourlessly, shaking your head. "I hate it when you're right."

He pulls you into him, kissing your temple. "I know."

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"So, any girls, Harry?"

Sirius raises his eyebrows at the boy, everyone else in the room distracted by their own separate conversations and activities. They had previously been discussing Harry's life at the Dursleys, and now Sirius thinks it is high time for him to impart as much (god)fatherly wisdom he can on the lad.

"What?" Harry's face is the picture of confusion.

"You can't tell me there isn't someone you've got your eye on," Sirius continues with a cheeky grin. "Girl, boy, maybe there's more than one — so come on, tell me, what's going on?"

Harry laughs nervously, shaking his head. "There's no one."

Sirius raises his eyebrows at him, unbelieving.

"Okay, there's one girl."

Sirius grins triumphantly, laughing. "I knew it! You make any moves yet?"

"What? No."

"In that case, let me impart some of my endless wisdom," Sirius says theatrically. "Now, Harry, if you're going to listen to anything I say to you now, it best be this: never lie to a woman. Okay? Simple." He brings his hand up to begin listing things off his fingers. "It'll never work, they always know. And if they don't know straight away, they'll find out you lied eventually, and then it'll be even worse for you. It never ends well. I mean — have you ever tried to lie to my wife?"

Harry thinks for a moment, shaking his head. "No?"

"Think again, you're sure you've never lied about your homework or something like that?" Sirius pushes.

Harry thinks again, remembering the time he tried to lie to you about his scar being painful in fourth year. "Wait, I have, actually."

"And did she believe you?"

"No."

Sirius nods gravely. "She is impossible to lie to. I don't know how, but she just sees through it every time — it's impressive, really."

"I hope you're not gossiping about me."

Looking up, Sirius spots you sitting down into the chair beside him, just returning from your guard duty that night.

He smiles. "Never, darling."

You hum, giving him an unimpressed look. "Nice try."

Sirius looks at Harry, raising his eyebrows with a laugh. "See? I told you." He shakes his head, smiling at you. "I've just been giving Harry some advice on girls, that's all."

You snort, giving him an incredulous look. "Girl advice? Sirius, please, you know nothing about women."

"What? I know plenty!" he says defensively, but still in good humour. "I knew enough to get you to marry me."

You smile sympathetically at him, patting his cheek. "That's actually not true, I'm afraid, because I married you for your money."

"Oh, really?"

"Uh-huh."

You look at each other, grinning, before bursting into laughter. When your chuckles finally subside, you look at Harry again. "Seriously, though, Harry, don't listen to Sirius. You don't want to do anything he or your father ever did to get a girl to like them."

"It still worked!" Sirius defends. "We both got to marry the women we loved."

"What did my dad do?" Harry asks curiously, and you laugh.

"What didn't your dad do?" you say. "Actually, do you want to hear the story of how I even became friends with your dad? And Sirius too, by connection — but it was really all James's doing in the end."

"I want to hear this too!" Hermione chimes in, who before had been talking to Remus with Ron.

"What's this?" Remus asks, a curious smile playing on his features.

"How we became friends in fourth year," you explain, and Remus instantly nods in acknowledgment.

"Oh yes, James and his ways."

You clear your throat, grinning. "Now, if I can have your full attention..."

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

January, 1975

You walk along the corridor, a letter clutched in your hands, making your way to the owlery when a voice calls your name.

You recognise the voice, and with an agitated sigh, you continue walking and ignore it. He calls again, before you hear his footsteps pounding along the floor behind you and he skids to a stop beside you, bumping your shoulder.

"Potter? What do you want?"

James Potter falls into step beside you, grinning, his face red and his glasses askew from running. You can't say you're particularly fond of him, considering how he annoys Lily every single day and bullies her friend, Severus. Any enemy of Lily's is an enemy of yours.

"So quick to anger!" he exclaims dramatically. "So demanding!"

You grit your teeth. "What do you want, James?"

"Listen, listen..." he places a hand on your shoulder, pulling you aside. "Now, you and I haven't always seen eye-to-eye, for reasons unknown — "

You scoff.

" — but despite this, I have a trade — a proposal, if you will — of a lifetime to offer you!"

You raise your eyebrows at him again, thoroughly unimpressed.

"I suggest this — trade me a date with Lily, and I'll send you an invitation to the wedding. Sound good?"

He stretches out his hands, wiggling them theatrically and you burst into derisive laughter, shaking your head.

"Oh...you're funny, James, I'll give you that," you say, moving to walk away when he grabs your arm again.

"Wait, wait, listen to me," he says desperately. "Look, I really like Lily, and you're the only one who can help me. You’re her best friend.”

"What about Alice?"

He frowns, rubbing the back of his neck. "She used some…colourful language to tell me she will not be helping me."

You nod. "Sounds about right." You sigh, rubbing your forehead. "Look, James, if you really like Lily then stop being such an ass about it."

"What?"

"You're too cocky, James, and you're mean," you say. "Just actually talk to her yourself, no bullshit. And let Alice and me get some peace, yeah?" 

You finally manage to leave him now, turning and making your way up to the owlery to post your letter. 

If there's one thing about James Potter, it's that he doesn't know how to follow good advice. Sure, talking to Lily would be all fine and dandy if she wanted anything to do with him, but unfortunately for James, she did not. No, to James, this romance is a multi-level scheme, a plan, and you were key to his success.

The best friend angle, he calls it. If he can convince you that he's a decent guy, good enough to date Lily, you can then convince her to go out with him! All he needs is one teeny, tiny little date and James believes that Lily will fall head-over-heels in love with him, and they'll live happily ever after for years to come. 

But he can't go talking himself up to you — you'd never believe it for a second. So he sends the next best thing: his best friend. 

One morning, on your way to Potions, your bag decides to unceremoniously rip and fall to the ground, sending your belongings skittering along the dungeon floor. 

"Oh, no! Do you want some help?" Alice asks, stopping in her tracks. 

You shake your head, glancing at your watch. "No, it's fine. You'll be late — save me a seat!" 

Alice and Lily quickly head into the classroom while you throw everything back into your bag, cursing at the textbook that's now been covered in ink from one of your inkwells and how you've got dark ink all over your hands now. You repair your bag with a wave of your wand, and hurry into the classroom. 

Professor Horace Slughorn looks at you in surprise as you enter and you smile sheepishly. 

"Sorry, professor, my bag split..."

"Nothing to worry about, my dear! Take a seat," Slughorn booms cheerfully. 

You look around, trying to locate Lily and Alice and the seat they were supposed to have saved you, only to find it's been taken by someone else — conveniently the boy Alice has been pining over for the past few weeks. You stare, betrayed, at Alice, who shrugs and mouths, "I'm sorry!"

You scoff quietly, glaring at the boy and wandering to the only empty seat left, which happens to be right beside Sirius Black. He looks up, raising his eyebrows and smirking at you as you sigh, dropping into the seat beside him. 

"Well, aren't I lucky to have you sit beside me?" 

"Truly." You glance around and click your tongue thoughtfully. "Trouble in paradise, Sirius? Looks like your girlfriend kicked you out."

You point at James, who is sitting beside Peter and Remus on the other side of the room.

"Is there something wrong with wanting to sit with someone new?" Sirius says, lowering his voice as Slughorn begins his teaching. "A very pretty someone, might I add."

"Save it for James," you mutter, unimpressed. This isn't the first time Sirius has tried his charms on you, and you're not in the mood for it right now. 

"Today we will be brewing a hair-raising potion," Slughorn says, smiling happily at the students. "Now, we'll start by chopping up 5 grams of porcupine quills — "

"Speaking of James..." Sirius starts, ignoring Slughorn. "What do you think of him? What are your thoughts?"

"I think he's a git." You turn pointedly away from him, focusing on Slughorn again. You give him a confused look when you notice he's not paying attention to Slughorn at all. "Don't you want to find out how to brew this potion?"

He shrugs casually. "I've already made it before, it's not difficult."

Though you really want to ignore him and listen to Slughorn, your curiosity gets the best of you and you turn to him again. "Why have you made a hair-raising potion before?"

He grins at you. "We put it in Filch's goblet on Halloween. Although, we may have gotten some measurements wrong — "

"That was you?" You say in disbelief, a shocked laugh escaping your lips. "You're the reason Filch lost half his hair?" 

"Well, me and James — and also Peter and Remus," he replies, grinning proudly. 

You sigh, shaking your head with an amused smile. "Right. Well…I haven't made it before, so if you don't mind, I'd like to listen to my teacher now."

" — next, add the rat tails slowly, mixing the potion counter-clockwise as the tails are added, and it should turn to this sort of blue colour — cerulean, I would say...or perhaps it is more of a sky blue — " 

"Really, though, about James..." Sirius interrupts quietly, distracting you again. "He's a good guy. Got a good heart, a real romantic. Don't you want Lily to go out with someone who really cares about her?"

You scoff. "Did James set you up for this? Seriously? He's more desperate than I thought -- "

"Which just shows how much he cares," Sirius says, ever the loyal friend. 

"It shows how much of a coward he is," you hiss, your face the picture of attention when Slughorn's gaze flits to your desk to make sure you're listening. "He's too scared to talk to Lily himself."

"Because she hates him!" He sighs, looking at you, eyes big and pleading. "You just need to get to know him, then you'll see — what about this? Hang out with us tomorrow. Spend the whole day with us, and then tell me what you think."

You raise your eyebrows at him, shaking your head. 

"Unless..." a smirk tugs at his lips. "Unless you're scared of being wrong. Scared that you might actually like us."

And, despite knowing that this is definitely not worth your time, despite knowing that he only said that to goad you, you bite. 

"Fine. One day, that's all you get," you relent, and Sirius grins triumphantly. "But — if I don't like him by the end of it, you have to do my potions homework for a month!"

"Done." He holds his hand out for you to shake, grinning smugly at you, and you take it, letting go quickly. "And when I say the whole day, I mean the whole day. You can't go running off to Lily and Alice at all, you're stuck with us."

You give him a pained smile, gritting your teeth. "Can't wait."

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

"You make me sound so bad in that story," Sirius complains when you finish and you laugh.

"That's how you were!" you defend. "Right, Remus?" 

Remus smiles appreciatively, nodding. "I'm afraid so."

"Did it work?" Hermione asks curiously. "What did you think of James by the end of it?" 

You laugh, grinning at her. "Oh, nothing changed, and Sirius had to do my Potions work for the month, as agreed" — Sirius rolls his eyes " — but I did have a lot of fun, and we became friends. By fifth year, we were all as thick as thieves." 

"Did you really not like my dad?" Harry says, brows furrowed. 

You give him a reassuring smile, shaking your head. "Not at the beginning, no. Lily didn't like him, so I didn't like him either. But after that torturous day spent with the lot of them, he really grew on me and now I can't picture Lily with anyone else. You really wouldn't meet another couple more perfect for each other."

"Except for us, of course," Sirius adds. 

You nod, an obvious look on your face. "Oh, obviously. We are unbeatable." You tap your chin thoughtfully, racking your brains for another story to tell. "What else can I tell you..."

"How about the time you punched Lucius Malfoy?" Remus offers, casually taking a sip from his goblet. 

The trio's jaws drop, and you turn and stare at Remus accusingly, who smiles innocently at you over his goblet. 

Sirius laughs beside you. "An excellent story!"

You shake your head frantically, glaring at Remus. "I really don't think this is the story they need to hear — "

"We wanna hear it!" Harry says, grinning and nodding at his two friends. 

"I — I don't even remember — "

"I do," Sirius says, smirking at you. He clears his throat dramatically. "Your godmother hated Lucius Malfoy at school, Harry. Absolutely hated him, and for good reason too, 'cause he was a prick — but one day he was picking on her, trying to wind her up, and he said something bad about Lily and bam, she just punched him right in the middle of Herbology, no hesitation."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stare at you in shock and you wince, shaking your head. "That makes me sound awful."

"One of the best days of my life," Sirius says with a proud grin. "You broke his nose, didn't you?" 

"Yep," you nod, kissing your teeth. "Got myself a month's worth of detention, too. Professor McGonagall was furious with me."

"Wicked," Ron says in awe. 

"You should've seen the look on his face," Sirius continues gleefully. "He was too afraid to speak to her for weeks."

You shake your head vigorously. "I'd like to stop talking about this."

"Oh, stop pretending like you regret it," Sirius says with a scoff, laughing. "You're proud of it — and you should be, he needed to be taken down a peg."

"Oh, well…” you glance at Remus. “At least I didn't eat a butterfly."

Remus stares back at you in shock, his cheeks reddening. "I was six! And I told you that in confidence!"

"You...you ate a butterfly?" Harry repeats and Remus hangs his head in shame. 

"I'm not proud of it. It was an accident and I cried for a month after it happened. I...I can never look at butterflies the same."

You and Sirius burst into laughter, while Remus scowls, his face a dark shade of crimson.

He gives Sirius an accusatory look. "You can't say anything, Sirius, when you only took O.W.L. Astronomy because she was taking it."

You snort, looking at Sirius in surprise. "Really? I thought you liked it."

"Hated it," Sirius admits. "I thought it'd be nice and easy, looking at stars and planets and all that but it was actually pretty difficult, and you loved it — you used to go on these long excited rambles about astronomy and I never had any idea what you were talking about."

"I really thought you liked it!" you say sheepishly. "If you didn't like it, why didn't you tell me? Could've escaped my rambles."

He shrugs, smiling at you. "I liked hearing you talk."

You raise your eyebrows, folding your arms. "Didn't like hearing me talk when you put that potion in the showers, did you?"

Remus and Sirius grin at each other. 

"It's not like you were the only target!" Sirius says defensively, still laughing. 

"What?" Harry asks, puzzled, and you give the chortling Sirius a shove. 

"The boys thought they were so funny." You scowl at Remus, though you don't really mean it. "One day, they slipped a potion into the Gryffindor showers that caused anyone who used them to have to walk around with a giant bubble around their head for the rest of the day. It was awful."

Ron and Harry start laughing and you sigh, shaking your head. 

"It was very funny, to be fair," Sirius says cheekily and you roll your eyes. 

"Oh, shut it." 

You, Sirius, and Remus spend the rest of the evening telling the kids the best stories of your school days, and your chest burns from laughter by the end of it. 

"Remember the night we snuck out?"

"Or when James sneezed and nearly fell off his broom!"

"You can't forget the time Alice tripped, fell into Flitwick, and knocked him over!" 

When Mrs Weasley finally puts a stop to your story-telling and makes the kids go to bed, you linger, sitting contentedly between Sirius and Remus. You drape your arms across their shoulders, pulling them into you with a sigh. "I love you two, you know that? I don't know what I'd do without you."

You mean it, too. You're so happy to be back to some semblance of normal, where you get to see Sirius every day and wake up next to him after so long apart, where you finally get to tell people these stories without worrying about what they'll think, where you get to laugh and joke with Remus and talk about nothing at all. 

You're with your family again.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

“I thought we’d have a little party, not a sit-down dinner,” Mrs Weasley says cheerfully, as she hangs a scarlet banner over the dinner table that reads: Congratulations Ron and Hermione — New Prefects.

The kids had received their book lists this morning, the last day of the summer holidays,  which you find quite odd as the book list is usually out far earlier in the year. With the lists, Ron and Hermione had received shiny new prefect badges and Mrs Weasley has been on cloud nine ever since. When you joined her in Diagon Alley to get everyone’s books and supplies, she talked and talked of how proud she is of her youngest son and how wonderful it is that he was chosen. You think it’s sweet.

The town was bustling of course, with parents and children scrambling to get their books and school supplies before the term starts. You met several of your students and their parents and stopped many times to chat and catch up with them – even spending a good while talking to Neville and his grandmother, who has always struck you as an interesting woman. She was one of the few people who had actually trusted you after Sirius’s imprisonment and always appreciates the time you spend visiting Frank and Alice in St Mungo’s.

“Your father and Bill are on the way, Ron, I’ve sent them both owls and they’re thrilled.”

The table is piled high with food and drink, the room buzzing with celebration and cheer. Remus approaches you and Sirius, goblets in hand for the both of you. 

“All set for tomorrow, then?” he asks you, handing you your goblet. 

“Think so,” you answer with a shrug, taking a sip from your wine. “I’m glad I went to Diagon Alley weeks ago, it was absolutely mad today — all the good parchment and quills were gone.”

Nearby, Moody sets his normal eye on Ron and growls, “Prefect, eh? Well, congratulations. Authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn’t have appointed you…”

Ron looks quite startled at this view and quickly leaves to go welcome Arthur and Bill Weasley, who have just arrived, accompanied by Mundungus in a weirdly lumpy overcoat that he seems adamant to keep on — no doubt housing another unique business venture in his pockets.

“Well, I think a toast is in order,” Mr Weasley announces, once everyone has a drink. He raises his goblet, beaming. “To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!”

You grin at the pair of them, drinking to them and then applauding. As you reach for something to eat on the table, you beam at the pair of them. “Congrats, you two. I was never a prefect myself, that was Lily’s job — our teachers reckoned I wasn’t a good fit.”

“Why did they think that?” Ginny asks curiously. 

“‘Cause I found rules impossible to follow.”

Ginny laughs, and Hermione looks unsure of whether she should smile or frown at this, and instead chooses to take a large gulp from her butterbeer and chokes on it. 

“What about you, Sirius?” Ginny says, thumping the coughing Hermione on the back. 

Sirius lets out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Remus was the good boy, he got the badge.”

“I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends,” says Remus. “I need scarcely say that I failed dismally.”

Soon, Ron is gushing about his new broom to anyone who’ll listen. His mother had bought him a broomstick as a present for his new status. “Nought to seventy in ten seconds, not bad, is it? When you think the Comet Two-Ninety only does nought to sixty and that’s with a decent tailwind according to Which Broomstick?”

“Why didn’t Dumbledore make Potter a prefect?” Kingsley Shacklebolt is saying quietly to Remus, though his deep voice is audible even in chatter. 

“He’ll have had his reasons,” Remus replies. 

“But it would’ve shown confidence in him. It’s what I’d’ve done,” Kingsley continues. “Especially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him every few days…”

You think that perhaps it’s best to keep Harry out of the limelight as much as possible. Your heart aches with sympathy for him — an orphan boy raised with his spiteful relations, without any knowledge of the wizarding world until his eleventh birthday, and then being thrust into a world where everyone knows his name and his story better than he does. A boy who met two different versions of Voldemort in his first two years, then watched him come back to life at fourteen, and witnessed the death of his classmate. A boy who is currently being vilified by the media and the government simply for telling the truth, and a boy who has to live in fear for his life all because he survived death as a baby. 

At the end of the day, he’s just a boy. He’s just a child. 

If you could take it all on for him, you would. You would do it in a heartbeat. 

“You alright?”

Sirius taps the tip of your nose gently with his finger, looking inquisitively at you. You shake yourself out of the thoughtful daze you had gotten yourself in, and smile at him. 

“Perfect. Just thinking, that’s all.” 

“About what?” 

You glance at Harry out of the corner of your eye, who catches your eye and looks away quickly, acting as though he wasn’t eavesdropping as he makes his way over to Moody. You turn back to Sirius, placing your hands in the back pockets of your jeans with a shrug. “D’you remember all the things the prefects used to get? The fancy baths in the bathroom, the private compartment on the train, the mitching class for meetings…”

“Didn’t need to be a prefect for the last one, did we?” Sirius says with a cheeky grin, and you chuckle. 

“Well, we certainly didn’t, no.”

After a while, everyone begins to filter out of the basement and upstairs to their beds. You follow Moody as he hobbles down the hallway towards the doorway. 

“You’re welcome to stay, y’know,” you whisper, conscious of the sleeping portraits on the wall. 

Moody leans on his staff with both hands, raising his eyebrows at you. “And wait for that house-elf of yours to strangle me in my sleep? No thanks.”

You snort, scoffing. “If Kreacher was going to strangle anyone in their sleep, what makes you think it’d be you?” 

“I’ve seen the looks he gives me — there’s murderous intent in those eyes,” Moody growls, good eye wide in warning. 

Sirius shrugs. “He has that intent for everyone, trust me — “

He stops as a muffled yell is heard from upstairs, and without hesitating you sprint up the stairs to the drawing room with Sirius, Moody, and Remus following close behind you.

“What’s going on?” 

Running into the room, you freeze when you spot Mrs Weasley cowering in the corner of the room, her hand trembling violently as she points her wand at a figure in the middle of the room: Harry, lying dead on the carpet. 

Remus pulls out his wand immediately, saying, “Riddikulus!”

Harry’s body vanishes, replaced by a shiny full moon hovering in the centre of the room. Remus waves his wand once more and the moon vanishes. 

Mrs Weasley breaks into a fit of sobbing, her face in her hands as her body shakes. 

“Molly,” Remus says bleakly, striding over to her, “Molly, don’t…”

You stare at the patch of carpet where the boggart pretending to be Harry’s lifeless body had just been, fighting the urge to vomit.

“It was just a boggart,” Remus says soothingly as Mrs Weasley buries her head in his shoulder, sobbing. “Just a stupid boggart…”

“I see them d-d-dead all the time!” she cries into his shoulder. “All the t-time! I d-dream about it!”

You force yourself to tear your eyes off the carpet, shaking your head to remove the image of Harry dead, but it sticks sickeningly permanent in your mind despite your efforts. Looking around, you see the real, alive Harry standing, panting, at the side of the room. You feel a rush of relief at the sight of him alive. 

“D-don’t tell Arthur,” Mrs Weasley chokes, rubbing her eyes desperately with her sleeve. “I d-don’t want him to know…being silly…”

Remus hands her a handkerchief and she blows her nose loudly. 

“Harry, I’m so sorry, what must you think of me?” she says shakily. “Not even able to get rid of a boggart…”

“Don’t be stupid,” Harry says with a weak smile. 

“I’m just s-so worried,” she says, tears streaming down her face. “Half the f-family’s in the Order, it’ll b-be a miracle if we all come through this…and P-Percy’s not talking to us…what if something d-dreadful happens and we had never m-made up? And what’s going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who’s g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?” 

“Molly, that’s enough,” Remus says firmly. “This isn’t like the last time. The Order is better prepared, we’ve got a head start, we know what Voldemort’s up to…”

She gives a squeak of fright at the name. 

“Oh, Molly, come on, it’s about time you got used to hearing it — look, I can’t promise no one’s going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we’re much better off than we were last time. You weren’t in the Order then, you don’t understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one…”

“Don’t worry about Percy,” you add gently. “He’ll come round. He’s still young and he hasn’t gotten the chance to realise that he needs his family more than his job yet.”

“And as for who’s going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died,” Remus says, smiling slightly, “what do you think we’d do, let them starve?”

Mrs Weasley gives a watery smile. “Being silly.”

“Come on, Molly, why don’t you come downstairs and let me make you a cup of tea to help you relax?” you offer soothingly, leading her out of the drawing room. 

When you slip into bed some twenty minutes later, sleep escapes you for quite some time. The image of Harry’s unmoving body burns in your mind, a seed of worry gnawing at your gut. You dream of Harry’s corpse on the drawing room carpet and of Cedric’s lifeless face on the dewy grass of the quidditch pitch.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

-> all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

thank you for all your patience, I know this chapter was a little slower than usual to come out. also sorry to anyone who read like half of this chapter because I accidentally posted it before it was finished and didn't realise for ages. love you all <33

HUGE thank you to my incredible taglist lovelies:

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @hyperspeedo @idkman5335 @elanna-elrondiel @murielisacertifieddilf @penelopied @jennifer0305 @imgondeletedis @wooyoungsrightsock @wolfdragon0424

[20dollarlolita]

My friend is getting some crap on instagram about perceived classism in the lolita community, and as someone who runs a budget-focused lolita fashion blog, I'm going to rehash some of the old "but I can't afford burando!" conversation.

For some background reading, here's where I bought three "lolita" "dresses" off ebay, and what I actually received for my money. And here's a breakdown of one of those specifically. I'm linking to these because I want everyone to remember that the pictures on ebay, amazon, wish, etc do not represent what the actual piece you receive will look like.

Lolita fashion can be expensive, but the less expensive end of legitimate lolita fashion is not actually as expensive as many people think it is. It's not all $300 for a dress and $60 for a pair of socks. There are options that bring the price down to other fashions. It cannot compete with the hyper-fast fashion of Shein and H&M and other places where the clothing is designed to be disposable. This is because lolita clothing is not disposable. Even modified or damaged, lolita fashion pieces have resell value. It's very common for people to be wearing garments that are over ten years old. There's also a lot of documentation about how hyper-fast fashion is damaging to the environments where it's made and the people who made it.

Okay, so that's all very fine and well, but it's true that recognizing that something is worth the money doesn't actually get you the money to buy it. There's a lot of things that I recognize are worth the money it costs to buy them, but that I don't have the money for. I don't drive a high-end electric car, even though I think it would be a better choice for me, because I don't have the money for a high-end electric car. So I do, very distinctly, understand that. I'm not about to tell someone "just save up for it!"

But, when someone tells you that you cannot buy lolita fashion on wish dot com, they're not actually saying "you won't be accepted in a wish dot com dress." They're saying, "any money you spend on a wish dot com dress will be wasted, because you will not receive a usable garment." Let's play pretend for a second. You come up to me with $20 and say, "I'd like to buy clothes." I say, "Good. I'll sell you some clothes." I then take your $20 bill, rip it into small pieces, eat all of the pieces, and say, "that's your clothes." Now, you didn't actually get any clothes from that, and there's no way you're getting your $20 back because I have consumed it. Your friend comes up to me and says, "Hi, I'd like to buy clothes." You say, "Don't give her that $20! It will be a waste of money!" Your friend says, "That's classism, because I only have $20." That's the conversation that's happening right now on my friend's instagram.

Classism does exist in the lolita fashion community. It can even come from people with good intentions. But, when it comes to buying on Ebay and Amazon and Walmart.com, people who are saying, "you can't buy lolita fashion on walmart dot com," aren't saying, "we won't accept your walmart dot com dress, because it was cheap." What they're saying is, "the thing that the site is telling you that you're buying and the thing that you will receive are going to be two different things. The thing you will receive will barely be a garment." There's a reason why, when I say "lolita dress from ebay," I have to typeset it as "'lolita' 'dress' from ebay," because it will probably be neither lolita nor a dress.

If you're new to the fashion and want a good shopping resource, 42lolita is a reseller/shopping service that will tell you what the shipping will be up front. Many other resellers will send you the shipping costs after you make the purchase, which makes it harder to predict what you'll be paying. You won't be getting a dress for $20 on 42lolita or anywhere else, but the prices they charge are more in line with shopping at a department store, rather than shopping at a big name designer store. There's a lot of other ways to purchase lolita fashion, and I just used 42lolita as one example.

The number of people who genuinely want the fashion to be as expensive as possible is not all that big. Even people who occasionally buy a $300 dress enjoy finding inexpensive accessories and support pieces. Finding lolita-usable jewelry on the Walmart clearance rack is a thing that's exciting to most people in the fashion. If there was a secret to buying $20 dresses on ebay and getting something that could be used in the fashion, people in the fashion would absolutely already be doing that.

So anyway, yeah, there's classism in the lolita community, but telling someone that they should not give me $20 for clothes when experience shows that I'm just going to rip it up and eat is not classism. Friends don't let friends spend money on badly made replicas on aliexpress.

[garaksapprentice]

Sewing Zero Waste Culottes from The Craft of Clothes

Zero Waste Culottes From The Craft of Clothes

Behold! Fancy pants!

The pattern for these pants was one of my Christmas gifts. It comes from Liz at The Craft of Clothes, a zero-waste designer. I've really gravitated towards self-drafting and zero-waste sewing in the last couple of years, and this pattern has been on my list for a good six months, so I was excited to get into it.

Drafting

The first step (after reading the pattern through twice) is drafting the pattern pieces.

My biggest starting hurdle was deciphering "the culottes are designed to sit on your waist" when choosing the correct pattern size. Most designers consider "the waist" to be the teapot - that is, the true waist. (It's easiest to find if you bend to the side and stick your hand in the crease - like you're singing "I'm a little teapot".) But some consider belly button height to be "the waist". I generally wear my pants at the latter height, and there's a good 2" circumference difference between those two for me.

I eventually decided to call my belly button my waist, on the grounds that that's where I prefer to wear my pants. It's also easier to take seams in than out, if I guessed wrong.

Decisions over, it was smooth sailing from there. Pattern drafting is not a technically difficult process, as long as you have good instructions, and Liz's patterns definitely fit that bill. But there's a lot of attention to detail required to make sure the end result is good. That sort of thing always makes me nervous. Fortunately there was only two pattern pieces to draft, and they're 98% straight lines and based off rectangles.

Interestingly, this is the first zero-waste pattern I've tried that has you draft pattern pieces to use. The others I've seen (most by the creator of this pattern - our library had a copy of her book, Zero Waste Sewing) have had you draw directly on your piece of fabric to create the layout. (In fairness, I didn't have to draft my own pieces. The pattern came with the option of self-drafting, printing on A4, or printing on A0.)

I much prefer the direct-draw method to faffing about with pattern pieces. But given that this pattern is designed to have the pieces tesselate, having a set of physical pattern pieces does make more sense. It's also got me wondering if I could successfully make a pair out of old jeans legs, using one leg per pattern piece. But then, I'm always looking for ways to use up my denim pile...

Sewing

I prefer structure rather than flow in my butt coverings, so I was somewhat limited in my fabric choices for this first pair. (I know the fabric I really want to use, but I am being a sensible apprentice and trying things out on a nice-but-less-hideously-expensive fabric first.) Most of my stash acquisition has focused on stuff for shirts, since I wear those out faster than pants. I eventually settled on this nice brick red, 100% cotton, table cloth.

The picture is suffering from sun exposure. It's nowhere near this bright in person.

I laid out the pieces and huzzah! The fabric was just big enough! ... But only if I unpicked the hems (they're monsters, a full 3 cm/1.2" each side) and ironed them flat first. Thus, it was time for a marathon unpicking and ironing session.

After that was done, I checked the pattern fit again. Huzzah! I had enough space for all the pattern pieces, and not very much scrap left over once I'd cut them all out. (Of course, it was late and I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have been, so I didn't add an extra inch when I was forced to cut the waistband in two pieces. There was enough extra fabric that this was only an annoyance and not a complete disaster.)

The fabric at the top is scrap. All but a few inches of the stuff on the right became waist bands and plackets.

Sewing was a fairly straightforward exercise, though it required enough brainpower that I completely forgot to take any progress shots as I went. Almost every step of the pattern comes with a diagram to show you what to do, which helped me immensely. So did having the seam allowances specified at each point, as there's three different ones used in different places.

That's not to say I didn't screw up, of course. While sewing the crotch seam, I somehow managed to close up the front of the pants entirely and leave a gap for the placket open at the back. (That will teach me not to double check the direction the pockets are facing before I pin and sew that seam. Maybe.) 

I also made a highly decorative and completely awful to sew with choice for topstitching thread, which I quickly became too stubborn to stop using. So the topstitching is, uh, not great. But it is purple and sparkly, and if I'd had any sense at all I would have left it til last (or even done some sort of hand embroidery with it).

I was tricked by the first line of stitching being so easy. LIES. It was all lies.

Why should I have left it til last? Because it turns out that the culottes are, in fact, designed to sit on one's true waist. Which meant I had a two inch difference between what I needed to fit me, and what the waist measurement was. If I hadn't top stitched the panels, I could have simply ran another line of stitching down the seams that didn't have pockets in the way, and taken the waist in without much fuss or bother. Unfortunately, I didn't do that, so I was left with two choices.

Take out the topstitching and take in all the panels, bitching and moaning about the effort I went to and the number of times the topstitch thread broke while I was sewing the stupid sparkly goodness onto things.

Work out how to take the waist in by the necessary two inches, using only the crotch seam and maybe some darts or pleats or something.

Choice #1 would have been the logical, rational decision, so of course I went with option #2.

An hour and change of basting, pinning and unpinning the waistband, and completely forgetting how seam allowances work later, I managed to get a fit I was happy enough with. I ended up grading in a dart-like object at the centre back. (If I decide later that I'm not happy with the fit after all, I'll try out the modification for adding elastic to the back waistband that the pattern also includes. Probably while questioning my life choices and lamenting the amount of time I spend with a seam ripper in hand.)

The original stitching line is in blue, the new one is in black.

After all that fitting woe, I wasn't in the mood to try buttonholes (my good machine, the one with the automatic buttonholer, is currently out of action). Instead I dove into my snap stash to close the placket.

I love using bright, vivid colours for inner details. It's the sewing equivalent of wearing leopard print underwear.

A nice bonus of using the snaps is that I could put them through just the placket, leaving the fly front clean. This did make the placket pull slightly when I'm wearing the pants, exposing a trace of bright red. I fixed that by invisibly whip-stitching through the placket and outer fabric to hold everything in place. Next time I'll also double check the understitching, and topstitch the edge if needed, before installing the snaps.

Field Test and Adjustments

Trying stuff on as you go is all well and good, but nothing tells you what you really need to fix like being out in the field. I quickly discovered several things:

The waistband needs serious help to stay where it's supposed to be. Which, y'know, I did make a size larger than I should have. This was not surprising.

The crotch needs to either drop a wee bit or (preferably) rise a couple of inches. The latter will likely spoil the skirt-effect somewhat, but it will be far more comfortable for my legs.

I need a loop on the waistband to hold my keys.

For the waist woes, I had a few choices - 1) belt loops, 2) suspenders, or 3) add elastic to the back waistband. Belt loops are fiddly to make and sew on, but would solve the key-hanging issue. Suspenders technically wouldn't need any sewing changes, but the clip-on style are notorious for pulling off when you're doing things. And while the pattern includes instructions for adding elastic to the waistband, I wasn't confident it would do the job I wanted (I stick a fair amount of junk in my pockets and elastic can't always cope with the weight).

After some dithering, I went with the suspender option for this pair. I like the look of them, and the "floating" effect they give when they pull the waistband a bit above where gravity wants it to sit is extremely comfortable. But I didn't want to deal with clips always popping off. So I indulged in a quick side-quest of improving my suspenders, then sewed buttons into the waistband of the culottes.

This used to hold the clips, but the wire was easy to bend flat with needle-nose pliers.

Gee, I wonder which buttonhole I did first?

Fashion Show

Overall, I'm quite happy with how it all came together. I'll definitely be making at least two more pairs - the "men's" version (less flare in the hems), likely out of recycled denim, and a pair in heavyweight stash linen.

The back panel adjustment is basically unnoticeable.

They have great range of movement - maybe I need to make a workout pair?

And I even have somewhere to hang my keys.

This post was originally published on my blog, Garak's Apprentice . I currently syndicate my content at Micro.blog, Tumblr, and Ko-Fi.

or Tip me via PayPal

[0rb0t]

my problem is that I like my ships best if they maintain as much of their canon personalities as possible.

If they bicker or fight or are prickly in canon, I'm okay with them doing that as a ship, too! It feels natural!

With sonadow, I hadn't shipped them in a while because I hated how Shadow's personality had become from the 2010s until like. Sonic Prime. Shadow ISN'T a bully!!! He fights AGAINST bullies. He can get competitive but usually only with Sonic. He's serious, he doesn't quite get small talk or some sayings, and his resting face LOOKS PISSED but he's just standing there.

I loved Sonic Boom as an AU, but when Shadow's personality became that in the main continuity, I was devastated. It felt like the executives took a character so beloved by us shy people, looked at his superficial design and went "Yeah this guy is an edgy dickhead"

We didn't call him edgy because of his design or attitude, we called him that because his narrative was SO MUCH DARKER than Sonic's or anyone else's. But that became the norm, everything became about Shadow being an edgelord asshole who threatens people and calls them weak and pathetic. He went from some guy who was dedicated to saving the world and keeping the peace to some jerkoff who'd tell people to kys all the time. And I was so, so sad.

And then Sonic Prime happened. And I was afraid at first to try to open my heart to the writing, because Shadow had been done dirty SO MANY TIMES...

But suddenly, Sonic AND Shadow, AND THEIR DYNAMIC was GOT. It's like they UNDERSTOOD. I'm still not a fan of the idea of Shadow not having friends, but it feels more like he doesn't have friends because he's afraid of that vulnerability RATHER THAN because he's being written as a bully.

AND IT BRINGS A TEAR OF JOY TO MY EYE. My awkward baby was back, the guy who focused on the mission so hard he'd miss the finer details at times. But also, the guy who cares SO MUCH but can't express it properly for the LIFE of him.

The guy who grabs others by the hand to pull them forward, to run WITH them. Who keeps warning Sonic not to trust so blindly because he is WORRIED about not just the consequences of the big picture, but also what that will do to his friend.

Sonic being too busy being sassy and playful that he can't realize that this IS Shadow caring, it's just not as open or casual or bubbly as his other friends. Shadow can't do that; it's just not the way he is. He's more stiff, he hates attention, he'd rather be in the background, he comes across as awkward when he's trying to be cool or serious.

But he actually seems to RELAX a bit around Sonic, and they work SO WELL together. Their personalities are TOTAL OPPOSITES but they ALWAYS attract. Magnetized together.

And it feels SO GOOD to see that understood, and written GENUINELY. AFTER 15 YEARS OF SEGA GETTING IT WRONG, we're finally giving Shadow his integrity and core BACK!!!!

And I prefer seeing ship art of them that reflects this. I used to draw so much sonadow back in the day, but I just don't anymore. Maybe I can get back into it, since I'm still too picky about fanon sonadow.

But GOD does it feel GOOD to see my boys respected narratively again!!!!

[pink-apollo]

Task force with S/O that have big breast please?

AHHHH. I saw this and got sooo excited😭 As a gal that has double Ds it can be such a pain. Buttons busting open, shirts tight in certain areas, just a struggle ;-; but they make wonderful pillows!

Wasn’t sure who you wanted so I added my main 3. If you want price and gaz let me know ^^ Also I am so sorry if Simon is very ooc, I’m trying to go with his current self and exactly pin point it which I find to be a little difficult😅

——————————————————————————

Task force with large chested S/O Headcanons

🎀Soap is a cheeky guy, we all know this. Of course he loves you for you! Not just looks! But at times he can’t but to just…stare. He knows it can be rude and weird, but when they’re right there in his face he can’t help it

🎀You could be mid conversation, babbling away at something you were talking about and John would be sitting there eyeing you up, tuning out what you were saying only to be met with your chest in his face as you looked at the man red from getting caught

🎀He means well, honest! But will try every chance he gets to grab them or lay on your chest because of how comfortable it is. A “perfect pillow” as he would say

🎀Purposely buys shirts that are rather a bit too tight for you. Although you may think it doesn’t look good, soap on the other hand is taking mental pictures to remember how you fit into the shirt

🎀Loves to feel you pressed up against him. Yes for the contact because he does enjoy it! But to also feel all of you and be a little more intimate

🎀In general loves to hold them. His thumb gentle rubbing your nipples to piss you off or to tease depending on the mood. But for the most part holds them, massaging them as he leans on your back , leaving trails of kisses along your shoulder to neck

🎀Is basically a child in a candy store

Ghost

🍁Simon is…well let’s say more sneaky than soap is when it comes to taking peaks. No, he doesn’t do it often, but if you just so happen to wear a shirt that fits just right and shows a bit of cleavage? He can’t help himself but to look, especially if he’s taller than you

🍁Although he does enjoy them, he’s more so focused on your other needs. Like if your back hurts or in general breasts are achey to to your hormones. He doesn’t mind whatsoever focusing on making you feel better before anything else happens. Your comfort comes first

🍁Notices every little detail when you move. Purposely walks behind or in front of you so he doesn’t glance down to see you walking with your chest slightly bouncing. Steps? Won’t say anything, but are his weakness when it comes to you. Thank god for the mask

🍁If you ask him to hold them he will. Might be a little unsure of how exactly to please you, again when it comes to physical things, Simon needs a little bit of guidance! He just wants to do right and to be sure you’re okay. But oddly enough finds it to be a stress reliever for himself

🍁Is very gentle with them in the beginning. Gives kisses all over before nibbling and leaving marks all over your chest. Caressing them with his hands, ever so softly pinching them to hear you sweak

🌹When it comes to you? This man looses all train of thought. With every step you take towards him, he can’t help but to look down. You know it’s his weakness and sometimes use it to your advantage, but other times simply oblivious to the fact that he was staring

🌹Alejandro tries his best to a gentleman, but can’t help but to glide his hands over your chest when alone sitting on his lap, squeezing them from pent up sexual tension that you caused

🌹Of course he always asks for permission regardless of how long you’ve been together. He just needs to know what kind of mood your in before he does

🌹Certainly loves when you straddle him and just hold him or perhaps ride him. Not only an amazing sight, but just being close to you is one of his many favorite things

🌹Lays on your chest very often! Just so squishy and comfortable to lay on! Has fallen asleep quite a few times on your chest, with his hand up your shirt on your breast. Could lay like that forever if you allowed him to do so

[xeno828]

IS VI THE SHERIFF?!?

I would normally say I'm late to the party but I've been researching for far too long and realized barely ANYONE has noticed this!!

So looking at the season 2 trailer for Arcane, everyone seemed to focus on the fact Vi has become an enforcer. But look at this badge that the camera focuses on...

Call me mad, but that isn't just an enforcer badge, that's the SHERIFF'S BADGE!!!!

If you compare the regular enforcer uniform (which ngl is annoying to do cus there seem to be SO many different versions!) they do all have 1 thing in common, the lack of this badge. Some do have a symbol on their belts but it's different from this one, a lot simpler and seems to be a belt decoration/buckle more than an official badge.

But guess which uniforms we DO see with this badge, Grayson and Marcus, both only wearing it while holding the title of Sheriff!

Seriously, compare Grayson and Marcus's badge to the other enforcers!

I'll concede, you could argue that since this is the symbol for Piltover as a whole that it is just to represent the Enforcers in general. But then my question is, why are Grayson and Marcus the only ones wearing this symbol if that is the case?

The only other time we see an enforcer with this specific badge design is when Caitlyn is crossing the bridge back into Piltover and gets stopped by the barricade. But notice this badge is silver, whereas Grayson, Marcus, and Vi, all have gold badges. Looks an indication of status. Regular enforcers carry silver badges while the higher ups have gold ones on display 24/7.

Honestly, the way these badges are presented on each character can also line up with the individual person. If this is true it's a really cool snippet of storytelling through character design.

Looking at Grayson, her badge is big, front and center, she's showing it off. Grayson is proud of what she does and of her status, she earned her title through her own hard work and desire to protect the city.

Marcus's badge is slightly smaller and a bit more off to the side. He is the Sheriff and wants that to be known so, he will use that to his advantage so he doesn't hide his badge. But he is ashamed of how he got the title and is ashamed of himself. He's got what he wanted but has dug a hole for himself so deep that he can't crawl out of it, the only thing he has to show for his efforts is a badge won through blood shed and lies.

Vi's is WAY smaller than both and nearly unnoticeable on her belt to the left side. She has hated the Enforcers and topside her whole life, and now shes found herself becoming one. Oh the misery!! (Sorry!) She doesn't want to be here but feels she has too due to everything that is going on; Jinx, Zaun, Caitlyn, etc. She ended up with this position out of necessity rather than ambition or desire. Her hiding the badge away, the evidence of her 'betrayal' to the Under City, shows how reluctant she is to be doing this. She is only wearing that badge out of needing to comply with the rules that come with being Sheriff. And probably as soon as the job is done she'll toss the thing aside (which also works with the cannon cus that'll probs be how Caitlyn ends up being Sheriff like she is in game).

This entire concept is just SO fascinating to me, all the signs are there but the trailer made us so focused on Vi becoming an enforcer AT ALL that we all missed the other clues. It's a perfect example of misdirection and hiding the truth right under your nose. In the trailer we hear Caitlyn planning a strike team, sounding very in charge. When she is standing by Vi and their team she holds herself high, looking very much like a leader compared to Vi's resigned look and slightly deflated stance. Easily making us think she is the new Sheriff already - notice as well in this picture that neither Cair nor the rest of this team have any badges at all on display with their uniforms (would include a pic but I've reached the limit for this post!!!).

A good chunk of people already know that in game Vi is an enforcer and partner to Sheriff Caitlyn, the show makers know this is the assumption people will be making for season 2 and so went to imply this in the trailer without specifically stating it. Only leaving a few breadcrumbs suggesting we're all looking the wrong way.

I could be stretching here and be completely wrong, but if so PLEASE explain to me why only these 3 people are seen with this damn badge!!!!!

If this is true it's a pretty damn cool way to misdirect and subverse expectations to start off season 2.

[controlmyfeet]

i still feel everything when you are near - matty healy

matty healy x ex!reader

angst

warnings: exes, alcohol consumption, insecurities, jealousy (kinda?), pining, kissing, crying (lmk if there’s more i need to add!)

a/n: not sure about this. i think the last time i tried to write fanfiction i was 13, so feedback is appreciated but pls be nice lol. also, english is not my first language!

3570 words

it still hurts. 

i didn't think it would hurt as much after 6 months, but seeing him in the flesh makes me realize it does. i thought i was already used to it, thought i was actually doing a good job moving on, if we ignore my slump in the first 3 weeks after the breakup, where i would just leave the house for work and groceries (that i would overbuy because i forgot i'd just cook for myself), i think i was doing pretty okay.

i should've guessed he would be in the city. he can't stay in one place for too long; if he has a few days free in between shows, he's going to look for a studio to work in. usually in london, los angeles, or here. most of the time, he ends up here.

but i never know where he is anymore.

i deleted twitter from my phone after 2 months. maybe because of the questions, perhaps because i didn't care, or maybe i was tired of reading all the tabloids and fearing they were true. maybe i care too much. whatever, right? it just means i haven't seen him in a while, even in pictures.

i'm sitting by the dark wooden bar counter when i first spot him. he's standing with charli and george in the vip section near the dj booth, surrounded by people as always. my friends noticed that he's here too, but they haven't said anything, which i'm grateful for. i'd rather pretend it doesn't affect me.

he looks different, though. his arms are bigger, and his hair is longer; soft curls fall over big brown eyes that crinkle whenever george says something funny. he still has that boyish smile.

lulu and bea went dancing and i said i'd join them in a minute. we go to this club every time we're in the city, but tonight it is more crowded than usual. my secluded spot at the bar being the only place i won't be pushed around. still, i feel bad. it's my best friend's birthday, and we came to new york together to celebrate, but instead, i'm drowning my sorrows with cosmos. 

"you won't even say hi now?" i hear matty's voice from behind me and turn around, startled. he stands tall and confident as always, but his eyes no longer hold the same energy. here, up close, i can see that his eyebags look more prominent, and his stubble has grown slightly. he looks tired. i don't think i look any better.

"hi," i say, looking into his brown orbs, phlegmatic, as if the butterflies in my stomach aren't going batshit crazy right now "i didn't see you, sorry."

he grins cheekily, "it's alright, darling."

i don't really know what to say. he should hate me, honestly. it wouldn't be surprising considering how we left things, with all the yelling, name calling. with all the broken picture frames. it started with another rumor while he was on tour, another leaked picture. he was so dismissive and vague about it that i just couldn't find it in myself to trust him, and he could only complain about how childish all of it was.

i guess he doesn't, though. they have free drinks inside the vip section. i remember it from when we came here together. he doesn't need to come all the way to the bar for a drink.

"it-it's good to see you," i stutter, apprehensive now. fearing that maybe he really does hate me, and just walked over to tell me how much so. i mean, i would hate him, too, if i could. but no matter how hard i try, i can't. and believe me, i've tried.

matty is standing so close that the loud music sounds muffled now, and the warm, dim light of the bar reflecting on his silky skin makes me want to melt into his arms. so i try to keep my eyes focused on my feet.

he seems to notice that i'm struggling as i fidget with my empty glass.

"can i get you another one?" he asks amicably. my eyes shift from my feet to the glass in my hands and back to his eyes.

"sure," i reply shyly.

he asks a bartender polishing wine glasses next to us for another cosmopolitan. behind the man, shelves from the same material as the counter hold a collection of glass bottles of different colors with labels sporting french and italian names. matty sits on the barstool beside mine. "so…what are you doing here in new york? i thought you hated the city this time of the year." 

and it's true, i hate new york during the summer. the concrete buildings seem to make the temperature much higher, and tourists crowd every corner. it feels claustrophobic. the subway also smells extra bad during these months. but i loved being here with him, no matter the season. i loved being anywhere with him.

"well, yeah. but it's lulu's birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it here, so here we are. the three of us." 

"bea is here too?"

"she is, yeah."

him talking about my friends is familiar. many sunday evenings were spent on his couch sharing a bottle of red with my newest candle burning on the side. at the same time, i'd tell him about the most recent gossip in my friend group, and he would listen.

the barman places the new drink before me and takes the empty glass. i thank him and take a sip of the pink liquid. it's sweet and sour, and the vodka calms my nerves a little bit. he's staring at my lips. so i lick them clean.

he shifts, and suddenly, i feel his calloused fingertips brush against my elbow resting comfortably over the counter. much more tender than last time; my skin burns where he touches it.

"how's your writing going?" he asks, looking into my eyes now.

i tell him i'm still at the magazine, it's going alright. not a lot has changed since we broke up. but it's less exciting, more monotonous. i leave that part out. and he asks me about my own stuff, poems and essays hidden in my drafts.

it's just awkward small talk. so awkward. like we're just acquaintances. friends of friends being left alone, being civil to each other.

it's also a conversation we've had before. documents on my computer that weren't fitting enough for the editors or that i just wrote on a whim. he used to tell me to publish them either way, to leave the magazine and find people who actually appreciate my work, or to start my own thing. but it would be useless; they're not good enough.

"well, i don't know, it's been a while since i've written anything out of work." i take another sip, just to calm down a little. "haven't felt very inspired lately." 

oh my god, shut up– i can't say this to my ex. it's embarrassing, pitiful.

"it happens." he takes my hand and brushes his thumb over my knuckles. i still shiver "you're really talented, love. you should be proud of yourself. i am."

even his praise hurts now; i miss hearing it daily. it's a stab in my chest, salt on the wound. so i just bite my lip and nod. afraid that if i say something, a choked sob will come out. 

there's longing in his eyes, and he gets a look like he wants to say more. but his gaze flickers behind me for a moment, and he drops my hand and gives my left shoulder a squeeze, showing me a soft smile. 

"i'll leave you be, then. it was nice seeing you, love."

there's a voice in the back of my head begging me to make him stay, but i know i can't do that, not when i recall why it ended the way it did. still, i want to reach for his hand and pull him back to me, just for a few minutes at least. but someone grips my shoulders.

"there you are!" lulu says excitedly, already a few drinks ahead of me. her dark blonde hair messy and her skin glimmering with sweat from all the dancing. bea follows right behind her. "c'mon, let's do some shots, you need to power up for all the dancing you owe me."

"alright." i force a giggle and down my drink as bea asks the bartender for three tequila shots.

a few minutes and many shots later, the three of us are on the dance floor, swaying wildly to the loud, thumping bass of whatever music the dj's playing. just being around my girls makes me feel less anxious, and the flashing lights, plus all the alcohol already flowing through my body are making my mind a bit hazy, which helps me let loose a little. 

as i move, i can feel the beat of the music inside my chest, sweaty bodies pushing against me without a care. i even forget about matty for a minute. i don't think about how his hands used to feel on me when we danced together, not at all.

we dance for maybe 30 minutes. until lulu finds one of her many ex-flings, and, as they catch up, bea asks me to go to the bathroom with her. taking my hand, she leads me out of the crowded area and towards the door labeled "ladies' room". 

the contrast from the mostly dark club to the bathroom's white walls makes my eyes squint. it's colder in here, quieter. i can hear the stifled bass from the music and high heels clicking against the floor tiles.

as i wait for bea, i brace myself on the sink in front of me and look into the mirror. everything is happening too fast. talking to matty, downing shots, and being dragged to the dance floor immediately. my head is pounding. i didn't have the time to process what is going on tonight. 

my ears are ringing, and it feels like all the alcohol has suddenly lost all its effect. instantly sobering up, i grab a paper towel and dab it on my arms and face to try to get rid of the sweat. turning on the sink, i wet my hands and place them on the back of my neck to cool down and try to help with the dizziness. i hear the toilet flush, and bea comes out of the cubicle, running her hands through her wavy black hair. i reach into my purse and pull out my lipgloss, coating my lips evenly while looking at myself in the mirror.

"i'm going to the back for a bit," i tell bea as she approaches the sink next to me.

"you okay? do you need water?" she asks, concerned

"yea- yes, i just need to breathe a little."

"okay, text me if you need anything." i just nod and leave the bathroom. she knows me, knows i need to be alone.

pushing through crowded bodies, i head to the club's back door, leading to a narrow alleyway where the employees usually store extra liquor bottles. it also doubles as a smoking area, so i shouldn't be surprised when i see him as soon as i open the door. tattooed arms flexing as he lights a cigarette, probably not his first one of the night, and i turn back to try to leave before he sees me.

"leaving so soon?" i turn around again and already feel my cheeks heating up. embarrassed, like a kid caught eating dessert before dinner. "you can stay."

"it's okay, i'll go somewhere else," i wave him off mindlessly. he came here to enjoy his cig on his own, right? he doesn't need his ex-girlfriend plaguing his chill alone time "i don't want to bother you, i just need some air."

"please stay." it's not the first time he says this, but this time i do. 

with pink-tinged cheeks and heels clicking loudly, i slowly walk down the three small steps in front of the door and move to stand across him with my back resting against the club's brick wall. the warm summer air hits my skin, and i can hear the rustle of the traffic. "you could never bother me." i pretend i didn't hear him.

"i thought you were quitting," i motion to the burning cigarette between his fingers. the moonlight illuminated the alleyway, making the smoke around him look like some kind of silver aura. he smiles at me.

"i'm trying," he says, taking a drag and blowing it out by the side of his mouth, and i laugh.

"it sure looks like it," i reply, still smiling. i'm not as nervous as i expected i would be in this situation; maybe the alcohol hasn't worn off as much as i thought.

he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "well, you know me".

my eyes follow his every movement, long, calloused fingers holding the rolled paper limply and bringing it up to his red, pouty lips. i start to fidget with the end of my skirt, trying to distract myself by looking at how my fingers twist the fabric. busying myself, so i don't remember how those same lips used to feel against my own or on the curve between my neck and shoulder. 

i look up again when i hear matty step on his cigarette– putting it out– and he starts to walk in my direction. my breath hitches. we are face to face now, noses almost touching. closer than we were at the bar. i can see every freckle on his face when he's this close. i can see the chapped corner of his mouth and the grey that's starting to show up on his now tousled hair.

"why did you leave?" he's straight to the point. his voice comes out low, almost a whisper. at our position, there's no need to be louder than that. there's no hatred in his tone; still, he's not smiling. a flash of hurt appears on his face for a moment. "didn't i make you happy?"

"of course you did, matty." i build the courage to look into his eyes, honey pouring out of them. "we've already talked about this."

he lifts his right hand to rest it on the wall beside my head while letting out a scoff. "but i don't get it," his tone is a little bit louder now. he's not aggressive, but he's not whispering anymore. "what happened?"

"it was for the best." i've stopped whispering too. i place my hands on my forehead. as if to avert the impending headache that will follow this conversation. i don't really know what happened either or when it started happening. i feel sweat droplets running down my hairline, not sure if it's from the summer heat, our closeness, or my disquietude. 

"for the best of who?" he questions, lifting an eyebrow, "i don't feel any better!"

"we were fighting all the time, you know this!" there's a lump in my throat, and i can already feel the pressure between my eyes, working hard so the tears don't fall. i lower my voice again. "it was only a matter of time until one of us left, i just left first."

his gaze softens– probably after seeing my flooding waterline– and it's a while before he talks again, as if he's gathering his thoughts. thinking before he speaks for once, "i could never leave you" it's a low, gravely whisper, and i probably wouldn't have heard it if we weren't this close. "i wish you'd stayed." 

it's a blow to my chest. like a gunshot, blood running down my ribcage. and for a second, i don't think i can breathe.

"i wish you'd done a lot of things, matty." my vision is blurry now, and i feel a single tear roll down my right cheek. i wish he would answer my calls when he stayed late at the studio. i wish he would listen to me when i said i felt neglected. i wish he would give me more security when i felt jealous of the girls partying with him and the boys while i was on the other side of the pond. i wish i stayed. when i can't sleep because i suddenly realize that my bed is too cold, too empty. when i wake up, and there are no kisses on my bare shoulder. when i have to climb over my kitchen counter to reach the can of pasta sauce on the top shelf. when i'm so anxious, and there's no one to hold me… "sometimes i wish i stayed too." 

slowly, his hands cup my jaw. long fingers run lightly across my skin and wipe the lonely tear on my face. the hairs on my neck straighten up, and my heart stirs, beating a little faster. he carefully traces his right thumb over my lower lip, giving me time to reject and push him away. and then, his soft lips lock on mine. no warning. i feel his stubble rub against my chin and let out a sigh. there's a flutter on my lower stomach, burning. i should have pushed him away. instead, my fingers trail up his neck, nails brushing against his skin, and finally into his hair as he coaxes his hot tongue into my mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, of course. i can also taste the rum and lime from the mojito he had earlier. one of his hands travels down and he pulls me by the waist, bodies touching fully now. matty groans into my liquored mouth and i preen; it's good to know i still have that effect on him. that i can still make him let out those pretty sounds with just a kiss. it might be selfish, but we both are. because i bet he's proud too, that every touch of his still sends shivers down my spine. i pull out for air first, lungs already starting to burn. my fingers are still buried in his curls as he rests his forehead on mine, both breathing heavily.

"i need you, love," he whispers against my kiss-swollen lips, voice cracking. there's a smudge of lipgloss on the side of his mouth. it was no use reapplying it.

"matty, i can't," my voice comes out weak, just like how i feel.

"why not? you got somebody?" matty frowns, starting to sound a bit agitated.

i shake my head lightly "i don't."

"what is it?"  

"i already told you" it's my turn to cup his face now, scuff prickling against my palms. "we already had this fight before, you get annoyed because i can't trust you, and i start yelling because you don't take me seriously!"

"of course i take you seriously!" he defends, already becoming increasingly exasperated. i just shake my head; there's no use going through this all over again. it hurt enough the first time. however, i still close my eyes, knowing that if i keep looking at him, the chances of me believing him are higher.

"i'm not built for this, matty," for being away from him, for time zones and phone calls, for pretty girls throwing themselves all over him "i'm not strong enough."

"look at me, baby." his hands moved from my waist up to cup my face again, thumb brushing lightly over my cheekbones. "please," i open my eyes.

"do you love me?" he asks. i realize his eyes are glossed over now "because i love you. so fucking much."

it will be easier if i say no, break his heart all at once. give him a reason to give up. it takes me a while, but i nod.

"yeah?" there's a glimmer of hope on his wet iris.

"i do, but-"

"then we'll figure it out" it's not that simple; just figuring it out is not enough. we hurt each other.

"we'll just end up in the same place, matty," i explain firmly. at this point, tears stream both of our faces. his chest heaves, and i try to contain another sob. he turns his face slightly to press his lips to my palm, just for a second. 

"stay with me, please." our noses touch, and i can no longer distinguish his tears from mine. "i'll do better, i swear."

"it's not going to work."

"just for tonight at least, please," it comes out ragged, and he grazes his lips on mine, leaving a gentle but salty peck. "just for a little bit."

this shouldn't be happening. it's a mess, all of it. no matter how hard or how many times we try, even if we start all over again, we'll just end up in the same place. i know how i am and how he is. our love is tainted, a ticking bomb. so no matter how much i love him, how much i want him, i know we'll just go back to those screaming matches and broken pictures.

but if we keep doing this again and again, maybe then we won't have to say goodbye. at least i won't have to spend an entire lifetime missing him. so maybe just one night won't hurt, right? i've done it a million times. staying for just a little bit won't hurt…i think.

okay, just for a little bit.