#I had enough inspo for bee

[corxoran]

[forever-rogue]

OMG TASM INSPO OKAY OKAY!

I saw this prompt a while ago that said: one small kiss before fully devouring the other person and I thought it would be perfect for pining idiots Peter and r. Maybe they dare them to kiss at a party or they get tipsy enough to be very affectionate which leads to the kiss. But then one of them is like shit I ruined our friendship and ghosts the other until they talk and get back together and kiss again 🥰

AN | If there is one thing I love it’s blind fools in love! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 4.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He was so pretty like this.

Wild, unruly hair, plush lips, pink cheeks and eyes like rich honey. 

“What’re you lookin’ at, huh?” he reached over and brushed a lock of your behind your ear, so close that you could smell the sweet alcohol that lingered on his lips. Your heart skipped a few beats at the tender touch; it was nothing new but every one of his touches felt like the first time. He rested his palm against your cheek as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “you’re being weird.”

“Nuh uh,” you narrowed your eyes at him but your weak attempt at being serious did nothing for him. Instead he laughed, a sugary sweet sound you wanted to bottle up and keep as yours and yours only forever, “you’re being weird, Pete.”

“Whatever you say,” his long, lithe fingers ghosted along your jaw before he retracted his touch. You missed the warmth of his skin on yours almost immediately, “I think you’re drunk.”

“Shut up,” you groaned and finished the last bit of the hard cider in your bottle. You were so far from drunk, having nursed the same bottle over the last hour and a half just as he had with his beer. Neither of you were even tipsy, just enough to feel a slight buzz in your bones, let alone drunk, “‘m not. Just tired of you.”

“That’s a lie,” he whispered as you nodded meekly. You could never lie to him, or even fool him in the slightest. He’d been your best friend for almost a decade; he knew you better than anyone ever had.

“It’s a lie,” you confirmed, shifting your gaze away from him. You looked around the room, trying to focus on literally anyone else at the party. Unfortunately, no one else seemed to capture your attention - at least not as much as Peter Parker did. You could feel his gaze trained on you, and part of you was worried for a moment that he was almost able to hear every single thought you had running through your mind. You turned back and immediately felt your warm up, “Pete?”

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, voice so soft that your ears were playing tricks on you. When you saw the quiet and determined expression on his face you could tell that you had actually heard what you thought you’d heard.

“What?” you’d leaned in closer, inadvertently, but found yourself inches away from the pretty boy. The corner of his mouth tipped up in a very Peter-esque smile - that your smile. You wanted to bottle it up and keep it safe in your heart forever. You huffed when he just stared at you like you were magic, “Peter. What did you say?”

“C’mon Bee,” you could hear the subtle groan in his voice, “you heard me. I want to kiss you.”

“Why?” your brows knitted together in confusion; you were so ridiculously cute especially with the way your nose scrunched, “me? Pete, you’re just drunk.”

“Yeah you,” an incredulous huff escaped his lips. How? How did you not know that he was in love with you? Especially since he’d fallen for you days into your friendship so many years ago, “I like you, you know. And I’m not drunk. Not in the slightest.”

“Of course you do,” he was drunk. He had to be despite his insistence that he wasn’t. Right? You swallowed thickly, “you’re my best friend.”

“No, you don’t…” he put a hand on your neck, his thumb brushing along the soft skin under your ear, “I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

“Okay,” your voice was so small it was basically a squeak, but it was enough to set him at ease to actually do what he’d been dreaming of for so long.

Peter closed the small gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours - softly at first, questioning and learning. When you didn’t panic or pull away. He deepened the kiss, earning a small moan from you. That sound made electricity shoot throughout his entire body; he wanted more, he wanted it all. All your sounds just for him. 

Before you let it get too far, you pulled back, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and taking his hand away. Peter stopped immediately and looked at your in surprise and… hurt? on his face. You held up your hands, both of them shaking, your mouth opening and closing a few times as you searched for the right words.

“Bee?”

“I-I can’t do this,” you scooted your chair back and stood up, shaking your head, “this was a mistake. I’m sorry, Peter. I gotta go.”

You grabbed your bag and started to push your way through the throng of crowds to leave. Peter had jumped up to his feet and attempted to follow you, “wait - Bee!”

But you didn’t wait. By the time he got to the door, you were already long gone. He sighed heavily, banging his head against the wall as he tried to figure out what he did wrong. But, he figured, he’d give you space tonight and then check on you tomorrow. Surely this was all just…a misunderstanding. 

Surely you felt the same things he did. He’d been wishing for nothing else for so long.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter’s hopes that he would be able to talk to you and get to the bottom of what was going on were quickly dashed the next. 

He didn’t hear a peep from you - but it wasn’t for the lack of trying. He texted and called and even showed up at your apartment to no avail. In reality you’d received and read every text, sent every call to voicemail, and ignored his knocking. You just couldn’t face Peter, not today…make not ever. 

You were still trying to put all the pieces of what had happened together. He’d told you that he liked you and that he wanted to kiss you. 

And then he did exactly that. 

But it didn’t make sense. Peter Parker was your best friend, and best friends definitely didn’t kiss like that. He said he wasn’t drunk but there couldn't be any other reason, right? Why else would he suddenly want to kiss you? Part of you was afraid that you’d taken advantage of Peter to get what you wanted. Of course you wanted to kiss him; you’d been in love with him for years. Instead of risking anything, you’d kept yourself thoroughly in the best friend zone. You’d rather pine for him and suppress those feelings and keep him in your life, than potentially risk losing him completely. 

Life without Peter Park wasn’t anything you wanted to experience. 

And in a few moments of inhibition, you might have ruined everything after all. You couldn’t face him ever again. The thought of that alone was enough to make you want to curl up and cry. 

You were being dramatic…you knew you were. You needed something - someone - logical to keep you from spiraling. Grabbing your phone, you quickly found her contact and called her, pacing around as you waited for her to answer.

“MJ,” you let out a sigh of relief when she picked up after a few rings, “I did something bad. Can you come over?”

You heard her sweet laugh on the other side, “of course. I’ll be there in twenty? Shall I bring a bottle of wine?”

“Yes please,” you rubbed at your forehead, “two bottles if you have it.”

“On my way!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Little did you know, MJ was already way ahead of you. She was already well aware of what had happened; Peter had called her, close to tears, about an hour beforehand. He was quick to spill his guts out to her, trying to make sense of everything…and definitely panicking that he’d never see you again.

MJ, meanwhile, was terribly amused at the panic both of you were displaying. She was well aware that the two of you were in love with each other, even if you the two of you weren’t aware. To be fair…everyone was aware but the two of you. It was so obvious to anyone that spent even a moment around you that you were in love. Somehow that just didn’t get through to you - not yet but Mary Jane Watson was determined to finally get you both to realization and clarity. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hi honey,” MJ let herself into your apartment with the key you’d given her long ago. You raised your hand and gave her a small wave from where you were curled up on the couch, buried under a heap of blankets. She set the bottles of wine down on the coffee table before raising an eyebrow at you, “and just what do we call this?”

“It’s calling wallowing,” you huffed, sitting up and looking at her with an upset expression on your face, “I fucked up.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” she insisted softly before going into the kitchen and grabbing a couple of wine glasses and a bottle opener. You made room for her on the couch, and sat down next to you, carefully opening a bottle and pouring a couple of glasses. You picked yours up and clinked it against hers, “cheers. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“Peter,” you took a huge drink before allowing yourself to look at the giant grin on MJ’s face, “it’s Peter.”

“And…what about Peter?” she was prying, gently doing so, but curious to know. If there was someone that knew Peter almost as well as you it was her. She’d dated him for a few years in high school after all, “what did he do? And/or what did you do?”

You sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly just as you’d learned in yoga class. You pinched the bridge of your nose before setting your glass down and angling your body closer to her, “hekissedme.”

“Pardon?” oh, she’d heard you loud and clear and you both knew it.

“Peter kissed me,” you said more slowly, letting the words wash over you as the memories of last night popped, “and I…kissed him back.”

MJ was practically giddy with excitement, barely holding back her smile. She was definitely the president, vice-president, secretary, and treasurer of the ‘you and Peter fanclub.’ She took another sip of her drink before setting the glass down and reached for one of your hands, “and what’s the problem with that? The two of you are clearly in love! It’s about time one of you made a move!”

“What?” you tilted your head to the side and looked at her in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“Oh my god,” she threw her head back with a loud groan, “how are you so smart and dumb at the same time?!”

“MJ-”

“I know how you feel about Peter,” you’d confessed your love and adoration for your best friend many times - tipsy, drunk, and sober. And it wasn’t like either of you did anything to hide it. You huffed and looked at her like a lost little puppy, “and I know how he feels about you. I’m not sure what the problem is…”

“Peter doesn’t….he was drunk.”

“Peter doesn’t get drunk,” she raised her eyebrows in a sort of tell me I’m wrong expression, “but what exactly led to him finally making a move?”

“We were at that party at Beth’s and we were just hanging out and talking. I’d had a few drinks and he did too,” ugh. The way he’d looked at you was like something else, “and later on he told me he wanted to kiss me. I asked him why and he just sort of…made it seem like it was obvious. I asked if he was drunk but he said no and I don’t…fuck, I don’t know.”

“It is obvious, all things aside,” she waved her hand, “but if he says he wasn’t drunk, what’s wrong? Was it bad?”

“No. No,” it was anything but bad. In fact, you were ready to admit that it was easily the best kiss of your life. That made you both nervous and excited, “it was good.”

“But you didn’t want it?”

“I did, I do,” you drained the rest of your glass before pulling your legs up and hugging your knees to your chest, “I liked it and I want to do it again. You know I do. It’s just…what if he thinks its a mistake? What if he hated it and it’s ruined everything. I don’t want to lose him, MJ. He’s too important to me.”

“Honey,” she mirrored your position and her face turned serious, “I mean in the most loving way possible, but you are so incredibly obtuse. Peter is in love with you. You’re in love with Peter. What else could you possibly need to know?”

“I know I love him,” you agreed, “so much. But how can you be so sure?”

“Because he’s told me!” she threw up her hands as your eyes widened in surprise. She put her hands on yours and gave you a little shake, “he’s told me that he’s in love with you. More than once. I’ve just been…the two of you are so damn stupid. You’re so clearly in love with each other but neither of you can just admit and move forward. You’re not going to lose Peter, I swear on that. But sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith and move forward. Otherwise nothing is ever to change.”

“MJ-”

“It’s not even that big of a leap,” she whispered gently, “it’s Peter. He’s always going to be there to catch you.”

You swallowed thickly, blinking back the tears stinging at the back of your eyes, “I’m scared, MJ.”

“I know,” she gently brushed her knuckles against your cheek, “and it’s okay to be scared. But this is a sure thing. But, for now, let’s have some more wine and watch a bad movie and order pizza?”

“That sounds perfect,” you agreed sniffling slightly, “thanks MJ.”

You hoped she was right. You hoped that this leap of faith would be worth it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As it turned, your great leap of faith…was a little delayed. As in one thing led to another and your nerves and anxiety got the better of you and you hadn't seen or talked to Peter in two weeks.

It was the longest you'd gone in the decade you'd known him without talking or seeing each other. It sucked. You knew Peter was a huge part of your life but you hadn't realized just how much…until he was gone. 

And it was definitely your own fault. Peter kept trying and trying to get through to you. That part warmed your heart and made things worse at the same time. You almost wished he could let it go but you knew that wasn't his style at all. His persistence and big heart were some of the many things you loved about him. You were going to talk to him at some point…you just needed to work up the courage. Soon hopefully. Soon.

Soon, as it turned out, came on a chilly fall day as you saw at your favorite cafe. You were halfheartedly sipping on a coffee as you worked on your laptop. You had hoped that getting out of the house and the office to work in a different space, one you normally loved, would help to cheer you up but it didn’t work. Not that you had anyone to blame but yourself. 

With an unwittingly heavy sigh, you looked up and stared out the window, watching the rain drizzle down. The city was beautiful this time of year; only this time it didn’t feel as lovely. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was to find Peter Parker stopping mid-walk and looking straight back at you. A tentative little smiled up the corners of his mouth as held up his hand in a small wave; a white flag gesture. You let out a nervous huff of laughter before smiling back at him and holding up your hand in response. 

He stood there for a moment before mouthing something at you, motioning with his to see if you’d come out. This time you didn’t hesitate as you shoved your laptop into your bag and almost ran outside to meet him. You didn’t know where you stood with Peter, but even just seeing him already made your heart feel so much better. 

“Hi,” he sounded almost nervous as you stopped in front of him, neither of you caring that you were getting wet. 

“Hi,” you whispered back, unsure of what to say or do. But this time you couldn’t run away or hide; you had to face up to what was going on, “can we talk?”

“Yeah,” he took your bag from you and hooked it over his shoulder, starting to walk in the direction of his apartment. You fell into step with him, neither of you saying anything, but walking close enough so that the backs of your hands continued to gently brush against each other. The tension hanging in the air between the two of you was palpable but you were afraid to say anything to break the silence. 

Peter didn’t seem to harbor any ill feelings as he continued to open the doors for you. By the time you were inside the apartment, he closed the door and leaned against, watching you closely. You stood there nervously, trying to think of what to say, all the while hoping that Peter would say something instead. 

The two of you looked at each other in silence for what seemed like a small eternity. The next thing you knew, Peter came over to you and took your face gently in his hands, warm doe eyes searching yours. You offered him the tiniest of nods before he leaned in and kissed you. This time, instead of over thinking anything, you allowed yourself to live in the moment. At first Peter was afraid that you didn’t want this and he’d somehow read the signs wrong, but then he felt you loop your arms around his waist and kiss him back. 

And it felt like pure magic. It was everything you could have ever dreamed of and then some more. Kissing Peter felt so…right. Judging by the way he refused to pull away from you until you were both breathless, you were sure that he felt the same. He pressed his forehead against yours and let a small, wistful sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly, unable to get your emotions in check from what had just happened. The only thing you knew was that you loved Peter; that was all that mattered, “Pete.”

“Don’t apologize,” he traced his fingers along your jaw and down your neck, causing goosebumps to explode all over your skin, “just talk to me please.”

You nodded, allowing yourself to look into his eyes. There was no malice in them, only…well, you weren’t absolutely sure what it was, but it was…something. There was a hopeful expression on his eyes as you nervously played with your hands. 

“Pete,” he loved the way you said his name; it always made him weak in the knees, “when you kissed me last time, were you drunk? Tipsy? Anything?”

He made a small sound, but shook his head, giving you the answer that you had already known was true, “no.”

“Why did…want to kiss me?” you were adorably; adorably blind. Peter looked at you softly, tilting his head to the side as he tutted. 

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked as you bit your lip. He moved towards his bedroom and motioned for you to follow him. When he stepped inside, he went to his dresser and dug around for a few moments before pulling out a big cardboard box. You watched with rapt attention as he took off the lid and poured the contents out on the bed. It was a large pile of photo strips, receipts, notes, and other silly little trinkets, “I have kept every silly note, every set of photobooth pictures, every receipt from anything important or special that we’ve done in the last decade.”

“Oh,” your eyes started to sting with tears as you looked at everything. You reached for a strip of photos - the first ones you’d taken together - and looked them over. It was the two of you, about nine years younger, making silly poses. Except in the last photo; you were making a silly face but Peter wasn’t. He was looking right at you with that same expression he’d always had just for you. Just for you. You looked at him and found him watching you intently, his cheeks tinged with a pretty shade of pink. It was like everything suddenly clicked in your mind, “oh. Peter…”

“It’s been a long time Bee,” his voice was so soft and low, “all this time, I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

“You never…” you sifted through the other photos and gathered them all up, looking through them. Fuck, you were an idiot. Every single time there was that look, “you never said anything.”

“No,” he admitted, “I was sure you’d get there eventually, and I’d always be here.”

“But at the party,” you felt even more stupid now; he had basically when telling the same thing then but you just didn’t want to believe that it could be true, “you said something.”

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You’re so beautiful,” he watched the smile on your face grow as you looked at some of the silly post-it notes the two of you had exchanged when you still worked at the same lab, “I never can. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Wait,” you sat at the edge of the bed, clutching one of the notes tightly in your hand, “can you just…spell it out for me? I-I don’t know if my brain is working properly right now.”

“Bee,” he crouched down in front of you, large hands settling on your thighs, “I love you. Not just as a best friend, but as everything. I want everything, but only if it’s with you.”

You put one of your hands on his and gave it a gentle squeeze, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” he turned your hand over and traced a finger along the heart and life lines on your palm, “I’m in love with you.”

“Peter.”

“I was wondering when you were going to catch up,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to your palm, “MJ’s been trying to get me to tell you for a long time.”

“This whole time?” he nodded as you looked at him with a most ardent and loving expression, “when did you know?”

“It was at that first fair we went that summer after we met,” you remembered that day so clearly. From the sounds and the smells to what the two of you were wearing, to all the whispered conversations and longing looks, “you were wearing that pretty sundress - the yellow one with the little daisies on it - and I almost lost it. I think I knew that night. I really wanted to kiss you then.”

“I wanted you to kiss me then too,” you admitted sheepishly, feeling your entire face warm up, “it was that New Years Eve for me. You took me ice skating and I really wanted to hold your hand so I pretended to be super bad at skating. When it was midnight and kissed my cheek, I knew it was always going to be you for me.”

“I knew you were faking,” he laughed softly, eyes sparkling with happiness, “but I really liked holding your hand and didn’t want to let go. I’ve taken every and any excuse over the years to hold your hand or touch you.”

“I’m…I’m scared, Peter,” you couldn’t imagine a life without him. He was the biggest part of your heart, “what if something happens and we can’t be friends anymore? I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

“I promise you that you are never going to lose me,” you hoped it was true; you desperately wanted it to be true, “not as Spider-Man and not as plain old Peter. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Pinky promise?” you held up your other hand and extended your pinky towards his. He hooked his finger around yours without hesitation.

“Pinky promise,” he repeated, “and you know the pink promise is law. No one can break them. It’s for life.”

“What if you start to hate me?” that would be your worst fear, “if we start dating or something.”

“I hate to break it to you, honey,” he plopped onto the floor and gently pulled and maneuvered you into his lap. Yeah…that might have become your new favorite spot, “we’ve basically already been dating. It’s really not going to change much. Just some…added benefits.”

And at that, you relaxed, allowing yourself to melt into his body, laughing softly as you rested your forehead on his shoulder, “I guess you’re right. But, Pete-”

“I’m sure,” he put his hand under your chin and turned your face up to his, “I always have been sure. It’s always going to be you.”

“Me too,” you took advantage of the moment and leaned up to steal a quick kiss from him, “I am sorry though, for ignoring you for the past couple of weeks. I was scared and then I didn’t know how to approach you after that.”

“I knew you were doing okay…ish,” he immediately knew what he was going to say next, “MJ kept me updated.”

“She’s going to kill me,” you sighed, “she’s been so mad at me for how I’ve been acting - not that I blame her. She told me to tell you how I felt. She told me it was just a small leap of faith.”

“I’m right here to catch you,” of course he was. He had been since the day he’d met you, “how do you feel, Bee? Tell me.”

“I’m in love with you, Peter Parker,” the smile on his face was beaming. It was enough to warm your heart a million times over, “I want you.”

“You have me.”

“I know,” you took his hand in yours and laced your fingers together. You’d held hands before but it felt so different this time around, “you have me too, you know.”

“I know,” he mirrored the actions with your other hands, “I’ve always known.”

“Hmm,” you closed your eyes and hummed in content, “will you kiss me again?”

“Gladly, Bee,” he brushed his nose against yours, “always.”

MJ was going to flip when she heard the news.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Show Stopping.

This is the concluding story to the corresponding blog event, It’s Raining Crows and Dogs! I took inspo from Cruella (2021) while writing this piece.

Please note, I was not able to respond to all interaction requests, as many were sent after the submission period, disregarded rules, or simply did not catch my interest 💦 Apologies!

By My Hand.

Drinks dulled the senses, distracting from the din of the charity ball. Alcohol was forbidden on campus—but the sugar and the carbonation was enough to be ride that high, to loosen from the binds of stiff suits, glittering gowns, and falsified formalities.

The orchestra’s song swayed and sloshed like liquid in her ears. The golden lights refracting off chandelier crystals, kaleidoscopic.

Was it the juice or the tiredness messing with her senses?

Knocking back her glass, Raven let the fizzy, fruity concoction tumble down her throat. Bright citrus washed away her worries, the bubbles tickling her nose as it went down. She set the glass, now empty, down and called out to the anxious mob student manning the bar.

“Another, please.”

“… D-Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Raven-san?” Octa A asked. “That’s your seventh drink.”

She stared at him with blank, lifeless eyes.

Octa A immediately set to preparing the eighth. Club soda, fruit syrup, crushed mint leaves, and cubed ice.

“Long night?” he wondered out loud, attempting at conversation.

“Yes.” Raven groaned, nursing her aching head with one hand. “I was up for all of yesterday assisting Crewel-sensei with the final touches on his ensemble for this evening. Didn’t get a lick of sleep.”

“Oh. I-I’m sorry to hear that…” Octa A muttered. He topped off the fresh drink with a twisted lime wedge and then slid it to her. “Did your efforts at least pay off?”

She accepted the beverage with a tired yet grateful smile. “I have no clue. He has yet to arrive.”

Even though he demanded that I be here to witness ‘the fruits of my labor’…

“I’m sure he’ll show up soon.”

Raven cast a glance at her phone. 11:59 pm. Late—far too late.

“I highly doubt—”

BAM!!

The instant the clock struck midnight, the doors to the venue swung open, as if on cue. In strutted two Dalmatians, each fitted in a diamond encrusted collar. Trailing them was a figure in a white cloak with a long train, hood pulled over their face.

Heads turned. Onlookers gasped.

“Who is that?”

Raven stilled.

They produced a wand from a billowing sleeve and waved it in an arc. There was a dog collar looped around the end of the wand, a square magical gem on it.

Fire sprouted at the end of the mysterious guest’s train. It formed a coil, snaking up their body and engulfing the white. The exterior fell away into crumbling ashes and cinders, revealing what was underneath: a handsome face in a black and white eye mask, his suit a sinisterly shimmering crimson.

Divus Crewel, fashionably late.

Raven exchanged looks with Octa A.

The venue bursted into sound like a balloon popped. People rushed at him, flocking like birds, swarming like bees.

“Sir! What a grand entrance! How did you do it?”

“What a show stopping performance.”

“I thought my heart was about to beat out of my chest!!”

“Where did you get this outfit? I would like to own one for myself. Oh, you must pass me along the name of the brand.”

Crewel, right at home among his throng of admirers, chuckled. “I appreciate the compliments, but I’m afraid you won’t be able to find a replica of this look in any store or boutique. This ensemble is an original designed by yours truly.”

“Oh my!” A woman clutched at the string of pearls around her neck. “Would you be willing to do an original for me then?”

“Now, now! I had every intention of asking him first!” a mustachioed man protested.

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to turn down those requests,” Crewel interjected smoothly. “I am presently focused on my role as an educator. Your presence here at this event helps Night Raven College and its efforts to better the future and the local community.”

A murmur of agreement passed through the crowd.

“And another thing,” he continued, “I’m afraid I cannot take all the credit for my outfit. I may be responsible for the design, but the color of the dye was made in collaboration with a student.” Crewel searched the room and found Raven, letting his gaze linger on hers. She felt her mouth drying up. “This is the direction of the future.”

He flashed a dazzling smile. His handsomeness, a cutlass slashing through their defenses. Raven felt the entire room melt in response to Crewel.

“If you wish to support us and Night Raven College’s endeavors, we you may donate tonight. All proceeds will be going to an animal shelter on Sage’s Island.”

Several voices cried out simultaneously.

“I-I’ll donate! Of course I will!”

“Honey, we’ve got to support this cause.”

“You heard the man.”

“Night Raven College is such an exemplary learning institution!”

“Wow, Crewel-sensei strolled in and commanded the entire event,” Octa A mused. “Raven-san, the work you were doing yesterday… now it’s being seen by all of these people.”

“Well,” she said warily, absentmindedly swirling her half empty glass, “as long as he’s happy and NRC gets that money, I guess it’s fine.”

“That shade of red is nice,” Octa A commented. He was already assembling the ninth drink. “It suits Crewel-sensei very well.”

“I should hope so!” she huffed. “It took a lot of workshopping and several samples to find a shade that pleased him.“

“What did you name this one? Since you tend to label your homemade inks.”

“Ah, I call this one…”

Cruel Devil.

[skylarsblue]

✦C.o.D Call Sign Inspo✦

(I've been having a bad writer's block, but, I do have some mini ideas that I can't flesh out. But, I know some people struggle with names/concepts for Y/N's/Characters. So! I'm giving them out for free in hopes it'll inspire something in someone so they don't go to waste!)

✧Somno; Gender Neutral. A y/n that's main trait is being a hyper insomniac. To the point they always seem tired, constantly consuming caffine, etc. But even if they're falling asleep where they're standing, they have incredibly fast reflexes. Could lead to some funny scenarios of finding them asleep in weird places, or, a cute concept (them only being able to sleep when they feel completely safe; ie: with one of the c.o.d characters)

✧Mama; Feminine. Pretty on the nose, but it could also be translated into a different language to match a country of origin. The concept is basically just...an aggressively maternal lieutenant/captain. Because I feel we don't have enough strong MILF's in this world, let alone in this fandom. This could also be used platonically because 141 specifically could use a mom type. Ghost & Gaz specifically.

✧Saint; Gender Neutral. Can be used for a character that's incredibly self sacrificing. Which would make for good fluff & good angst, plus, I think a lot of us can relate to feeling. Partially inspired by a random line I thought of - "If I die protecting you, that's far less frightening than you being gone when I could've protected you. Dying once for you is a peaceful passing, rather than dying every day you're not with me."

✧Salvadora/Salvador; Fem or Masc. Disclaimer; when I had this idea I imagined a woman. An alternative to the cartel story line in Las Almas. Y/N runs a civilian resistance against the cartel and has commandeered a village to keep citizens safe. It's basically a paradise in the crime ridden city. They've been providing sneaky support for Alejandro's men. (Honestly, this concept is pretty specific, and more detailed, and I might break it down more/write it on my own if possible)

✧Copycat/Mimic; Gender Neutral. A y/n that's incredibly skilled at mimicking voices. Whether in different accents or actual voices.

✧Mirage; Gender Neutral. Disclaimer; I imagined this also as a woman because I like powerful ladies. Similar to the one above but instead of just voices, they're just great at disguises in general & particularly sneaky. Like they "fade out of existence" if you look away at the wrong time.

✧Lynx; Gender Neutral. For a small, deceivingly cute looking character that's actually super deadly and quick. Do not trust the toe beans.

✧Nessie; Gender Neutral-Fem Lean. Pretty self explanatory. A character that's illusive and great in water. Bonus points for Scottish rep.

✧Sparks/Fuse; Gender Neutral. Just a fuckin' pyromaniac that can make their own bombs, super impressive and intricate ones. Thought of a scene where they're all in the heat of battle, low on ammo, and Y/N brings up randomly that they were a troublesome teen who almost had a criminal record. Price asks what the charge was and they just light something that doesn't look at all like a bomb, with a giant grin. "It was arson!!" And then they throw a fuckin' devastating bomb.

✧Iris; Gender Neutral. A character known for a very intense/intimidating stare. Inspired by those clips of people losing to Angelina Joline's femme fatal stare. Also, them being able to read a shocking amount about a person purely through eye contact.

✧Sage/Blister/Morphine/Plaster; Gender Neutral. All names for a potential medic!Y/N. (Plaster, for us Americans, is a word for bandaid in the UK. I know y'all prolly know that but just in case)

✧Bee; Gender Neutral. For a Y/N that's visibly smaller than those around them but packs a real hard punch. Also good if they're particularly good at physical combat. "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

✧Sugarcube/Honey/Cupcake; Gender Neutral-Masc Lean. I think the idea of a big buff, visibly masculine, intimidating dude being named something like 'sugarcube' is super funny.

✧Lasso/Big Mac/Stallion; Masculine. Isn't it obvious? Big cowboy man who's aggressively American even if he's actually been a UK citizen for years.

✧Bessie/Cowgirl/Chick; Feminine. Once again, aggressively southern Y/N. But, for fem!y/ns.

✧Tex/Stars/Anthem; Gender Neutral. See above, but this time, neutral. Cause I'm about equality in this bitch.

✧Cobra/Mamba; Gender Neutral. For a y/n that specializes in poisons to kill enemies, as well as a character with any association with snakes. Could be interesting for Ghost to hear.

✧Doll/Dolly; Feminine. A more "spy type" for the classic femme fatal who gets intel through allure. If you've seen my two fic concept posts, this is the call sign I'd give to the Y/N in Price's concept.

✧Tech; Gender Neutral. Pretty basic, a character that's particularly tech-y. Good with computers and hacking.

✧Bunny/Hare; Gender Neutral. For a y/n that's small, but super fast & alert. Bonus if they got Hinata jumping powers.

✧Clover/Shamrock; Gender Neutral. Irish rep. Use this for a Y/N that is somehow the luckiest unlucky person ever. Constantly ending up in situations that are stressful/intense but making it out with barely a scratch. Can add some dissonance if they actually hate this call sign because it's not luck that gets them out of these situations, and instead is there skill.

[arcadekitten]

Do you have any interesting facts about Sorella and Walker? Are they both Noisrevian? Since Walker doesnt exactly look the part. Are they dating? Or siblings? Or just friends? What are they like?

Normally I don't, but this time I do!! Sorrela and Walker are actually OCs I've had for a while, so they got a bunch of stuff to go with them!

As stated they were both based on roblox bee swarm simulator! Sorrela being inspired by the player character and Walker being inspired by the dancing walking stick NPC. Both of them are Noisrevians.

Sorrela is a bee. She's a girl and goes by she/her pronouns. She identifies with both the bi label and pan label at the same time. She has generalized anxiety disorder and obsessive compulsive disorder. She's also a princess, and lives in a castle with her mother and 2 younger half-sisters. Her personality is nice and sweet enough, but she's a bit pendantic and gets annoyed/bothered easily too. Often has to do things her way. Her design is inspired by magical girls, too!

Walker is kinda like the Noisrev-equivalent of seeing a mutant monster/alien/creature etc. Like if you as an earth-human met bigfoot or mothman or a werewolf or vampire or something. No one quite knows why/how he looks the way he does--but he can walk and talk and is indeed more person than he is creature. His namesake comes from Walking Stick of course but his bug form looks more like a Gargantuan Stick Insect! His gender is probably best described as "nonbinary boy". Everyone calls him by he/him pronouns and he's got a masculine frame and voice, but he's never really thought much about gender so much as one was imposed on to him. Yet, he doesn't seem to mind it. He is a bit mysterious and does things in unfamiliar ways, he has an air of suspicion to everything he does. But he is generally friendly...enough. And much like his direct inspo, he loves dancing!

They are love interests to one another. I did have a story for them once but its back in the workshop for now. I want to do something different! I want their story to feel like a classic animated Barbie movie, if that makes sense!

Also the art of their height difference. Please note Sorrela is probably around the 5'6" ish mark.

[meltypancake]

🦜

(i bork at you)

🦜 Which artists inspire you?

oghhh hi ria :3 i think art inspos say a lot abt what kind of art you wanna create and care about, so this was a great question to chew on...!! i bork back at you

mead schaeffer

the legend!!! amazing use of limited colour schemes, clear and elegant value structures (i love those flat blacks against the more rendered forms)

beautiful expressive brushwork !! it seems schaeffer was more interested in the overall impression and mood, so he didn’t bother with super realistic details… i strive for that kind of confidence HAHAH overall he’s great at knowing what parts to refine and what parts to leave more simple. there is so much to learn here

yoshimura seiji

YOSHIMURA-SAN…how are you real? what goes on in your head when you draw? his art was my phone lockscreen for the longest time, because it is absolutely stunning. there is an overwhelming sense of calm and peace in his work, as if time had stopped, and he captured the essence of that moment. no joke!!! such subtle use of textures and light on top of incredible compositions… there aren’t enough words in any human language to describe his work

his art can be found here! it is somber and beautiful and makes the soul ache

alphonse mucha

he is known for his art nouveau work which is a feat in itself (insane stuff), but i primarily get inspired by his paintings!! “the tree of life” especially takes my breath away bc it has such beautiful transitions between shades of blues and yellows.

the other painting here is called “the slavic epic - cicle I” and the composition (the colors, values, placement of people and objects) actually crit hits me it is that powerful… stunning blues that flow into brighter cyans, and then far in the back, leading the viewers eye into the distance, that reddish pinkish hue rising up into the sky is just hhejagzudawhakdsz . this is real and someone made that and we somehow manage to wake up every day and be normal!!!! wtf…

nathan fowkes

truly mesmerizing color compositions… they really remind me that art is pure magic and i can never tear my eyes away from his work. i also watched a couple of his courses on schoolism (the composition one is my favorite, but the daily color workouts also slap) and they were incredibly helpful!!

looking at these paintings again actually makes my heart feel like its beeing squeezed fr HEHJKGZUASD (POSITIVE) i feel like he really understands the emotional aspect of color so well. I STRIVE FOR THIS SKILL !!!!

bato dugarzhapov

it’s like he can condense and intensify and capture the color and light of a moment and put it into his art… i study the colors of his work a lot. looking at it is like looking through a lens that lets you see the truth of nature and life (no joke!!)

and five million more artists ofc!!! for brevity's sake i cannot mention them all but art truly is a mystical weird thing that exists in our lives. eternally grateful!! HAVE A GREAT DAY FRIEND!!!

[weirdozjunkary]

I did another fic in the PIB AU. This time of the infamous panic attack scene. It’s fairly long, but not the longest I’ve ever written

———————

KA- FWEEEW!!!

A spectactical aray of confetti bursted from the baker inspo the air. Sonic splat, the confetti clinging to himself. At any other time, this cluster of colourful paper adorned with a cute party horn would’ve been cheerful, but now it seemed more gruesome.

“BLEGH! What?!”

“OHOHO! So that’s what they do!” Ivo cheered. He was already aiming up another shot. Unicorn horns are deadly. “Cool!”

“NO! ITS NOT COOL!” The iridecent beatle shouted, appalled at the doctors amazement by this spread of colourful destruction.

Another horn stuck into a bakers side. “AUGHYOU SHOT ME-“

KA-FWEEEW!!!

Another explosion right in the hedgehogs face. He sneezed at the dust and confetti in the air. “Ugh! The sight is off!” He heard ivo groan. And just as he could stop himself from sneezing, Sonic was hoisted up by his bandana.

“I got him mister Horner!” Another horn stuck into the bakers side.

“MY BAD!”

“Oh no.”

KA-BLAM!!

Silence. Only accompanied by a faint growing ringing through the hedgehogs ears as he flew through the air slowly. It didn’t stop till he tumbled against the ground, his bandana untying itself from his throat. There, just within arms reach, it was the map. It had fallen out of his grasp through the explosion. And as the world around him moved by in slow motion, he propped up on a knee and reached out a hand to it.

He froze. That sound. That sharp and sickening melody that made his hair stand up on end and his stomach twist violently. He could hear it. Just a few feet behind him.

He gasped out air from his lungs. Hoping to god that when his eyes drifted from the map behind him that he wouldn’t see what he dreaded to see. But once his body was fully turned around. As his heart pounded in his ears and his lungs felt tight and empty. He could see it. That jackal. Unsheathing his sickles from his dark cloak. Staring at him with his vibrant eyes.

He is here. HOW is he here? The last time he saw him was running from Ivo Horner’s bakery. And still, those eyes, so glassy but vibrant like marbles. They pierced frozen daggers into his. It made them ache.

His body moved before his brain caught up. His heart raced in his ears, pounding so hard his chest hurtt. His lungs were on fire as he wheezed while he ran. Ran away. Ran far. Ran fast. Just get away from this fucking maniac!!!

“Sonic? SONIC! WAIT!” Tails shouted, grabbing his fallen bandana and chasing after him.

“Tails?” Shadow puzzled. He took his eyes off of the map for a second. Just enough for the face of a large hammer to whack him away.

“Thanks for the map, Stripes!” Amy gawked as she laid her eyes on the map she snatched up from the ground. It sparkled and shimmered. Changing the scenery on it and then the world around them. The ground broke and shifted, sending cliffs and pine trees high into the air.

“NO!” Both Shadow and Ivo shouted in anger at the group that ascended higher into the air.

“HEY! You’ve just been crimed by the Chaotix Crime family!” The young bee shouted.

“So long, you plonkers!” Amy added and left with the rest of them. Projectiles flying past them as they ran into the newly formed forest behind.

“!LOS VOY HACER A TODOS ALFOMBRAS DE BAÑO!” Shadow angrily shouted. He kicked the ground and bared his teeth in frustration. “GRAGH!!! SONIC!!! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

His legs could barely keep him standing. The only reason why he didn’t fall over yet was the proper yak motion of his legs keeping him going forward. His footsteps were heavy and sporadic, so was his breathing. He heaved with each step, each movement of his arms. His eyes darting around the dark forest. He could’ve sworn he saw him. His face. His eyes. Him. The one trying to take his life.

“SONIC! SONIC!” The twin tailed fox cried out with worry. Where could he have gone?

There. He was at the base of a tree. Huffing and heaving as his eyes continued to dart around in front of him. That hunter is near. He’s just waiting to pounce. Waiting to strike. He’s here. He has to be.

“Sonic! Sonic! Are you okay? What’s wrong?!”

Tails’ voice fell deaf on Sonic’ ears. He huffed and wheezed with tears in his eyes. He was waiting for him, the jackal. The moment for him to strike. He didn’t know if Tails was truly there or not. And Tails. This boy was so worried for his friend. He felt helpless. Moreso Sonic to Tails.

But, he looked at Sonic’s face. The pure terror and panic in his eyes. And almost as if he had done this before, he rested his head against his chest. He could feel it, hear it. His heartbeat so fast and loud. A sporadic rhythm that pounded so hard that it could leap right out of his chest.

But as Tails laid there, his eyes shut and an arm wrapped over the hedgehog, he felt a hand lay gently on his head, and the hedgehog’s heart and breathing slow. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, didn’t even open his eyes. He just laid there as Sonic pet him. He only looked at him once he heard him huff out a sigh.

“Thank you, Tails.” He said.

“What’s going on with you, Sonic?”

Sonic stammered and looked away. He couldn’t look this sweet boy in the face. Not to tell him what’s really been going on. Why he decided to pursue this star. What his wish truly was. “I… I am down to my last life. And I…” He gulped down a hard lump. “I am afraid.”

“Well, it’s okay to be afraid.”

“No! Not for Sonic the Hedgehog! I’m supposed to be a fearless hero. A legend.” He slumped further down the base of the tree. “But without any lives to spare. I am… nothing.” He shot up and clenched a determined fist. “I need that wish to get my lives back!”

“You should tell Shadow, then. He would understand-“

“No no no! He can’t hear none of this stuff!” Sonic said as he put a hand over the fox’s mouth briefly to silence him.

“Okay?”

What neither of them knew, was not far behind them was the black hedgehog, slicing through the prickled grass. “¿Adónde fueron ese idiota y su zorro?” He muttered to himself. His ears shot up once he could hear the blue hedgehog.

“Shadow will never trust me again. Not after Santa Coloma.”

“But that was just one bad heist.”

“Santa Coloma wasn’t a heist, Tails. It was a church. With a priest and guests… and Shadow.” He reminisced back to that day. A sour feeling painfully waved over his chest. “Everything but me. I ran away then too.”

“Oh...” Tails responded, letting his mind wander a little. “Oh.” He finally gasped in shock once the realization hit him. “OH! You left him at the altar?”

“It was wrong, I know. I’m ashamed of it.” He sighed. “I just wish I hadn’t hurt ‘em so badly. I regret that day a lot.”

“So… maybe you should tell that to Shadow. It might make you feel better about it. It might make him feel better about it, too.”

Shadow stood behind the tree, arms crossed and a look of uncertainty clearly on his face. Of course Sonic wouldn’t have said this to his face, his pride was too fragile to admit defeat. But, something about what he said, perhaps the tone or what have you. It felt genuine, though full of sadness and melancholy.

He had been running all his life, both of them. Running from enemies, from friends, loved ones, eachother. Running out of fear. Fear of being betrayed, of being hurt again. He was like him, even if they didn’t know the extent of it— of each other— they both were running. Maybe. Maybe they don’t need to run.

“Sonic! Fox!” Shadow called as he came into their view. “There you two are. What the hell happened?”

“S-Shadow!” Sonic stammered and stood up, finally tying his bandana back on. “I-uh- I lost the map. I messed up.”

“We’ll get it back, don’t worry. We’ve been in worse prickles.”

“WHAT?! Who told you that name?!” Sonic shouted, only to receive a confused look from shadow.

“…What name?”

“Uh… n-nothing!”

[bittcrsweetsfm]

[ … ]     ❀     you’re  not  from  around  here,  are  you?  i  figured  because  you  totally  just  missed  elena  de  luca  walking  by.  don’t  tell  me  you  don’t  know  who  they  are?  they  kind  of  look  like  olivia  cooke  and  i  could  be  wrong  but  i  think  that  they  might  be  twenty  seven  years  old  right  now.  they’ve  been  living  in  palmview  for  the  last  seventeen  years.  and  i  don’t  know  if  anyone  has  ever  told  them  this  before  but  they  kind  of  remind  me  of  lorelai  gilmore  from  gilmore  girls.  if  you  stick  around  the  town  long  enough  you  might  catch  them  in  action  working  at  pearl's  seafood  bistro  as  a  waitress.  you  see  this  town  isn’t  really  that  big  of  a  place,  some  folks  like  to  call  them  the  lothario  of  palmview!  they  took  a  liking  to  the  name  too  after  a  while,  go  figure.  oh  crap,  they  must  have  heard  me  yapping.  they’re  coming  this  way.  i  got  to  warn  you  though,  rumor  has  it  they  can  pretty  impulsive  at  times.  i  wouldn’t  take  it  too  seriously  though,  from  the  times  i’ve  spoken  to  them  they  seemed  pretty  insouciant  to  me.  we  see  each  other  all  the  time  since  they  live  in  that  2  bedroom  apartment  beside  me  over  in  coral  cove.  i  better  leave  you  to  it.  it  was  nice  meeting  you!

✗     𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢𝖲

full  name  :  elena  sienna  de  luca.  age  :  twenty  seven.  birthday  :  may  2nd,  1996.  astrology  :  taurus  sun,  aries  moon  +  leo  rising.  gender  +  pronouns  :  gender  nonconforming  /  she  +  they.  sexual  orientation  :  bisexual  +  biromantic.  spoken  languages  :  english  +  italian.  height  :  5'3.  tattoos  +  piercings  :  dainty  spine  tattoo,  sun  sign  behind  left  ear  +  earlobes,  belly  botton,  tragus.  allergies  :  strawberries  +  bees.  addictions  :  nicotine  +  borderline  alcoholic.  drug  /  alcohol  use  :  marijuana  user  +  struggles  with  binge  drinking.  family  tree  :  giovanni  de  luca  (father),  isabella  de  luca  (mother),  unnamed  twin  brother  (2  minutes  younger)  +  unnamed  younger  sister.  character  inspo  :  samantha  jones,  audrey  horne,  stassi  schroeder.

✗     𝖡𝖨𝖮𝖦𝖱𝖠𝖯𝖧𝖸

born  two  minutes  before  their  younger  twin  brother,  they  made  sure  that  everyone  knew  that  they  were  the  first  one  to  enter  the  world,  especially  her  parents  when  they  didn't  pay  attention  to  her  right  away  after  whining.

growing  up  in  new  york  wasn't  for  the  light-hearted,  and  it  definitely  didn't  help  with  the  mending  of  the  eldest  de  luca's  mindset;  having  two  lawyer  parents  and  consistent  gifts  provided  whenever  wanted.  at  the  age  of  ten,  the  family  uprooted  themselves  to  move  to  palmview,  a  change  of  scenery  that  elena  hated  the  moment  their  eyes  landed  on  it.

with  mom  taking  an  early  retirement  to  be  a  stay  at  home  mom  with  twin's  at  the  age  of  ten  and  younger  child,  their  father  became  the  main  breadwinner  of  the  family  and  arguements  soon  began  to  take  hold  of  the  de  luca's  family  dinner  nights.  it  didn't  help  that  elena's  spoiled  nature  constantly  added  into  the  arguments,  screaming  at  the  top  of  her  lungs  for  any  ounce  of  attention,  which  was  usually  given  by  siblings  than  parents.

high  school  was  easy  for  elena,  solely  because  of  the  carefree  attitude  that  they  had  and  their  looks.  additionally,  it  was  never  a  downfall  that  the  de  luca  household  was  always  the  place  to  be  for  parties  +  how  easily  swayed  elena  was.  experimenting  with  drugs  and  finding  calmness  in  a  sip  of  alcohol  at  the  young  age  of  fifteen.

being  sex  positive  was  not  always  a  good  thing;  the  labels  of  slut  and  whore  came  from  many  of  the  girls  around  her,  but  it  rarely  affected  elena.  just  because  they  enjoyed  something  pleasurable  without  the  confinements  of  a  relationship  didn't  make  her  a  bad  person.  

at  the  age  of  nineteen,  their  parents  no  longer  wanted  to  provide  an  allowance  to  the  eldest  de  luca,  after  endless  spending  on  things  that  were  dramatically  unneeded.  this  caused  elena  to  begin  working  and  saving  up  for  the  spending  that  she  was  prone  to  doing  when  bored  and  stuck  inside  the  apartment  her  parents  bought  for  her.

college  was  not  something  that  they  could  handle,  entering  the  scene  at  the  age  over  twenty  one  and  dropping  out  two  years  later  with  only  a  couple  semesters  left  towards  graduating.  intelligent,  but  unmotivated,  they  couldn't  handle  the  constant  need  that  came  with  schooling.  using  the  time  to  explore  more  with  their  sexuality  and  spending  more  time  at  house  parties  than  doing  assignments.

now,  twenty  seven,  elena  believes  that  she's  unable  to  settle  down.  easily  bored  and  someone  that  needs  attention  constantly  in  a  relationship;  they  have  managed  to  find  a  routine  that  speaks  to  them.  working  at  a  high-class  restaurant  (rarely  sober,  of  course  they're  going  to  sneak  a  glass  of  wine  during  their  shift)  and  able  to  use  the  mass  amount  of  tips  provided  at  the  end  of  the  night  to  supply  them  with  the  luxury  that  they  believe  that  deserve.

[numbbrainstrorm]

I Ran out of my time limit so that's on me if He looks ugly talking abt the mistakes ( I'll finish it one day it just I have alot on my hands rn)

I still gotta get used to Artflow the app isn't great but it gets the job done for now

A huge inspo for his species is: Hivewings from WoF

Honeycomb of Royal Hornets Nest ( a. K. A Hornet)

Rest under the cut ( alt mode not included I still gotta figure that out)

And a tiny bit of lore ( I don't know how to grammar my English isn't Perfect yk v-v)

And also I dunno what I'm talking about 🖤

It's very unfinished but it gets the job done as a reference sheet

Note:

The goal of my Au Icarus is to make the semi-organics as uncomfortable as possible

So I guess their anatomy coming as soon as I can get my time under control

It's a Semi-organic ( his organs are a mix of flesh and metal)

He is chubby and technically considered Fat in his culture ( which isn't nice but his species' beauty standards are high)

Anyways bit of Lore Ig? ( if you can't understand what I'm yapping about it's okay nobody does I should've posted abt their species first and not him but what's done is done ig) :

Hornet was part of a Royal Guard ( a guard that protects their Queen / for him a Mother) before he left to try and find his Brother in bond somewhere in space.

Before that ( when Hornet was very young) Hornet was a Gladiator ( that's their way to gain skills in fighting kinda of a norm for offsprings of the Queen that want to be in the Royal Guard) trying to gain the skills For the Royal Guard Tournament. During the tournament, he was paired against his then "Lover" where he had to end his live cuz ' Only The best ones are supposed to get out of this alive'.

He was heartbroken thus he has hatred toward the Drags ( used as People) that made him do this. He never forgave himself.

Now he wears the skull of his lover.

And has attachment issues never leading his loved ones anywhere where he is forced to kill them for the enjoyment of others.

After He Finds his Brother in bond he Joins the Ship Icarus and is in search with them to find their new planet they can call home. ( since he left the RG it is considered a High crime that can left him dead)

There's more but it's already confusing enough so I'll stop here for now c;

Fanfacts:

He is a very skilled swords man

He named his sword Beetle cuz it was made out of his ex-lover's Exoskeleton (whose name was Beetle)

It splits into two smaller swords and two bigger ( bc he has 4 hands)

His Altmode is a dragon Hornet hybrid

Hornets are a subspecies of the bug family

( bug family: Honey Hoarders > Bees, bumble bees, carpenter bees ( aka builder bees) , wasps, Hornets that turn into Elder Hornets

Leaf critters > Mantis, Beetles, Spiders

Glass Royalty > Silkies )

Royal Guard is a "group of siblings" that protects their Mother that is also their queen.

To be part of the Royal Guard you must be

1- queens offspring

2- be on top of the Vemon scale ( it's like a hardness scale but it's Venom)

3- must be a skilled fighter

4- be chosen by Mother in the Tournament

Also, He has a pet a. k. a his child called Dumpy

Dumpy is a Minibug that doesn't have an alt mode but is highly intelligent

[featherbutt]

I've been thinking a lot about zombie apocalypses from the perspective of someone being turned. So, enjoy zombie apocalypse polycule everyone.

Warnings: Zombies, apocalypse, both romantic and platonic angst, bite wound, blood, infection, decay, body horror, unwanted thoughts and feelings and urges (cannibalism, harm to a loved one), vomit

Background Info: In this universe, zombification is a slow process, and one retains their humanity for an extended period of time. This follows the point of view of Maria (she/her) through the early to middle stages of becoming a zombie.

Today was the day.

Today was the day I felt myself truly slipping into the virus.

It started out with a bite. I went out with Ronja to the woods and it did its best to herd the hoard away, toward a kill she put out for them. However, I suppose that there will aways be things that go wrong, and that was my unlucky day.

One moment, I was collecting the lumber I had chopped, the next, I was holding my bleeding arm to my chest, as Ronja wrestled a zombies face into the dirt, attempting to calm it with the dried flowers we brought for the undead. It told me to run, and run fast. I did.

In the weeks following, Nahlia did xyr best to keep me from attracting the hoards, but with the stinking scent of rot and decay from my wound, it was virtually impossible for me to continue my work outside. So, I remained inside, decorated in flowers that xe would grow.

Those nights we would check the progress of the infection, the decaying of flesh creeping up my arm and down my hands... It felt like I was attending my own funeral.

I watched them cry, I watched them mourn, knowing one day I would no longer recognize them as my lover and as my friend.

I could only hope they would do what they had to when that day comes.

Today, I woke up, and knew I was different.

I had a hunger. A painful hunger. It only grew when Nahlia kissed me on the forehead, a gesture so innocent, but so cruel.

I could smell her. I could smell how its skin was alive. The blood just under the surface. I craved to dig my teeth into it. To feel the blood rush into my mouth as I bite Ronja.

Immediately sickened by the changes within me, I ran to the window, heaving out what little food I had eaten the night before.

Nothing but meat.

It didn't take long for Nahlia and Ronja to figure out what was wrong.

Nahlia was the one who approached me this time. Xe always was out in the garden, tending to the fragrant flowers and the bees who roamed it. Even making, and accidentally wearing, flower oils. It made xem always smell so sweet. Sweet enough to hide the scent of xyr flesh.

It was calming.

"Maria? How bad was it this time? The... change."

Xyr voice was gentle, trying to coax me into telling xem where I'm at in loosing my sense of self, rather than assuming the worst.

I try to clear my throat after I had finish emptying my stomach, but my voice is still hoarse as I speak.

"Urges, Nahlia. Nothing I cant fight on my own yet, but... it disgusts me. I'm... I'm afraid. I don't want you to loose me. I don't want to hurt either of you."

"We know, love," Ronja said soothingly, applying flower scented oils to itself from across the room, as it didn't want to make this any harder on me than it already was, "we'll make sure you don't."

-----To be continued?-----

I ran out of steam lol. Anyways, I may continue this one, I may not. But I've got a lot of zombie ideas. Plus, I'm enjoying these characters. I'll try to post our notes on this as well. Let us know any thoughts or constructive criticism <33

Inspo

[indecisive-dizzy]

Hi bestie I’m 17 now

Have any oc or welcome home ideas u wanna share?

I’m curious to know more about your ocs ^^

🥺 my ocs? u want to know my babies??

fr tho I have SO many but surprisingly not too many Welcome Home ocs (outside Howdy and Eddie's family) haha. I shall talk about two of them! Under Read More tho bc this is Long

First up is CJ Chronicle! I've shared an opposite au version of him for jace's au but never shared the og!

BOOM Here's my boy!! His bio has most info but some extra stuff:

25 years old!

Height is between Frank and Eddie's

Pansexual, crushing on Frank and Eddie. He wants to hold both their hands

He and Frank can talk literature for Hours. Frank lent them some books for writing inspo and that's when they fell.

CJ and Eddie also talk a lot! I hc that Eddie likes to read too and showed interest in CJ's published books. Then he Actually Read Them. CJ was baffled and smitten.

History nerd. He will purposely point out historical inaccuracies in Sally's plays to get under her skin.

on that note he gets along with everyone but Sally and occasionally Barnaby. The dog can be very distracting and he needs quiet when writing.

I'll keep it at that for now! I need to make an official post for him haha

Next up is Valerie Viola! She's a bee from New Jersey and a bad bitch! But also very sweet! I don't have an official art for her cuz I Suck at fem body types (working on it) but I have picrew lol.

Trans mtf, she/her. Biromanitc, Demisexual.

27 years old!

shorter than Howdy, up to his shoulder in height

Rides a motorcycle

Was born hard of hearing, can't hear jack without her hearing aids. Her whole family knows sign!

Architect! She makes building plans and also dabbles in interior design

In a long distance relationship with Howdy! They met in college and kept in touch as they went down their own career paths

They met up again few years later when Howdy was visiting family and confessed feelings they've both had since college!

has four arms, and only two legs. Plus little bee wings that she can use to just slightly lift herself off the ground. High enough to kiss Howdy but that's it lol

Has a pet rat named Stink! He's a little goober

Wants to live with/closer to Howdy but struggles with the idea of leaving her home city.

Has talked to Barnaby over the phone and thinks he's the funniest guy (next to Howdy).

She's joked that if Howdy cheated on her with Barn she wouldn't even be mad. (poly? maybe.)

gets along with everyone else, but Julie can be a lot for her at times

Uuuh yeah I'll leave it at that lol

I need to get to work on getting Val some official art but hhhh high effort art is a struggle rn. Either way I hope you like my babies!! Thank u for letting me show them off sigh I need to talk about them more. Especially Valerie, poor girl got left at the store for a bit lol

[anglercrit]

A Breakdown of Cotton Candy From An Early 2010s Pop Fan

So I got the urge to listen to early 2000s-2010s pop again, and upon listening to it- it gave me examples to put my issues with Cotton Candy into words. I’ll break this down into a couple sections just so I can go over everything in depth as I can (and expect reblogs to this when a new realization hits me.)

1. The Tempo

Let’s compare Cotton Candy to a few different songs- the first is an obvious example, Die Young.

With how big of an inspo Kesha is to Viv, I’m not surprised she’d trying to harness the energy of a song like Die Young. However, the way she goes about it is all wrong. Cotton Candy is…slow. Like- really slow. Now that’s not to say a song going for a 2010s vibe can’t be slow- there were plenty of slower, more somber pop songs. I’ll use We Are Young by Fun. As an example.

When the tone of your party song is more like the fastest part of We Are Young than the slowest part of Die Young, you have a problem.

There ARE party songs with slower beats- an example that comes to mind is Halo by Beyoncé.

However, her vocals really elevate the song, while Cotton Candy’s….we’ll get to that eventually.

2. The Instruments

Cotton Candy is a very repetitive song- not that that’s bad in itself, pop in general is very repetitive. However, the issue is that it doesn’t have the proper energy for a pop song that makes the repetitiveness works. The whole song has pretty much the same few synthy chords with no variation and no real punch- again, look at Die Young, which had drums, guitar, dubstep- it had variety. Cotton Candy is the Four Chords taken to their extremes. It doesn’t even really pick up for the chorus or what’re supposed to be “big standout moments.”

3. The Vocals

Okay, before I get into this section, I need to make one thing clear: I AM NOT ATTACKING ROCHELLE DIAMANTÉ AND I DO NOT WANT ANYONE TO ATTACK HER EITHER. SHE DOES AN AMAZING KESHA AND SHE DID THE BEST WITH WHAT SHE HAD.

However- the vocals aren’t above critique. Like the instruments, the vocals are very samey for most of the song- even big exciting moments are sung in the same tone as the chorus. Now more subdued vocals can work- but the actual music tends to need to make up for it. If the vocals were better or the instrumental was better, this song might’ve had a chance- but unfortunately both are just meh, leaving it dead in the water.

So, there’s my thoughts on Cotton Candy- I definitely could’ve worded some things better, but I hope my point gets across well enough.

[dragynkeep]

RT really put themselves in a catch-22 with canonizing bees to be honest. If they don't make enough money to greenlight another volume, there's going to be accusations of them cancelling the show because they made leads queer, which will lose them even more money. If they do make enough money to greenlight another volume, it'll be more blatant than ever that they only made them canon to get money, which is almost as bad as queerbaiting, and (reasonable) people will start to leave once they realize that.

they seem to be quite fond of putting themselves in catch 22 situations tbh: this has happened before with pilot boi & avoiding byg but also with coco where now byg has to happen or there's just an unabashed nazi inspo character on screen.

compared to actual cases of byg & the hurt to actual representation: i think that losing rooster teeth this way will be delightfully, hilariously reflective of who they actually are. had 10 years to canonize a queer couple with no corporate backlash & the moment they do, with the added benefit of drawing attention away from their exposed queerphobia, the show dies? hilarious.

[jchnstones]

Ben Chilwell | Boys won't be bugs

in which (y/n) finds a spider, and ben locks himself in the bathroom.

song inspo: boys will be bugs - cavetown

t/w: mentions of spiders! (i was terrified of summonding them whilst writing i can't lie)

"I don't mean to alarm you," you start, peering your head around the doorframe.

Ben was sprawled out on the sofa, his head placed softly to the cushion as his curls fell delicately over his forehead. He clung to the remote as though someone were about to snatch it away, eyes glued to the tv screen in front of him.

Since the two of you had moved in together, you hadn't came across many spiders; Ben forcing you to handle the tiny baby ones. He'd still run a mile if ever you chased after him with one, screeching through the halls, but the smaller ones weren't a serious threat to you. Considering both you and ben were deathly afraid of them, you'd done good to avoid them for the most part-until today.

"The day has come. I just found a huge spider in the bedroom."

It took a few moments for him to register your words, instantly sitting up as he understood. He sighs, throwing the remote across the sofa, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

"you're joking, surely." Ben groans. He raises his hand to his mouth, brushing over his lips as his thoughts start to race. You watch as he shuffles uncomfortably in the seat for a moment, unknowing what move to make next. You could see his fear was growing, and wanted to act as calm as possible for him, but the spider was quite big.

"its okay, we got this. we'll just...stare at it and hope for the best." you're stood fully in the room now, your fingers tugging at the hem of your sweater.

Ben pulls a face at you and stands abruptly, brushing his clothes down as though to wipe away the anxiety. "show me where he is."

you lead ben up the stairs and into your bedroom, standing in front of the blank cream painted wall. you stare in confusion, you could've swore it was- you'd lost it.

"are you having me on?" ben asks, throwing his arm up. he turns his body in intervals in search of the spider you spoke of, scanning the bedroom floor and the walls, but there was nothing.

"it was here, i pinky promise. it must've ran away somewhere."

ben turns his head at you in an instant, his cheeks heating in disbelief. without saying a word, he climbs on to the bed and stands, his arms holding the air as he finds his balance. Staring down at you with now folded arms, he huffs.

"oh come on," you say, small giggles escape your lips as you watch him stand in protest. "you're acting like a child."

"a child?" he repeats, offended. "you said its huge. it could eat me alive for all i know. i'm safe up here." he nods as though to reassure himself.

"it was a big one to be fair. but its gone-" you're cut off by a shadow scurrying from the corner of your eye. you turn your attention from ben, stood a height above you, to the duvet on the bed. you're met with the huge spider, making its way quickly over to bens feet, stood in the middle of the bed. eyes growing in fear, you point to the spider who's now quickly makings its escape under the pillows. for a moment, you're frozen-your mouth is unable to move as you're trying to comprehend its size.

"what?" Ben asks as he notices the growing panic in your face. he follows the point of your finger and jumps, realising what it is.

"what the fuck!" ben exclaims, jumping from the bed with a loud thump. he hurriedly runs into the en-suite bathroom attached to your room and locks the door shut behind him.

although stood in panic, you burst into a chorus of laughter as you replay his actions. your body slowly unfreezes, hands falling to your stomach. bens face was priceless- his eyes almost wide enough for them to threaten to fall out, arms flying up in the air.

"stop laughing at me. i can hear you laughing at me." ben whines from behind the door. you can't see him, but you imagine him curled into a ball, head leaning against the door as though he's been in there for days.

"it's just too funny. you're adorable my angel." you're stood at the other side, speaking into the wood that separates the pair of you. with no sign of the spider anymore, you also fall to the floor, back against the door. you sigh, crossing your legs as your hands clasp together in your lap.

"you can't stay in there forever silly."

"but its still out there. i know you'll look after me. but i'm, i'm scared, y/n." he admits, his fingers tapping the tiles on the bathroom floor. he rarely told you he was scared or upset, he liked to prove to you he was strong no matter what. but you loved it when he showed his emotions, even from behind the door. it showed you that he cared. he was just so adorable, and sometimes, you didn't know if your heart was truly yours with the amount of love you had for him.

"so am I, ben. what do we do?"

"we should move house." ben blurts, processing the words that just fell out of his mouth. "or...call the fire brigade. your choice. but maybe not the last one. don't start looking on right move. for now at least." you smile to yourself. oh my, you loved goofy ben. although you know it wasn't nice for him, and he was genuinely scared, you loved being the one to look after him instead of it usually being the other way around.

"i'll call Tom," you say, pulling your phone from your pocket. "He should be okay with spiders." you scroll through your contacts to find your neighbours number. you'd only met him twice-he'd gave you his digits when he went on holiday a couple months ago, in case something happened while he was away. He definitely had other intentions though - you could tell it was just an excuse to get your number, but went along with it anyway, in case something ever did happen- and today it did.

"that sounds a lot more rational," ben chuckles, starting to calm down.

you stand up and pace around in small circles as you press call, waiting as the phone rings a couple of times over.

"hey, y/n! what's up?" tom blares down the phone eventually.

embarrassed, you're hesitant to speak. "t-tom! can you- uh. can you come round for a second? me and ben need your help."

"y/n, it's nine forty at night. can't it wait until tomorrow?" he questions.

"it's kind of an emergency," you snicker. "i can't say why because you'll refuse, and, ben needs you. like right now." you whisper, turning your head to the door, reflecting on why your boyfriend had locked himself in.

tom giggles, his mind going elsewhere. this was not the time for innuendos, you thought to yourself. "i wont ask. give me 2 minutes and i'll be there."

he ends the call abruptly, leaving you to stare at your phone in confusion for a few moments. "he'll be here soon," you say, walking back towards the door. "won't you come out of there now?"

ben signs, standing back on his feet. once more, he brushes himself off before stretching his bones. he signs, scared but tired. he unlocks the door slowly, peeking his head around the corner looking if the coast is clear of spiders. he hopes that soon, he might just be able to get into bed peacefully-without any eight legged intruders.

~

tom had arrived and is standing in your room by the time ben is standing comfortably in the room. the five minutes it took for tom to get here, he'd had stood in your shadow, hoping you'd protect him from his worst nightmare.

"a spider?" tom questions, his hands in fists as they press against his sides. "you wanted me to come to your house, to kill a spider you last saw, in your bed?" his eyes study the room in search of the spider. of course, it was never going to be that easy, but again, it was pretty big. "well this isn't the way i expected to end up here."

you roll your eyes, turning your face to ben as though to signal for him to reply. if you spoke, you fear you'd get angry and go off.

"please just find it, we're exhausted." ben mumbles, glaring at tom.

"okay, okay. i'll sort it."

you watch as tom takes a step forward and pulls back the duvet from the bed-he grabs each of the pillows separately and shakes them before throwing them to the floor. he peels back the bed topper and airs it out, bouncing the mattress with his hands. once he's done, he stands back and admires the mess he's made in your room. "nope. not there."

"look harder," ben whines, fiddling his thumbs in his clasped hands.

Tom looks at him, his eyebrows furrowed. "how about you look harder, scaredy pants." he barks back. ben scrunches his face as he steps away from him, shoving his hands in the pockets of his joggers. you can't help but let out a laugh. ben was clearly letting his pent up anger out slowly. you could tell he was really tired and felt sorry for him-perhaps you shouldn't have said anything those hours ago; let him find it in his own time.

"what about under the bed?" you suggest, kicking the boxes underneath it.

tom nods, bending down on all fours to look. you pull your phone out again and shine the light for him to see more clearly. After a few minutes of moving the clutter aroud underneath the bed, tom finally chimes.

"I see it," he groans, stretching his arms out to cup the spider in his hands. ben takes a couple steps towards the door, ready to run if he sees it.

tom crawls out from under the bed with his elbows, pressing himself up with his legs to stand finally. now, ben stands behind the doorframe of the bedroom, sneaking glances whenever he can.

"want me to kill it?" tom suggests, shaking the spider in his hands.

"no!" ben shouts unexpectedly, shaking his head. his hair shimmies with him, moving softly as he does. you watch him, face full of fear and sorrow for the animal. this is why you loved him-no matter the situation, he was so selfless. "let it out the front door."

you nod, agreeing as tom looks at you for reassurance. you did both hate them, but could never hurt them.

tom stormed out of the room, ben running away in front of him, breath heavy as tom and the spider got closer. there he was, the normal ben.

-

"all done," tom says, placing the spider down outside. the spider scurries away as ben takes a huge gulp of air-he can finally breathe.

"thanks mate," ben says, offering a hand to tom. He ignores the gesture, instead opting for a quick wave to you both.

"no problem guys. next time, lets hope he doesn't arrive unexpectedly so late." the three of your let out a small laugh, trading glances as the sound quiets down.

As you both watch tom disappear into the distance, back to his own home, you reach for bens hand. he laces his fingers between yours; his hands are like mini heaters-the warmth radiating from his skin.

"see, that wasn't too bad, was it?" you ask, standing on your toes to reach bens lips. you plant a soft kiss before pressing your body into his. "he's a right dick isn't he," ben snickers, wrapping his arm around your waist to bring you closer. "but thank god he's not scared of spiders."

you shake your head as he speaks, your smile growing wider. "you've got a bigger heart that you think, you know."

"i know. i just hate showing you im scared." he admits, his lip hiding behind his teeth.

"i love you regardless. emotional ben and emotionless ben," you breathe, "i'd even love you if you were covered in spiders and bathed in them everyday."

ben cringes, letting go of your hand and stepping away. "you're so silly," he chuckles, shaking his hands at you.

"but if you were a spider, i'd catch you."

you gag jokingly, laughing as he folds over with his own laughter.

"let's go inside before he trots back into the house." ben says, smiling at you. stepping closer to him, you hook your arm to his, walking hurriedly from the cold back into the newly spider free house. or so you'd hoped.

[bittcrsweetsfm]

[ … ]     ❀     you’re  not  from  around  here,  are  you?  i  figured  because  you  totally  just  missed  francesca  flores  walking  by.  don’t  tell  me  you  don’t  know  who  she  is?  they  kind  of  look  like  fiona  palomo  and  i  could  be  wrong  but  i  think  that  they  might  be  twenty  five  years  old  right  now.  they’ve  been  living  in  palmview  for  the  last  twenty  six  years.  and  i  don’t  know  if  anyone  has  ever  told  them  this  before  but  they  kind  of  remind  me  of  lexie  grey  from  grey's  anatomy.  if  you  stick  around  the  town  long  enough  you  might  catch  them  in  action  working  at  seaglass  heights  elementary  school  as  a  kindergarten  teacher.  you  see  this  town  isn't  really  that  big  of  a  place,  some  folks  like  to  call  them  the  benevolent  of  palmview!  they  took  a  liking  to  the  name  too  after  a  while,  go  figure.  oh  crap,  they  must  have  heard  me  yapping.  they're  coming  this  way.  i  got  to  warn  you  though,  rumour  has  it  they  can  be  pretty  naive  at  times.  i  wouldn't  take  it  too  seriously  though,  from  the  times  i've  spoken  to  them  they  seem  pretty  open  minded.  we  see  each  other  all  the  time  since  they  live  in  that  two  bedroom  apartment  beside  me  over  in  seaglass  heights.  i  better  leave  you  to  it.  it  was  nice  meeting  you!

✗     𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢𝖲

full  name  :  francesca  rosalind  flores.  age  :  twenty  six.  birthday  :  may  2nd,  1997.  astrology  :  taurus  sun,  scorpio  moon  +  gemini  rising.  gender  +  pronouns  :  ciswoman  /  she  +  her.  sexual  orientation  :  bisexual  +  biromantic.  spoken  languages  :  english.  height  :  5'6.  tattoos  +  piercings  :  a  couple  small  ones  along  her  body  that  are  usually  hidden  by  clothing  or  accessories  +  lobes,  tragus,  cartilage  and  belly  button.  allergies  :  bees  +  seafood.  addictions  :  n/a.  drug  /  alcohol  use  :  both  socially  but  rarely  both  both.  family  tree  :  carlos  flores  (father),  isabella  'bella'  flores  (mother).  character  inspo  :  lexie  grey,  cassie  howard,  aimee  gibbs.

✗     𝖡𝖨𝖮𝖦𝖱𝖠𝖯𝖧𝖸

living  in  the  moment  and  looking  back  provide  vastly  different  stories  regarding  francescas  upbringing  —  unable  to  fully  grasp  or  understand  the  hardships  her  family  had  gone  through  to  make  sure  she  could  succeed;  the  sacrifices  made.  but  if  asked  at  a  young  age,  franny  would  say  her  home  life  was  beautiful. 

growing  up  in a  low-income  area,  franny  was  born  to  a  dotting  mother  and  absent  father;  him  not  wanting  a  child  in  his  early  twenties  and  leaving  once  isabella  stated  she  would  be  keeping  the  child.  despite  this,  there  was  rarely  an  absence  in  her  life  —  although  many  crinkled  their  nose  to  the  area  she  grew  up  in;  the  strong  sense  of  community  provided  her  with  an  unforgettable  childhood.

frannys  personality  solidified  the  moment  she  entered  school  and  never  wavered.  fitting  in  with  those  deemed  “popular”  due  to  looks  and  extracurricular  activities  but  never  succumbing  to  the  meanness  that  some  individuals  would  strive  for.  having  a  friendship  with  almost  every  type  of  group  and  making  sure  she  had  talking  points.  running  through  topics  of  the  best  hair  dye  or  black  eyeliner  to  the  most  authentic  musicals  and  even  joining  heated  arguments  regarding  football  teams.  to  say  she  was  overall  liked  was  an  understatement.

regardless  of  peoples  enjoyment  in  her  company,  it  was  easy  for  francescas  soul  to  become  wounded  and  heart  to  be  ripped  in  half.  an  overly  trusting  and  naive  teenage  girl  with  her  heart  on  her  sleeve  was  the  perfect  prey  for  those  who  wanted  to  test  out  manipulation.  heartbreak  after  heartbreak  came  to  the  spencer  woman;  finding  comfort  in  the  darkness  of  her  bedroom  and  the  sad  playlists  downloaded  on  her  laptop.

college  seemed  less  intimidating  to  the  woman;  finding  her  place  and  her  set  of  friends  while  juggling  a  double  major  and  with  minors.  despite  the  busy  life,  she  was  able  to  keep  herself  occupied  enough  that  her  ever  longing  need  and  craving  for  love  had  to  be  silenced  for  her  to  focus.  dates  were  accepted  but  rarely  went  anywhere,  supplying  a  quick  fix  to  her  dreams  while  focusing  on  her  future.

finding  a  job  was  shockingly  simple  for  the  young  woman  post  graduation.  not  only  was  she  likeable  to  adults,  but  it  was  refreshing  to  see  how  easily  she  managed  to  get  onto  the  ground  with  the  kids  in  the  classroom  and  try  to  be  as  fun,  silly  and  messy  as  possible  while  also  incorporating  learned  lessons  into  the  conversations.  

being  around  kids  remained  a  safe  space  for  franny,  watching  them  grow  into  amazing  children  and  having  the  comfort  of  them  visiting  on  lunch  hours  as  they  grew  up  and  moved  onto  higher  class  statuses.  however,  it  doesn't  stop  the  internal  turmoil  within  her  mind  ...  sure,  she  was  an  amazing  teacher,  but  would  she  never  become  an  amazing  mother?  would  someone  find  her  lovable  enough  to  want  to  spend  the  rest  of  their  lives  with  her?  whoever  said  heartache  was  a  life  lesson  ...  never  met  francesca  flores.

[matildashoney]

Concept: you and Harry are exes and have to attend a wedding together (my song inspo is I Almost Do, but ofc you can take it anywhere you want!!)

Harry knew they would see each other again. It was inevitable, wasn't it?

Harry knew from the moment they decided to part ways that dreaded night that he would see her again, that this wouldn't be the end. He assumed that they would keep in contact, that she would reach out to him to let her know of the promotion that she received at her company, or maybe to congratulate him on the new single.

Harry did reach out, sort of, through their mutual friend, the one that’s getting married, the wedding that they’ll both be in attendance of. They kind of have to be, as part of the bridal party. Harry asked how she was doing over brunch, and their mutual friend – Molly is her name – said that she was doing well. This made Harry quiet, unsure of where to go. It’s not that he was expecting her to be doing poorly, he didn’t want that for her, especially not because he was still in love with her, but there was a part of him that was hoping she was even the tiniest bit as miserable as he was. That’s the selfish part of him, the one part she always complained about. That’s the reason they split, in the end. Harry was a bit selfish, is a bit selfish, and she wasn’t willing to give up her life for the touring and the music and the craziness that surrounded him.

YN’s whole life, all she wanted was to be an engineer.

YN used to tell her mother and father, “I want to build bridges and skyscrapers and all the things!” and when she was old enough to go to school and pursue her passions, that’s exactly what she was doing. Little did she know that she would start building stages for some of the biggest recording acts known to the music industry. Her career took her across the world, from Sydney to Tokyo to London, and she fell in love with what she was doing, even if she started at it by mistake. Her best friends were met through the industry, people that she fell in love with, people she grew to care for deeply and never wished to be parted from in her life.

Harry Styles is one of those people.

Immediately, Harry and YN hit it off, talking about their experiences in the music industry, the concerts they’ve seen, the stages they’ve loved and hated. They bonded over their love for artists and the way that music is unique to everyone, and how everyone’s muse is a little bit different. YN wasn’t nosey or prying into his personal life, and to be honest, she couldn’t care less. Harry was simply Harry in those moments in the office, not Harry Styles, the pop sensation. That’s how she saw him. That’s how she always saw him, even at the end of everything.

YN knew what she wanted and demanded it gets done. Harry liked that. He made that much very clear. She was pretty much expecting it when Harry asked her out for the first time. Harry asked her on their first date the night she visited the O2 Arena for their first construction of the stage, her first time seeing it live and in action. Harry had asked her on a date a bit before he was about to go on stage when he was dressed and ready and his band was making their way and she was mingling with other techs. It was quick, caught her off guard if she was honest. “Would you get drinks with me after the show?”

And before YN could properly understand what was happening in her life, she and Harry were exchanging keys to each other’s houses and staying the night and moving in clothing and going to weddings together. Their friends called it a whirlwind romance, and many of them admittedly said it was something that couldn’t see lasting past a few months – great friends they had back then – but if she was being honest with herself, which often she was, she loved every minute of it. YN loved Harry, more than she loved anyone before him, and she wanted to spend her life loving him and loving her career.

YN enjoyed going to the studio and hearing him record the songs that would never get heard past her ears. Harry loved watching her sketch out new stage plans for artists that he adored. They loved going to concerts together, seeing her work portrayed to thousands and thousands. Mutually, they respected each other’s crafts and their dedication, and it was something that bonded them more than it separated them.

Until the dreaded tour conversation came about.

Harry wanted her to come with him, to take a year remotely and travel the world with him, with her significant other, her partner. YN wanted Harry to understand that her career came first, just like his. That he didn’t like. In Harry’s eyes, YN came first, that he would’ve dropped everything for her and she wouldn’t do the same. Harry wouldn’t listen after that, and it led to a dreaded conversation in her kitchen with their keys on the table and two glasses of wine, saying that maybe in another life this was meant to be.

Eight months later, Harry is trying to prepare himself for what it’ll be like to see her again. Harry’s never stopped loving her. Hell, he’s written an entire album of songs that no one will ever hear because they’re lyrics he only wants her to hear. He nearly sent it to her, last month, all the recordings, simply to see if she would have something to say.

Always an almost. That’s how everything has been with YN, lately. Almost called. Almost sent the recordings. Almost reached out. Harry can never do the damn thing. He can never just say it. It’s always on the tip of his tongue, one step away. Harry’s always just one step away from her.

He can see her from across the room. It’s easy to notice her. YN is so fucking beautiful. He’s always said that, that her beauty is unlike anything he’s ever seen before. He notices her before he’s even made his way to the room where all the groomsmen are getting ready. Her voice travels through the tiny hallway in the hotel and Harry stops dead in his tracks, aching at the sound. He hasn’t heard her voice in so long. Way too long. He doesn’t want to disturb her, to take her away from her friends that she’s talking to, but more than anything he wants to steal her away and talk, just talk about anything, to simply hear her voice.

YN sees Harry almost as easily as he sees her – he certainly spotted her first – and walks right to him with her signature smile printed on her lips, leaving her friends behind and waving them off when they mention waiting for her. He swallows thickly and nearly extends his arm to shake her hand – now what would she have done with that – but she is too quick for him, always has been, and hugs him tightly, whispering, “Hey, H.” Harry nearly melts at the name. “It’s good to see you.”

Hugging feels intimate in the quiet hallway, and Harry stops himself a few times from breathing her in, the scent of her perfume that he knows too well bringing back memories that existed only in the furthest depths of his memory. He smiles warmly when she loosens her grip and steps away, saying something about seeing him at the aisle and saving a dance for her, something along those lines. He was too in awe of her to be paying all that much attention, in all honesty.

Harry watched as she walked away, and silently beat himself up for not saying more.

Harry’s hand was shaking against his side when YN walked towards him at the base of the aisle. He silently told his brain to ‘quit fucking around’ but it didn’t do all that much. She slinked her arm through his and smiled, nodding towards where the other bridesmaids were already walking and waiting for them. He didn’t notice that he was keeping them behind.

Green eyes are on her the entire ceremony, and she surely notices. Everyone does. Nearly to the point where one of the groomsmen nudge his arm and make him stare at the bride for even a nanosecond. Harry shrugs it off, saying that it’s nothing and that’s he’s fine, but everyone knows that he’s swimming with regret and unanswered questions.

He is fine. Harry’s fine. He’s fine until YN walks over and says, “I think you owe me a dance.”

Harry smiles his signature smile and stands, leaving his whiskey on the table and scooting his chair against the hardwood floor, taking her hand that’s stretched out for him and bravely kissing her knuckles. YN smiles, and he knows that wherever this is going, it’s nowhere near what the worst-case scenario he created in his head might have been.

“God, I love this song,” she says as soon as they make their way to the dance floor. “I’m working on their stage, right now. They have a tour coming up, this year.”

Harry circles his arms around her waist, exactly like he used to, and brings her into his chest, their faces mere inches from each other. Her hands lay on his shoulders, inching towards his neck, and the way their eyes are staring into each other’s make him know that there is still something there, even in the slightest capacity. “Busy bee, as always.”

“Have to do something with my time,” she giggles, shrugging her shoulders and licking her lips. Harry remembers that she does this when she’s nervous, and for the first time that night, it feels like his nerves begin to ease. “How are you? How’s everything?”

“Eh, well, I’m okay, I guess,” Harry says, and he believes that to be true. He is okay. He knows better than to lie to her, too. YN has a radar for bullshit. “I wrote two albums, this year.”

“Two?” YN blinks, waiting for confirmation. When Harry doesn’t say anything in return, she continues, “That’s amazing, H. I’m really proud of you.”

Harry doesn’t know how to react to that sentiment, because, although it feels painfully good to hear, it is still painful, nonetheless. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“It’s been a while since we talked,” she says softly, sliding her arms further around his shoulders and clasping her hands together behind his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner. I, there were things I wanted to tell you, and I wanted to share with you, but I just couldn’t. Things felt too raw. I wanted to talk, but every time I would go to dial your number, it was like, a mental block.”

Harry nods sadly, almost like he’s agreeing with her. “I know. I almost called, I almost texted. Good amount of almost things. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“H, we said we’d stay friends.”

“Am I not your friend, YN?” Harry chuckles, but she knows that there is pain behind it, an aching question that is dying to be answered unless the answer is something neither of them wants to admit. “Honestly, I just thought you’d moved on or hated me. I resigned to either of those reasons. I was okay with either, as long as you’re happy. That’s all I wanted to know.”

“Harry,” she says, shaking her head adamantly and meeting his glassy stare, “that’s the last thing from the truth.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a minute or two, maybe more, and YN is beginning to wonder if this conversation was a mistake. His silence is deafening and there’s a moment where she thinks she’ll slip out of his grasp, only to feel his palms widen on her back and one hand slip away to take her hand and spin her around. Harry smiles softly and listens to her laugh, and soaks in the sound, very unaware of where the conversation will go afterwards.

Music still plays behind them, and couples come and go from the dance floor. Harry and YN mind their business, dancing quietly and leaning into each other and soaking at the moment that feels like it could last a lifetime. His hand is holding hers, his other splayed across her lower back, and her cheek is resting on his shoulder when he whispers, “I still love you.”

Her hair falls down her back and across her face when she turns her head on his shoulder, and Harry reaches forward with their interlocked hands and brushes it away from her cheek. His expression is neutral, calm, and she can barely tell if she was meant to hear the confession or not. “Harry.”

“I still love you.”