#i drew more but i thought this one slapped by itself so my other doodles will be posted later i guess

[hashtagdrivebywrites]

Y'all bear with me on my bad phone pictures and excessive notes lmao, but, uh, ask and you shall receive.

Here's my concept art for Jason in my fic Imprint, where he's a halfa and Danny's biological dad and the king father/king regent? of the infinite realms.

Here's the first ever sketch I did somewhere around chapter 2 or 3:

Featuring larval Ghost!Jason, Pit madness/Lazarus Water and little bitty Ghost!Danny.

I was already thinking about the possibility of a crown but didn't know what to do with it yet so I just left a halo as a placeholder DBZ-style, which you'll see in the next few concept stages until I finish the latest one.

Ah, the oldest concept I had for the Pit is that it laid dormant in Jason's mind and would physically pull itself out of his head, which is why it's kind of half melded with Jason's helmet in this one. And I'm still kind of considering that idea, but I'm leaning more towards it coming from the bulk of Jason's body instead, as we see it in chapter 8 of Imprint when readers get to see Jason's ghost nonsense from an outside perspective. They (the Pit) is definitely more tiger-like now, and you'll catch a glimpse of a sketch dump where I'm trying to get a handle on tiger shape language (?). They'll still be water based and colored like the pits/a lagoon. It may be hard to picture- just trust me.

Uhhh let's see....the "lantern ribcage" is a part of the design that's really important to me so you'll see me consistently playing with it as I go through these early concepts. That's his core nestled in the lower part of his ribs, visible but protected behind the iron cage of his bones.

I wanted to incorporate Jason's helmet and other parts of his vigilante/hero uniforms in his ghost form since that part of his life is deeply personal to him.

I also knew that I wanted him to have a very monstrous aspect to his design- and I can't resist slapping pointy teeth on any of my concepts that deviate from being strictly human. So those aren't going away. Nostrils to breathe smoke and fire so Jason can better emote with most of his face being metal.

Danny's default ghost form, opposed to Jason's will still kinda be the one he has in his original dimension- black and white suit and the classic DP symbol on the chest, but probably better armored and with a bat emblem thrown in somewhere. So thats what I drew him with here- though little kid sized, with an added black streak in his hair to complete the inverse of the Lazarus Pit streak he has in human form.

In ghost form, when Jason needs precision, his go-to weapon will be the All Blades, which I have kinda illustrated here.

I may kinda set the bones of this design aside to use as a more humanoid ghost form that's closer to his living form, but that's still up in the air.

Here's concept 2, which I did on chapter...5? I think? Which is when I decided I wanted to make Jason's most comfortable ghost form to be kinda big and outrageous:

This one's got some notes doodled around it- but I'll type them out in case you can't read my handwriting.

Jason was definitely leaning more toward dragon (and I'm still trying to find the balance between dragon and phoenix that works nicely for him, but we're getting there.)

I decided not to put heat pits on his face recently so that the parts of his head modeled after the helmet are smooth metal armor. I tried to elongate the head but still keep the lines of his helmet in the design.

This is also the first time I started messing with horns- which have been bent in just about every direction at this point trying to make them mesh well with the rest of his design. The uppermost notes in the image mention basing the shape of his horns off of one of his weapons. I thought that the flaming all blades would just be overkill at that point and decided to play with using the Kris knife he gets from the League. Which is....still overkill but it's less fire to draw, so we'll call it a even. There is also a note on my decision to make his horns into a pair only because of being Bruce's second son and the second Robin. (I have put way too much fucking thought into this if you haven't figured that out already).

Tried a different look for the teeth and ended up scrapping it.

I also started leaning more into making his back look as messed up as possible at this point and started thinking of the....mountain range in plated rows like a croc's back.

And here's concept 3, which also starts playing with colors and the all-tail, no-legs look that I decided to stick with:

This is definitely the biggest jump between concepts so far and was sketched up while writing chapter 7, which I think is the first time we get to experience his ghost forms (there's 2 that we saw in that chapter).

So I continued to smooth and lengthen the head and tried a different thing with the teeth- which I kept. I also felt a lot better about the lines from the helmet with this concept. I tried curling his kris knife horns forward, trying to play with their form. Those have changed since.

This is the first time I added hair, but it's hard to see. He, like Danny, has an inversed streak of black at the front of his 'do to reflect the Lazarus stripe.

Again with the halo placeholder because I was still on the fence about the crown. Started trying to make the mountains of his spine more volcanic looking. Don't know if I'm keeping that or not yet.

So the three major differences between this and it's predecessors is the 1) mantle of smoke that is constantly being expelled from his body that is supposed to imitate a kinds cloak/mantle; 2) the tail, which has since been changed into a fiery tail instead of a ghostly one; and 3) I slapped his Robin 'R' from the movie UTRH on him to make this form more...him, I guess, and also to make Bruce cry like a baby.

So the things that I have changed is the ribcage, the shape of the horns, the crown (which finally has a rough design and a name based on the fight he has to win to earn it- yes, I already have that arc scribbled out and will most likely be adding it into the story) and I added some extra stuff to the face to match the written descriptions in Imprint.

SO. -Claps hands together- I'd love to hear your thoughts on everything, and I am always interested in hearing how y'all have interpreted these characters for yourselves.

If this is something you want me to do again with other character designs, let me know and I will. I am working on Jason, of course, and the Pit, Frankie boy, Danny's big long boi form, Gotham and some other odds and ends.

(Whoops forgot tags again)

[yayforocs]

OLD ART PART 3!!! WHEEEEE!!!

still in february 2015 :VVV

i made a gif!!! of myself!!! look at that why did i never post this anywhere!!!! hello!!!!

i'm like 99% sure that i drew this bc of the production of aida that my brother was in, but it was like way back in 2009 or something so maybe we dug up the dvd and watched it?????? dunno but i'm pretty certain that's supposed to be amneris

and i did post the tiny here but i never posted the full pic!! which. i can see why sdfkljs but also i do like the interaction itself so i'm posting it now anyway

...a coresilence douglas that i never posted???? huh.

march 2015 V:

this used to be my mobile banner for ages just bc i wanted something to slap on there dklsgs

wasn't sure i'd ever get ahold of the original pic again but yO!! here we are!!

this one is just titled 'why bother' :( unfortunately i went through A Lot mentally around this time period, and there are quite a few doodles i think i made around this time and the next couple years that i never posted anywhere bc they were Too Edgy or Venty or just plain depressing to me. i honestly don't quite remember why i drew this, i think it had something to do with feeling like i was losing friends? maybe? i'm not quite certain honestly.

april 2015 :0

core and i did a little doodle rp character funsies exchange between robin and douglas and this was a response i drew but ended up never using :V

may 2015!

a couple different banners apparently! probably for my rp blog. i don't remember using either of these, but i'm assuming i probably did, atl for a little bit

ahaha oh wow i genuinely have no memory of this huh. absolutely no idea on why there's a jarring disconnect between the first eight and the last two but shrugs!

-oh this has made me realize i now have Much More to post on robin's toyhouse huh

i've also got a lot from july 2015, but uhhhh i say it's a lot bc it's for a lyric video i wanted to make to jason walker's echo :VV there's quite a lot done and HONESTLy i thought i'd lost all of it bUT the firealpaca file!!!! i've got the firealpaca file!!!!!!! aaaa!!!!!!!! so it's all here!!!!!!!!!

there's also this kdlsfjds

and then we skip all the way to march 2016, which is the last folder i have :(

literally my first attempt at a nuzlocke and i'm dying i can't believe i never posted this dlkjfskjl God what a run

hey does this technically mean i've made a complete nuzlocke comic? --shot

anyway that's not actually from 2016! that's just when i scanned it, i made that wayyy back in 2011, possibly even 2010 :V but there's no way i'm not including it in these posts sdklghs

ok so i did actually post this a while back, but then when i started working on locke'd in i went through and deleted all my nuzlocke art posts even slightly relating to it bc of 'spoilers' or w/e, these are some of my mons from a different run that... i dunno, i guess i just restarted or something? not actually sure why i didn't finish this one. i think i was going to cameo these girls in the comic or smth so i poofed the original post

atl i think, i could be thinking of any of the other like. five different teams i was planning on cameo'ing.

GOD THERE'S MORE BUT IT'S FNAF AU AND IT'S BIG BIG SPOILERS DO I. DO I POST.

I AM WARRING WITH MYSELF SO BAD OVER THIS.

I DON'T THINK I CAN LET MYSELF POST IT AUGH

but GOD i kinda want to :waugh: one day..... one day i will post EverythingTM

buT YEAH THAT'S ALL OF IT!!!! THERE'S SO MUCH RECOVERED ART I'M!!!!!!! :WIGGLE:

dude i didn't even start looking on this flash drive for art i was looking for old writing sdklfjdskjl

[froqpi-art]

no one in this fandom but that wont stop me

[li-karina]

The Girl in the Bakery (Part 1)

It was another one of those days where Adrien Agreste just wanted to be someone else. Even with the glamorous lifestyle that came with his last name, there wasn’t anything that could outweigh Adrien’s craving of freedom. His entire life had been presented to him on a silver platter, except for the fateful day he received a black and red box. With Chat Noir, his superhero alter-ego, nothing stood in the way of being able to go wherever he wanted.

Maybe with the exception of Ladybug—not that he minded the hold that his partner-in-crime had on him. It was hard not to follow Ladybug anywhere she went, as her confident energy and natural leadership made her addicting to be around. 

She truly was the perfect woman in Adrien’s eyes. Beautiful, courageous, selfless, determined, yet stubborn, strict, and utterly irresistible. Ladybug was also a good kisser, not that Adrien would remember. The heroine in red had completely captured the heart of Paris, as well as her second in command. 

Rarely had Adrien been let out of the prison he called his home; however, with the powers of his miraculous, it was easy for him to escape out his window and into the world. He didn’t enjoy having to transform anytime he wanted fresh air, but it was the only way he wasn’t followed by his bodyguard or his father’s assistant, Nathalie. All he had to do was leave the record player on, echoing out the sound of Chopin or Beethoven, and he would get away with a few hours of free time. 

Usually, once Chat Noir’s feet hit the concrete of a deserted alleyway, he would turn back into Adrien and carry on his merry way--maybe take a walk through the park, get some ice cream, and avoid paparazzi as much as he could. But on this particular day, his leather suited counterpart seemed more appealing. Perhaps he was hoping to catch Ladybug on a daytime patrol or wanted to scale the Eiffel Tower, but something about staying Chat Noir just felt right.

He launched himself from roof to roof, occasionally waving at those who spotted him. His black ensemble made it harder for him to be seen due to the sky growing dark, but his green eyes and small yelps of joy made it very obvious to citizens which hero was out. Perched on the Louvre, Chat Noir hummed softly to himself. “Little kitty on the roof, all alone without his lady…”

“Chaton?” a voice spoke, ringing into the air with a sweet tone. Chat’s eyes darted up, settling on the blue eyed beauty standing behind him. A genuine grin stretched across his face, before replacing it with a smirk. Standing up quickly, Chat’s hand engulfed Ladybug’s and he pressed his lips to her knuckles in a playful kiss.

“Good evening Bugaboo,” Chat said, bowing slightly in a joking manner. “Nice of you to join me on this beautiful night.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes before taking a seat and gesturing for Chat to sit back down next to her. “It’s nice to see you too, kitty. But I can’t stay for long.”

Chat Noir’s smile fell before plopping himself next to his lady and clearing his throat. “Are you busy tonight?” he asked, realizing the disappointment in his voice. “Not that I can’t handle patrol by myself! And if there’s something you need to do, you can totally go do that.”

A light-hearted giggled escaped Ladybug’s mouth. “As much as I appreciate your concern, you know I can’t tell you to pro-”

“-tect our identities. I know. But you know that I care about you even without the mask. Whoever’s behind there, I still lo-” he cut himself off. “All I’m trying to say is that it’s not the end of the world if I know one detail about you. The real you.”

Ladybug stared at Chat for a few silent seconds, her lips pressed together in contemplation. She sighed, choosing her words carefully. Even though she knew it was a bad idea, something about his tone made her give in. “You know the bakery over on 12 Rue Gotlib?”

Chat nodded. His mom used to love their stuff. It was a rare treat he received, usually after more draining photoshoots, coming home to a box of chocolate croissants from Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. After his mother’s passing, he hadn’t even thought of the small business. A sudden craving for sweets came over him.

“Well, sometimes I help out over there. I’m not an employee or anything, but the owners let me take care of the smaller tasks. Like delivering cakes or working the register,” she said, her voice turning less professional and more care-free. A soft expression blossomed on her face, making Chat’s heart melt. 

Finally. He knew something about the woman he was so helplessly in love with. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. It was enough. Chat smiled. “Thank you for telling me. You can go if you need. I can handle it if Mr.Pigeon gets akumatized again.”

Ladybug laughed. He loved her laugh. “See you later kitty! Bug out!” And then she was gone.

Chat found himself staring after her with a lovesick smile. “Bye m’lady.” 

Clearing his throat, Chat turned around and once again started jumping from roof to roof. Landing on top of his own manor, he was about to swing back into his room, but a sudden hunger stopped him. He knew Nathalie would call him to supper soon, but if he was going to end up eating alone, he was at least going to eat something he wanted. 

Not that he disliked the meals provided to him by his chef, but the diets and cleanses got a little overwhelming at times. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the taste of a certain flaky, delicious pastry. 

Before he could even process what he was doing, Chat felt himself making his way to 12 Rue Gotlib. Staring at the lit up windows and catching a whiff of the sweet aroma, he suddenly dropped down and was standing in front of the cute building. Peeking inside through the glass door, Chat caught a glimpse of a girl sitting at the counter, idly doodling in a notebook. 

Something about her--her eyes, her dreamy intensity she had aimed at whatever she was drawing, or the way she looked like she needed someone to talk to-- drew him in. Chat’s breath got caught in his throat as she glanced up, causing him to dart into the dark shadows beside the building. He thought for a moment.

“Plagg, claws in.”

The small kwami that was just in his ring shot out. “Adrien? What are you doing?” 

“I just wanted to go in for something to eat. I promise I’ll be quick,” Adrien entreated, looking at his supernatural friend with pleading eyes.

Plagg sighed. “Fine. But once we get home, I want cheese,” he said before going to hide in Adrien’s overshirt.

Adrien took a deep breath and smiled--and in he went. 

The girl in the bakery looked up from her notebook, immediately closing the book in front of her and smiling politely. “Hi! How can I help you?” Her voice was as sweet as the atmosphere around them. The way her eyes sparkled made it impossible to look away. She was gorgeous.

Adrien smiled back at her, taking extra careful steps. She looked so delicate that the blond couldn’t help but put extra effort into being as gentle with every movement. “Hello,” he finally said. His tone was soft, and made his voice sound more silky.

Adrien’s eyes wandered around the small bakery, everything looking delectable. His mouth watered with every new item he noticed.Then he saw the chocolate croissants. His finger pressed against the glass directly in front of them. “Two please.”

The girl nodded. She grabbed a box and a bag and began packing Adrien’s order. Meanwhile, Adrien racked his brain trying to think of something to say. But before he could even come up with a coherent thought, the girl was already handing him the bag. “It’s on me. You look like you’ve had a rough day. I hope it gets better.”

Adrien stared wordlessly at her. “Oh, thank you. I just haven’t been here in years, so it’s a little strange being back.”

The girl hummed in response before speaking. “Why’d you stop coming?”

“My mom died.”

Adrien mentally slapped himself in the face. The slightly taken back expression on the girl made him feel even worse.

But then she returned to the kind smile she had before. “I’m sorry for your loss. Feel free to come in anytime, okay? I’ll have a warm croissant ready for you every time.”

He stared at her. “I...never got your name.”

“Marinette. Yours?” She looked back at him expectedly.

“Adrien. Adrien Agreste,” he replied a smile finally painting itself back on his face. 

“Adrien? Like from that one ad?” she asked, giggling.

Adrien laughed along with her. “Yeah, exactly like the one from the ad.”

Then a woman walked in from the other room, looking like an older version of Marinette. Probably her mother, Adrien thought.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Adrien. Hopefully I’ll see you again, goodnight.” Marinette waved, before disappearing behind the wall guarding what seemed to be the kitchen. Adrien waved back, not that she could see him do so. Without another word, Adrien left.

He walked back to his home while the sun set behind him. Plagg floated alongside his companion with a knowing smile. He knew who Adrien just met, and it killed Plag that he couldn’t tell anyone.

 It was maybe 7 P.M. and Adrien knew someone would probably check on him soon. The bag of boxed croissants hung around his wrist, tempting him to eat one right there. But he waited.

“Plagg, claws out.” 

The small black cat had a look of dread before he was sucked back into the silver ring. Once Adrien was back as Chat noir, he jumped to his room just in time to hear a knock on his bedroom door. “Adrien? Time for dinner.”

“I’ll be right out!” he yelled before transforming back and heaving out a held breath. The croissants were set on his desk and he readjusted himself. Plagg flew out, his intentioned set on the mini-fridge filled with camembert.

Well he’s all set, Adrien thought as he opened his door and started downstairs. His thoughts were filled with celebrations. Today was a good day.

(Quick Author’s Note: Hi! Okay, this took me hours to write but I think I;m okay with it. Sorry for no Marichat in this part, but I wanted to set up a relationship between Marinette and Adrien first so he has a reason to visit her in the first place. Hope you enjoyed!)

[dzamie-oc]

14 - Sea

I just... I really like that "here there be dragons" thing, okay? It got the imaginations of old timey bards and seafaring boasters going, and it gets me thinking about dragons, too.

Length: 1600 words Rating: G Summary: A sailor goes exploring in what he thinks are uncharted waters. He finds them perfectly charted.

-----

William checked his boat’s navigator against the old map spread on the table. It wasn’t a treasure map, and a lot of the handwriting on it was barely this side of legible, but it was one of his father’s most prized possessions, and he intended to finish it. The old man had always insisted to him that it already had been, but Will was no fool. Written on the space just - he checked his speed - just five minutes away was, in large script, “Here There Be Dragons.” He’d tried to explain to his dad that that was what old cartographers would write in unexplored areas, where the unknown was speculated to have fantastical, unreal beasts, but all that ever got him was a condescending smile and a shake of his head.

He wasn’t going to deface the map, of course; he was raised better than to mistreat old heirlooms. He was, however, going to fill in the region on a copy he’d made. Probably with some little doodles of fish, unless an island popped up real soon. Until then, of course, there was little reason not to enjoy the salty sea air, so Will set the navigation computer and strolled out onto the deck to watch and listen to the waves.

The sun shone splendidly down with only a few clouds in the sky, and its light glittered off the wide, open waters. Will half wished he’d brought some fishing equipment, though admitted to himself that it would mostly be there for habit - an excuse to just sit back and relax while pretending not to be wasting time. After motoring to the middle of the “Here There Be Dragons,” noting the surprisingly shallow depth on the fathometer, and anchoring his vessel, the amateur sailor went around the deck, trying to see anything of note in the area. He thought he caught a glimpse of a fish over one side, but other than that, nothing, after the better part of half an hour. 

He made a note of the somewhat shallow water on his map, and went to draw the anchor back up. However, the thought of relaxing in calm waters tugged at his mind, so he stayed his hand and instead settled himself in a chair outside the cabin. After all, he reasoned, he had budgeted ample time to explore an uncharted island or a somehow still-floating derelict, so he might as well use it for a nap. And like that, to the sounds of the waves ebbing and flowing atop the water, and gently slapping against the boat’s hull, he let himself fall asleep.

“...rwater? Captain Bradley? Is that you? Wow, time has been good to you!” a female voice said, rousing William from sleep.

Groggy, the sailor stretched, then squinted towards the voice, shading his eyes with his hand. “Miss? Who... why are you out so far? There’s nothing here.”

The voice made a confused noise. “Hm? I live here, don’t you remember? Oh no, did you somehow lose your memory?”

William shook his head. “Gimme a second, here.” He rose from his chair and stumbled slightly, catching himself on what felt like damp leather. “Thanks, but ma’am, you’re soaked!” Finally, he was able to clear his vision and adjust to the sunlight once again, and nearly fainted dead away at the sight.

“Well, SOME of us swim through the water,” said the scaly, blue-green... creature. One forepaw was outstretched to keep William balanced, and her hindlegs were easily a dozen feet past that. She resembled an eel, with her long body and her even longer tail, sporting a single fin down her length, and her head was almost avian with its triangular shape and beak-like muzzle, except she was absolutely covered in scales, and sported a single horn right below her eyes. The shape of her face didn’t lend itself to smiling, and nor do many animals express themselves with a smile, but the tone of her voice told him plainly of her happy, playful attitude.

Will realized he was staring, and tried to figure out whether it was more important that he was staring at a very large, potentially carnivorous creature with claws and what must be a powerful tail, or staring for an awfully long time at someone who thought she was familiar with him. Before he could come to a conclusion, however, the creature drew back and veritably strutted about the deck, striking a pose and showing off the profile of her horned head. “Hey, I hardly blame you for looking, when what you’ve got to look at is a dragoness as beautiful as me. But, seriously, are you okay, Bradley? You’ve hardly said a word.”

“Sorry, who do you think I am? I’ve never been out here,” Will admitted, then took a careful step towards the cabin. “Please don’t kill me.”

“You’re not Captain Bradley Clearwater?” the dragon asked, “then... why do you have his boat? And look just like him?”

“No, I’m William Clearwater,” he replied, half out of habit, “Bradley was my fa-”

The two of them stopped and stared at each other in shocked silence as the pieces clicked into place.

“Bradley had a kid!?” she shouted and rushed towards Will. “And he didn’t TELL me!?”

Will, to his credit, displayed a phenomenal reaction time, diving away from the lunging sea monster. Peering out from the cabin door, he saw her hesitate, then take a step back. “Also, uh,” she said with less energy than earlier, “I’m not going to kill you. Or, well, I’d rather not. Decency aside, Bradley would be pissed if I killed his kid.”

The sailor took a tentative step out of the cabin, though stayed close by and warily eyed the dragon. “Okay, first thing’s first, I’m dreaming, right? Fell asleep on the open ocean, and my mind is making up some sort of benevolent sea monster who knows my dad?”

The creature shook her head. “I don’t think so, unless you’ve been asleep for longer than you’ve been alive. I’m just one of the only dragons who let humans see us. How is Bradl- your dad, anyway? It’s been awhile.”

“He...” Will sighed. “He passed away a few years ago. That’s why I have his boat.”

“Oh. And you came to tell me the news?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t even know you existed - er, no offense. I just came because of a map he made that had been bugging me.”

“Ooh, a treasure map?” She stepped forward, her body lightly wiggling from nose to tail. “Can I see?”

Will looked at her still-wet body, and thought of the aged paper map. “I’ll... here, let me show you the copy I made. It’s not a treasure map.” He ducked in, grabbed his map from the table, and walked over, holding it so they both could see. “See, the only difference was that his map had a “Here There Be Dragons” in this empty spot, so I came to finish exploring.” He blinked, then looked at her. “Also, I don’t think I caught your name?”

“Well, if you were your dad, I wouldn’t have needed to tell you, so I haven’t yet. I’m Carol,” Carol said. “If that’s the only difference, I’d say it is a treasure map.”

“Wait, what?” Will stared frantically all over the map, looking for some hint or clue or anything that he might have missed, that Carol had somehow seen immediately. “How?”

“The real one says “Here There Be Dragons,” right?” She stepped back and raised a forepaw to her scaly chest, standing proud. “I’m the treasure!”

“No, it’s a shorthand that medieval cartographers used to represent... ah, nevermind.” Will smiled. “In that case, I think I’d like to get to know this treasure, at least for a couple of hours before I head back.”

“Awesome, I love talking about myself!” Carol chirped. “Plus, you definitely have to catch me up on the last... three hundred moons or so?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Will returned his map to the cabin, then emerged onto the deck once more to pass the time with his unexpected guest.

-----

Dragon and sailor spent the next few hours talking, teaching each other about their cultures, and just hanging out in general. By the time William had to leave, he had grown bold enough to ask if he could feel her scales - on purpose, this time, and Carol was more than happy to show him just where on her head to rub, and then joked that now, he was obligated to do that more, the next time he visited. After he said his goodbyes, Carol dove over the side of the boat and into the water. It surprised William, how little her leap made the boat rock back and forth, and what small splash she made, in spite of being easily four or five times as long as he was tall.

Carol helped lift the anchor, even though William tried to explain that it was an automatic thing now. Once it was all up, they bid farewell one last time, and then William started up the engine. With Carol keeping her neck and one forepaw above the water, the two waved at each other for a bit as they receded into their respective distances, and then the dragon vanished beneath the waves, leaving the man to his thoughts.

William looked at his map, thinking about his original plan for the trip - to prove to himself (and his father’s memory) that the map really was incomplete. He stared at the little mark he made on his map, noting the unexpectedly shallower waters he dropped anchor in. And, with a confident, humorous smile he suspected looked like the one his dad gave him whenever he brought up the old map, William put pen to paper, making sure to write in the correct place, and write legibly:

“Here There Be Dragons”

[monstersandmaw]

Male shadow/room monster (Lamorak) x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

The first-prize winner of my giveaway from a little while back, @honeysugacube, requested a tentacled shadow/room monster for the 3k story, so here it is!

Content: Reader is both touch- and affection-starved, feeling distant and detached from her family who provide her with things and objects instead of the warmth of affection, equating them with love... In a version of her own fairytale, the reader gets the friend and affection she longs for. Wordcount: 3825

___

Leaving the campus and the stresses of your course behind you, you stepped onto the bus and drew out your phone to text your mother. ‘Just leaving - I’ll be home in half an hour or so.’ With that done, you slipped your earphones into your ears and turned up your music. Moments of your day replayed in a random shuffle through your mind, but always you felt always on the outside of things.  

Your classmates had arrived at the lecture that morning and immediately hugged their friends, slapped each other on the back, and blurted questions and anecdotes from their weekends, while you doodled quietly on the edge of your notebook, waiting for the professor to show up. It wasn’t that you had no one, but they had different classes, and when you did share lunch together, there was nothing between you like the depth of friendship you saw with that group in particular. You didn’t really see them outside of a university context, and you’d never been all that good at making friends.  

The bus jolted and you blinked, realising that you’d drifted off into your reverie, and now the bus was pulling away from your stop. It wasn’t that far to the next one, so you pushed the stop button and slouched to the front of the bus, bag slung over one shoulder.  

Closing the front door behind you twenty minutes later than you’d intended, with sore shoulders from lugging your book bag all that extra way, you sighed. The hall light was off, casting odd shadows across the walls and floor, and as you kicked your shoes off and one bounced off the skirting board, you thought the shadows shifted just a little bit, drawing back, almost as if they’d tried to shrink away from the blow of your shoe. 

You frowned, but paid it no more attention than that, and headed for the kitchen. Your father stood at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables while your older brother lounged nearby, nose buried in his phone. It had been a little quieter around here since your older sister had got a job about three hours’ drive from the city, and you were still getting used to that absence, like an instrument missing in a group while the others play on regardless. You were the only one who really seemed to notice the difference.  

“How was class today?” your father asked without looking up.  

“It was fine,” you said as you poured yourself a drink. He didn't comment that you were later than usual, and perhaps he hadn’t noticed. You’d learned not to bother trying to elaborate on the intricate details of your day to your family. It wasn’t that they didn’t care about you, so much as they just… didn’t engage. You’d spent a good five minutes with your mother telling her about the first day’s lectures last year, and once you’d finished, she’d said, “I’m glad it went ok. Would you like rice or pasta with supper?” That pretty much summed up your relationship with your family; they were good providers, but there was no warmth.  

As your father finished with the vegetables, he asked, “Are you planning on going out with any friends for your birthday next week?”

You shrugged. “Maybe.” If you’d been honest, you’d half forgotten that it was your birthday anyway. You hadn’t made any plans, worried that anyone you asked would either accept only to be polite or would find somewhere better to be and leave you feeling worse than before about not doing anything.  

“You’re still up for going to that Italian place round the corner though, right?” your brother butted in from the other side of the room.  

“Sure?” you shrugged. He and your parents loved Italian, so that would probably make for an easy evening all around.  

“Great,” he grinned and turned back to his phone.  

A week later, you woke in the pre-dawn of your birthday and felt absolutely certain that there was someone in the room with you. With a gasp, you sat bolt upright and stared at the door, but nothing was out of place, and there was clearly no one else there. With your heart pounding, you sighed, feeling the ghost of a touch on your face from some lingering dream that you only half remembered. Fingers had been stroking gently down your cheek, and combing through your hair, a soft voice whispering that they were proud of you.  

Sighing deeply, you flopped back into the pillows with a groan. The more you thought about it though, the sharper the details became. The fingers had not been fingers, but soft, smooth tentacles of dark grey smoke, and there had been milk-white eyes blinking in the darkness; four of them.  

“What a way to start my birthday, huh?” you mused aloud. With another sigh, you rolled over and pulled the covers up around your ears.  

Hours later at breakfast, your parents gave you your presents - a modest list of things that would have been useful to almost anyone your age at college, and, with a small degree of fanfare, they offered you the latest iPhone, telling you how much you deserved it for working so hard and making them proud. No one gave you a hug though. It was hard not to feel ungrateful as you cradled your new phone in your hands, and the guilt that accompanied the sentiment troubled you. They loved you, of course they did, and they showed it by providing you with everything you could want. Except what you actually needed in the truest sense of the word…

Conversation at dinner that night was mostly centred on your father’s work, but there was a bit of discussion about the progress that your brother’s favourite team had made through the league tables, and your mother even asked you about the assignment you’d been struggling with a little bit the last week. “I got an A,” you smiled and her face lightened instantly.  

“Well done. I knew you’d do us proud.”

Your hand twitched on the fork, as if you’d been expecting her to reach over and squeeze it, but she didn’t. She topped up your glass and chinked hers jauntily against the rim instead, the cold glass chiming oddly in the busy restaurant.

Back at home your brother nudged you in the ribs and tilted his head curiously. “You ok? You were kind of quiet tonight…”

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just a bit tired.”

“Ok, look, I was going to give this to you earlier, but I thought I’d wait til tonight. I know you used to read all those creepy fairytales under the covers as a kid and play with all the dolls mum and dad gave you…” and with that, he handed you a badly-wrapped parcel, the selotape lifting off at one end where it had refused to stick to the brown paper. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m kind of shitty at wrapping.”

“It’s alright,” you smiled. “Thank you.”

Awkwardly, he flashed a smile at you and walked away, leaving you standing in the hallway with the present he’d pulled out of his jacket pocket where it'd been hanging on a peg on the wall. From the weight of it and the shape of the package, you were certain it was a hardback book. As you swept your fingers over the cover, the light above you flickered off suddenly and you glared up at it. In the absence of light, the shadows seemed denser somehow, and you shivered, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling slightly. A heartbeat later, and it came back on. With another shiver, you left the hall and headed upstairs.  

Alone in your room, you unwrapped your brother’s present.  

Old, slightly cracked leather bound the book, and it had metallic corner pieces to protect the edges. It was only about as long as your hand from palm to fingertip, and there was nothing on the cover at all. Opening it carefully, your nose picked up hints of a scent like distant woodsmoke, herbs, and something akin to petrichor. Inside was written a phrase in Latin and, with the help of your new phone, you discovered that it meant, ‘In the heart there lives a shadow’.  “Odd title,” you murmured aloud.  

The story itself, thank goodness, was written in English, in an archaic typeface that might have looked at home with a first edition of Dickens or something.  

‘In a house on the hill above town lived a young girl,’ it began in typical fairytale style, and despite the cliche, you found yourself falling further and further into the story. It spoke of the daughter of a witch who had grown up feeling isolated, her mother always working. The parallel hit you hard almost immediately and you wondered if your brother had finally noticed how your family behaved towards each other. Dismissing it as a fluke, you turned your attention back to the book.  

To make up for the lack of time the spent together, the witch bought her daughter gifts, and among one of those gifts was a small chest, meant for jewellery or trinkets. When the girl opened the chest, however, she found a pool of inky liquid that stirred and rippled when she dipped her finger into it, the fluid never leaving any trace on her skin. She left the jewellery case open on a table in her bedroom, and that night when the sun went down, when there was only candlelight in her room, a small black cat crept up to her.  

You smiled as you read the next bit, having spent the whole of your childhood longing for a pet that you could share some kind of connection with; a cat to curl up in the creases of your duvet, a dog to play with… frankly anything would have done, even a goldfish to swim around in circles in a tank, but your parents had said no. The dream of one just appearing one day had been a near-constant one for you. The little girl in the story discovered that her cat was not a normal cat and was in fact a creature formed from the strange darkness in the chest.  

As she grew, the creature changed shape, eventually taking on the form of a young man. “You’re happy tonight,” he said as the two of them lay on a grassy hillside, gazing up at the stars.  

She reached her hand across and touched his strange, smoky skin. Beneath the twisting mist that surrounded him like an aura, his body was smooth and hard, cool like leather, and as he linked his fingers with hers, she said, “I have you - I have a friend. I’m no longer alone.”

Tears rolled down your face as you finished the story, leaving the little book open in your lap. Never had you felt more alone than in the wake of finishing that strange fairytale. “I wish…” you sniffed, smearing the back of your wrist under your nose. “I wish I wasn’t so alone all the time…” you hissed bitterly, before you began to laugh softly to yourself. Your whole body ached, right down to your bones, and your chest twisted, leaving you feeling wrung-out and empty.  

Heck, you’d probably even have taken a shadow monster yourself for a friend in that moment, and no sooner had you thought it than something moved across the room, startling you out of your tears. Blinking to clear your vision, you watched a shadow growing slowly in the middle of the empty floor, like a spreading puddle. A moment later, you thought your ears must be deceiving you as you heard a soft, rasping voice whisper, “Please don’t cry… I can’t bear to hear you cry.”  

“What?” you breathed, sitting up and staring wide-eyed at the rippling darkness in the centre of the room. Fear clenched your heart so tightly you wanted to scream, but you weren’t sure you had enough voice.  

“Please… don’t be afraid… I swear I will never hurt you,” the entity murmured, and the surface of the small pool surged and rippled before quietening down.  

“What are you?” you hissed, heart thudding. “How is this happening?”  

“Don’t you remember me?” came the response.  

You stared blankly at the shadow. “Remember you?”  

A gentle smile crept into the voice of the creature you couldn’t quite see, and you heard the voice say, “When we were both very small, we used to play together. I’ve grown up here alongside you.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered as a flood of memories you didn’t know you still had rushed across your mind. “My imaginary friend… I… called you Lamorak…”

“Indeed you did. After one of the knights of Arthur, I believe,” he said, sounding amused at that.  

You paused and then swallowed nervously. “So… if you’re real, then what are you?”

“I… I’m honestly not sure. I believe that I am formed of the shadows in this place, and that I was partly conjured by you when you were young to fulfil the needs of a young child who was often overlooked.”

“But… how is that possible?”

The darkness rippled again and the voice answered, “Magic, most likely. The force of a wish can be pretty powerful, especially in someone very young.”

“Tell me you’re the only one like you that lives here,” you demanded, a twang of anxiety shooting through you at the thought of innumerable shadow beings hiding in every crevice of the house.

“To my knowledge, yes,” he replied.  

“I… I think I remember you in a different shape…” you said after staring for another few seconds at the mass of ebbing shadows on the floor, breathing like an ocean on a sandy shore. It was true, though you hadn’t thought about Lamorak for years. Your mother had dismissed your talk of the shadow boy for childish fantasy, and you’d started to see and think of him less and less after that. Forgotten, he had apparently banished himself back to the shadows of the house but had never left. Something about that made your heart hurt all over again.  

He chuckled and said, “I take many shapes now.”

“Do you have a favourite?” you asked shyly, realising that you were no longer afraid.  

After a little pause, he asked, “Would you like me to show you?”

“Yes,” you said, breathless with excitement for the first time in a long time.  

The shape began to shift and move, rising up and filling the space in the centre of the room to a height of six and half feet or so; it was difficult to be sure because the shadows that surrounded him like an aura were constantly moving. There was a part of his ill-defined silhouette that was clearly his head, and from it, four milky, silvery eyes blinked at you, all slightly out of sync. From his broad shoulders down, he got stranger and even less humanoid; his arms looked more like tentacles, writhing slightly, and as you continued to stare at him from your bed, you realised that there were more of them behind him, and the two which were most prominent were just the largest of them. His legs too were not humanoid, but were a seething mass of tentacles, some thick, others almost wispy, ending in tiny coils of mist like candle smoke.  

“Wow…”

“You’re not the only one who’s changed a bit,” he chuckled and you warmed to his dry sense of humour instantly.  

“Yeah, but you were supposed to be my imaginary friend… Emphasis on ‘imaginary’…! Come here,” you smiled and he obliged, if somewhat tentatively.  

“Not so imaginary after all,” Lamorak breathed as he neared you, shadows frothing and roiling around his lower tentacles like waves around sea-kelp. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted as he drew to a halt in front of you.

You got slowly to your feet and stood beside your bed, dwarfed by his presence, but instead of being intimidated by him, your stomach twisted and you began to cry again.  

“Hey,” he murmured, leaning down and bringing a soft-looking tentacle to your face. He drew the very tip of it across your cheek, and you watched the shape of his eyes change from almost completely round, like giant pearls, to pinched tight at the outer corners, as if worried. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I… I feel awful that I forgot you… I… I didn’t know how much I missed you too…” you sobbed, and in a heartbeat you felt his arms wrap around your body. Darkness enveloped you and you let it consume you utterly.  

The peaceful thum-thum of his heartbeat was all you could hear for a moment, before a different noise rose around you. Gentle whispers, like spring leaves tickled by a soft breeze, filled your ears and mind, and when you lurched back, suddenly recalling having heard them before in moments alone in your room, he cocked his head to one side and shrank back. “Did I hug you too tightly?” he asked, half joking, half worried.  

You shook your head. “You’ve always been here, haven’t you?”

He shrugged slightly, all the tentacles on his right side heaving and shifting. “I’ve mostly been dormant in the basement,” he admitted. “But I have come to see you sometimes. When you’re lonely, you call to me. I don’t think you know you’re doing it though.”

“The whispers…?” you asked.  

“I think it’s these,” he said, first looking at one tentacle and then bringing more up to touch your cheek again, and you shuddered violently as sparks of inexpressible joy flashed across your whole body. “You like that?”

“Mmm,” you said, another tear escaping your eye. “I… I don’t understand…”

“Understand what?”

“Why that feels so good…?” you admitted. “It’s… I… Is there something wrong with me?”

In an instant, he had picked you up in his arms and sat you down on your bed. “No,” he reassured you, even as he drew back slightly to give you a little room to breathe. “No, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just… alone.”

“Why did you show yourself to me tonight?” you asked, hoping to distract yourself from the way your hands were trembling and your skin felt suddenly too tight all over.  

Lamorak gestured at the bed beside you and said, “May I sit?”

“Sure.”

He leaned in close and nudged his side against your shoulder; it was the gesture a familiar friend might make and it brought a lightness to your chest. He was still tall and you also liked the way you had to look up at him. “You’re hurting but you’ve stopped noticing. You felt it all over again tonight when you read that story, and… well… I felt it too.”

The aching in your chest redoubled and you leaned into his welcoming darkness. “It’s like my wish came true,” you breathed.  

“May I hold you?” he asked in a voice as gentle as velvet.  

When you nodded and whimpered, “Please,” he drew you easily into his lap, as if you were still a child, and allowed his dark tentacles to hold you while you curled up against him.  

“Lamorak,” you smiled as exhaustion washed over you and you let him stroke your cheek and your hair until you drifted off to sleep.  

He came to you night after night following that first reunion on your birthday. Six months later and your grades had gone up, you’d become marginally more confident and sociable at university, and you’d been invited to three people’s birthday events.  

Returning after the latest one, you shot down the corridor and into your bedroom. Going still as you reached the middle of the room, you looked around. “Lamorak?” you whispered and the darkness beside the wardrobe coalesced into his familiar, tentacled form as he stepped out to greet you. “I had so much fun tonight!” you grinned, elated and buzzing. “Thank you for encouraging me to go!”

“I can feel it,” he chuckled, approaching and lifting your chin. “You look happy.”

Easily you stepped into his arms, but something felt different that night. The bond between you and this shadow creature suddenly drew taut as a bowstring and your heart began to pound as you sensed the slight change. “Lamorak,” you gasped as his tentacles touched your neck and throat with searing affection, yet more winding around your waist and thighs. “Oh my god… that’s… that…”

“You want me to stop?” he purred in your ear.  

“No!” you gasped, and a tentacle slithered up your spine, beneath your clothes.  

Shaking, you tipped back into his hold and let him carry you to the bed. “I want you,” he said. “I want to show you how much I love you…”

“Please…” you hissed, throwing your head back as his shadows skimmed under your bra and brushed over your nipple. “Please…!”

Slowly, with the reverence of a pilgrim at a shrine, he undressed you, taking care to keep caressing you all the while with his many other tentacles. His four, pearlescent eyes blinked rapidly, though none of them at the same time, and as he worked you closer and closer, delving inside you and circling your clit enough to make you gasp and moan and cry out against his dark body, you caught a glimpse of his mouth for the very first time. A long, horizontal slit in the blackness of his face opened up, revealing a maw of pointed teeth, and a black tongue, long and languid.  

He dragged it over your thighs and stomach, over your hips, and finally down to enjoy the taste of you. Again and again his tongue savoured you and sent waves of pleasure throughout your whole body until you almost forgot how to breathe and your skin felt aflame.  

“Perfect,” he moaned against your body and you felt the echo of it in your mind. The constant whispering of the shadows around his tentacles rose to a cacophony as you bucked and heaved, heat coiling inside you.  

“I’m…” you cried out just before you came.  

Lamorak held you while you clenched and heaved, stroking you tenderly all the while, caressing you and kissing you until you finally fell back into the sheets beneath you. Your body was wrung out and tingling all over, and every time he moved even a little bit, you twitched again. He gave you kisses and told you in hoarse whispers how beautiful you were.  

“Don’t leave me,” you whimpered as he adjusted his tentacled embrace around you, and he washed slowly back over your body in a tide of darkness.  

“Shh,” he crooned. “I’m here. I’m always here for you. As long as you need me, I’m here. And I’m always yours.”

With those words echoing in your mind, you drifted quietly to sleep, naked in the safety of his arms.

—

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[yuusa]

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟓

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟎𝟗𝟎

𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟓:

“Her eyes. . .” Your mother trembled as you reached out to her with your smaller hands. “They’re filthy.”

You felt the sharp sensation of pain hitting your cheek as you stumbled back onto the floor. You stared up at your mother with shocked eyes while she glared back at you. You propped yourself on your elbows while you felt the sting of her slap still resting on your cheek.

“M-Mom. . . ? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t call me mom!” She screamed, pulling on her hair as her body trembled with anger. You started to feel extremely scared in the moment, your mother was going through another breakdown.

“Shut up shut up shut up!” She wailed, hitting the walls of your home while you back yourself up against the opposite side, trying to keep your distance away from her. She screamed in rage before throwing some of the tablewares at you while you held your arms up, shielding yourself from the barrage of silverware that collided against the bruises on your skin. 

“Mother. . .” You began to tear up when she walked towards you, her hand outstretched and raised before giving you another slap against your face. Her (h/c) hair framing her face while it pooled over her shoulder, her lips caved downwards to a frown as she stared down at you with hatred. 

“Cover your eyes. I don’t want to see them.”

You tightly shut your eyes as you felt your mother roughly pulling on your hair, the forceful feeling making you terrified of the idea that your hair might even be ripped out of your scalp entirely. She began dragging you across the floor and shoving you into your room, the door slamming shut right behind you with a thud as her footsteps slowly disappeared.

You laid in the cold ground, breathing a sigh of relief as you began cracking your eyes open to stare at the large altar within the room. It was still decorated with various empty bowls and incense, albeit a bit messy and thrown together. The figure of God staring down at your pitiful, childish body with their hardened gaze.

“God. . . Please save me.” You reached out to the figure weakly before your arm fell down to the floor moments after, your energy weakening by the second. Your vision starts to blur as you try to keep your eyes open at God, begging them to free you from this prison. 

You gasped and sat up from your bed, your heart pounding as if someone was knocking on it vigorously. You covered your mouth as you felt your stomach beginning to clench itself, you were feeling extremely sick and you desperately wanted to throw up.

“It was just a dream. . .” You whispered, “it was all just a dream.”

You felt the cool drip of liquid fall from your eyes and onto your lap, your hand reaching out to stroke the cheek your mother touched. Beads of sweat were dripping down from your neck as you struggled to breathe. You choked up a sob as you tried to control your cries.

How many more years must you suffer this curse?

You brought your hand up close to your eyes, your nails only inches away from the skin as you stared into your palm.

You wished there was a way to end this torment.

Your arm began to shake as you tried to stabilize yourself. You tightly shut your eyes before reeling your hand back, lulling yourself back into bed while you continued crying. Your chest started to burn as you struggled for proper oxygen. You pulled the sheet over your head, engulfing your entire figure in darkness as you found yourself slowly drifting away in the sea of emptiness.

You mindlessly drew in your journal, drinking your second carton of milk while you sat on the rooftop with everyone else. Yuki eyed you carefully, noticing that you had taken off your bandages and there were dark circles under your eyes which you tried to conceal with a bit of makeup.

Did something happen to you last night? He continued to eat his meal as he sat near you, listening to the rest of the group talk to each other. Although you joined them this time for lunch, you seemed to be spacing out quite a lot more today.

He saw earlier that one of his fangirls had shoved you against the wall, but you left as quickly as he came to the scene. The moment you left, you had a really nasty glare and the other girls seemed to have fallen to the ground out of pure intimidation. 

You seemed to be more tired and angry today, perhaps you didn’t get enough sleep? That was something he assumed but as he leaned over slightly to peer at your notebook, he can see you were writing down your thoughts about dreams. It was rude to take a peek at your journal, but curiosity was getting to him.

Today in Home Economics you were also quite sluggish when it came to cleaning up. There were times where you accidentally dropped the bowl or almost cut your finger which earned you a light scolding from the teacher about your health. She had previously asked you if you needed to see the nurse to rest but you openly refused her offers. He leaned his cheek against his elbow as he observed you. Uotani turned her head towards Hanajima, whispering into her ear as Tohru conversed with Kyo, clearly too distracted to pay attention to what they were saying.

“The Prince is staring at her again. . .” She whispered, covering her mouth with her hand to conceal their comments. “What do you think he is thinking about?” 

“Indeed he is. I wonder what has happened, earlier (L/n)-san wasn’t doing very well in home economics.” Hanajima replied, spooning rice into her mouth as she started to chew, “she seems to be really distant today.”

Uotani hummed while simultaneously nodding in agreement. Yuki looked around him carefully before shuffling himself over to you quietly, trying not to gain the attention of other people. You noticed his sudden change of position and turned your head towards him, causing him to flinch awkwardly as he started to sweat. 

“Sohma-san, are you alright?” You asked.

He sweatdropped as he cleared his throat, “I was just wondering if you were feeling alright today. You looked very tired during class, you should have rested in the nurse’s room.” 

You shook your head, “I’m fine, it was just a small slip up.”

I wouldn’t say spilling a bowl over your classmate’s head is considered a slip up, he thought. He sighed before finishing his lunch and watching you continue to fill out your journal for the day. 

“Do you have work today after school?” He asked. 

“No, but they have a small celebration party, I just don’t think I feel like going.” You replied, doodling a small bird at the corner of the page. “I’m not really close to anyone there, and I don’t really consider work parties fun, most of them are adults drinking alcohol and I’m only a student.” 

“Hmm. . . I see.” Yuki vaguely remembered his earlier conversation with Tohru, saying that her family was going to take her back in and she will be moving out of their house soon. He wanted to sigh but restrained himself in front of you, he didn’t want to bring up any more problems in front of you right now. 

“Are you coming over for dinner over the weekend?” 

“Maybe, I have to pick up groceries and run some errands, are you fine with waiting for me?” You tilted your head up to look at him. 

He gave you a smile, “of course.” 

You quickly turned away from him with a small blush dusted across your cheeks, “t-then. . . I will. . . come over.” 

Hanajima whispered over to Uotani, “she is blushing, I wonder what they are talking about.” 

“Maybe something about love?”

“Possibly, she’s fidgeting quite a lot actually.” Uotani nodded in agreement. 

Tohru spoke up, scaring both the girls, “what are you guys talking about it?” 

Uotani quickly pulled her into a circle, careful to not disturb the time you had with Yuki as they huddled together. Kyo awkwardly sat by the side, not understanding the situation whatsoever. 

“Tohru, the two of them are talking, you see that?” Uotani mentioned. 

She peered over the blond girl’s shoulder and saw Yuki staring at your journal constantly as you continued writing, the two of you engaging in a conversation that was too quiet for her to hear from a distance. Tohru’s smile seemed to have widened as she turned back to Uotani.

“You’re right!”

“Of course it’s right in front of you!” Kyo angrily whispered, oddly paying attention to the circle despite not actually being fully part of it. He wouldn’t want to attract Yuki’s attention during this time, which seemed out of character for someone such as Kyo. 

“So, what do you guys think they are talking about?” Hanajima whispered, “I feel a wave coming from them, but I do not know how to describe it.” 

“Maybe they’re talking about. . . love!” Tohru swooned.

Kyo rolled his eyes before flopping onto the floor, his arms underneath his head to serve as pillows, “you think that rat would actually talk about love? He’s an absolute airhead.” 

“Hm. . . The prince does seem like the type to not be interested in love.” Uotani placed her finger on her chin as she focused on her thoughts. “Maybe they’re talking about food. . .” 

“That may be true, I am also thinking about food,” Hanajima added.

“You just had lunch!” Kyo replied. 

You and Yuki purposefully ignored their conversation, instead, focusing on your journal which was starting to pile up with various notes and doodles. There were various drawings of animals on each corner of the page, such as the rabbit or cow. When being questioned about the choice of animals, you replied about drawing the zodiac animals. 

Once you had flipped your journal onto a clean page, Yuki spoke up, “do you like to draw?” 

“H-Huh? Umm. . .” You mumbled, “as a kid, I would draw on the floor with my fingers to pass time. Eventually, I just learned to do it with a pencil too.” 

You started sketching out a drawing of an eagle, delicately drawing the feathers of the bird as it rested within a tree of blooming flowers. Yuki hummed as he watched you draw, you pressed your lips together as you offered your pencil towards him.

“Do you want to try?” 

“A-Ah. . . I’m not really good at it so I’m not sure.” He waved to dismiss your hand. “P-Plus I wouldn’t want to ruin something as precious as your journal.” 

“So? It’s okay not to be good at something, it’s better to try and have fun doing it.” You responded. 

Yuki swallowed his own words as he processed your line. Trying something despite not being good at it? It seemed like a death wish to him as he began to doubt his own skills. You might even laugh at him for being so terrible at drawing or mock him on the inside, either one was horrible for him. He definitely couldn’t live with the idea of you lau-

“Sohma-san, if you think I’m going to laugh at you I’m not.” You said, pulling out a second pencil to continue drawing the flowers on the tree, “not everyone can be good at something they never tried at. It takes a lot of experience to make something look good. . . Besides. . . .” 

“Most of the things you do are already good enough. . . ” You whispered, albeit too quiet for him to have even picked up your words. 

He smiled before taking up one of your pencils, “I guess you have a point.” 

You slid yourself closer to him so that the page would be in the middle, your voice guiding him on anything he felt unsure about drawing. Your shoulder bumped against his but you ignored the feeling, focusing your attention on drawing the details of the bird. He lifted up his pencil to begin drawing his part of the page while the others stared at the two of you silently. 

For the rest of the lunch, Yuki was drawing a small rat sitting next to the eagle on the blooming sakura tree. The animal leaned up against the bird in content. Although messy and inexperienced, you found this memory to be precious to keep within your journal. 

[swordmaid]

creator tag meme

tagged by the local angel @giuseppearcimboldo thank you so much lizzie!

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

VERY happy i can fill this out because i’ve been so productive this year lol. also this is all gonna be jb bc ive been RELENTLESS and spamming and i would apologize but i wont lmao 

1. jb eros/psyche au.

i am talking about everything i have done for the au btw, because i’ve done quite a handful of things and honestly i really love all of them--even the doodle ones which rarely happens. anyway, i love this au in general. i think the tale is perfect for them, and i’m happy with the works that i managed to put out most esp this one that’s based on canova’s sculpture of eros and psyche. translating sculpture into digital art was interesting since it was all about converting the weight and structure of the sculpture into the screen and i think i managed to do it imo! i love how brienne looks heavy in his arms, i love how strong jaime looks holding her up and i especially love the way i shaded her dress to mimic the lines that the statue has. all in all, this au slapped and i actually want to do more of it but i have no inspiration right now. 

2. jb as classical art series. 

honestly i never thought that this was going to be a series lol i thought it was just a two time thing, but then i did another one, and then another one, and then another one and now here we are. i love all the pieces that i’ve done for it actually. my favourite thing is that they’re all not direct translations of the original art. there are some aspects that i’ve taken and adapted while also putting my own flair into it. i love the reverse colour scheme with klimt’s kiss and my own rendition of it. the gold being the accent highlight in a field of murky brown/black whereas klimt has the black squares present to emphasis the richness of the gold and yellows. i also like the little thing i did where i put the geometric shapes outside of the subject instead of inside (what he did). i put on the tags that i didnt like how it turned out but i actually like it lol i just didn’t like how long it took me i get too impatient with my art i think. anyway. i love this whole series sm i think all the pieces have their own character, and tbh i always get nervous adding another piece into this just because all the ones that i’ve done has been so well received i don’t want to be a disappointment lool. regardless, i love classical art and i love jb and i love being able to put the two together hehe we love to be self indulgent

3. la belle fleur sauvage commission. 

aka THIS commission that was based from SD’s fic, la belle fleur sauvage. some behind the scenes with that one--that one took me SO long to do, like it was taking longer than i had wanted and i felt very bad and i am forever thankful for sd’s patience 😭😭😭. i really can’t be too mad though since i was working on the third year of my degree, but i still would’ve wanted to finish it sooner than i did. but as for the art itself---i actually love it lol. i always say to zoom in on my stuff to see all the details but i WISH folks would zoom in on that because it’s so big and so intricate. i love how everything turned out; i love how rich the colours are, i love the composition for all three panels, i love how the SKY looked like actually that’s the first time i sat down and painted clouds with that technique and i am so happy and pleased with how it looked im using it for everything LOL, i love jaime’s outfit in the 2nd panel---i actually designed a whole outfit for that and he DOES have his pouches and daggers, etc. stuff that he would have with him if he was a mercenary, but because of the cropping, those details were taken out but it’s THERE. i love the colours and the shading on the 3rd panel. it looks so soft and romantic and it’s everything 😭😭. honestly i didnt know if i was able to finish whole three panels just because of how big the project seemed, but tbqh this piece really pushed me as an artist and im really happy that i had the chance to work on it (-’: 

4. early morning.

this one is a more recent piece and i was thinking post canon jaime/brienne married and either living in casterly rock or evenfall hall. originally the sheets were gonna be red with the gold brocade but i just made it green to make their location more ambiguous. they’re in a castle because of the finery, but which castle i have no idea. anyway i love their faces here in particular--jaime because it’s not often that i draw him old (this is the second time i drew old jaime i think?) and i love how he turned out here. i love how he looks like a silver fox and a dilf and we really do love that for brienne. full disclosure, i have no idea how to draw older folks since i don’t have a lot of practice in that area so im glad my lack of experience doesn’t show lmao. i also love how soft brienne looks here! the little smile on her lips is very sweet, her body language and how relax she seems is very telling abt her confidence in this scene also i think i drew her hands hella well haha. all in all i think it’s a really sweet art! and the full version is not so bad either jaime’s ass was referenced from marble sculptures so you know im aiming for Quality. but i love this headcanon of a younger brienne tiring jaime out, i’ve read a handful fics about it and im happy i can do my own version of it hehe 

5. unravel.

wow we love domesticity. someone said that if you compile all my ns*w art of them together it’s like they haven’t left their bed ever since they got together and you know what? love that for them it’s what they deserve. anyway i chose this one because of how sensual and simple it is. their body language really does all the talking ; jaime’s hand pulling on the ties on her shift, her hand on his hair, how soft and lazy their kiss looks--it’s enough to tell the story me thinks! i just love how simple this whole thing is but it’s very effective. there’s really not much to it besides what you see but that’s really enough.

i am actually very proud of myself with how productive i’ve been. it’s really not often that i get as much drive and energy to post so much art. iirc my art tag is nearly 200 content already (i think it’s 180 ish rn?) and honestly that’s a LOT if you told me ill be making more than 100+ content for jb i would’ve been like nah im too lazy for that lmao. but im really proud of myself this year! i think i pushed myself as an artist and i’ve familiarized myself more with my strengths as well as my weaknesses. i have a clear idea on the areas that i need to work on, and i’ve really gotten more comfortable with being happy with my own pieces and i’m trying not to put myself down more if something doesn’t go the way i want it to. also, i’ve had the opportunity to work with more people this year--so for the people who has commissioned me or IS commissioning me rn--- thank you so much for trusting me with your visions 😭😭 ive never expected to get this kind of reception with my art but i am very grateful for all of it. 

anyway as for the tagging i tag -- @na-bruma-leve / @dreadwulf / @dilfjaime / @fawnilu BUT i would highly recommend you to come along and snatch this tag meme up like a little raccoon because we all should start being proud of our own works imo !!

[allofthismatters]

Here’s some domestic, early-morning Avalance I wrote while not wanting to get out of bed myself. :)

Ao3

All Sara remembers from the night before was falling asleep too early and waking up to pitch dark, rain whipping against the window, her heart pounding and hands trembling. She never did well waking up in bad weather; it felt too much like waking up on a slab of shipwrecked metal in a rushing ocean.

She remembers gathering Ava close and holding tight, her half-asleep words of comfort helping Sara’s lungs to work again. It’s so different than years past, when nothing could break through the panicked horror of her nightmares until her body had exhausted itself back into unconsciousness.

The next time she wakes up, the sky is a deep grey, muted by clouds and drizzle, hinting at daylight that’s still a while away. Her arms are empty now and she’s alone, but it’s so early and she’s still so tired that she can’t find the energy to worry.

She’s not sure when waking up unexpectedly alone stopped being accompanied by a wave of nausea and ringing in her ears. Only that now, when she does, she listens for Ava in the kitchen or the shower and doesn’t start to catalog all the reasons she may have finally given up on her and left in the night.

She moves herself to the middle of the bed and melts back into the warm linens Ava left behind, focusing on the soft rustling downstairs. The sound of Ava making coffee is so familiar now that Sara can almost see it.

She hears the bag opening, hot water pouring over grounds, one mug set down gently so that it doesn’t make too much noise, the other mug making a loud clatter followed by Ava softly swearing at it. The scrape of the glass milk jug sliding off a shelf, the clink of a spoon stirring against ceramic and the muffled slap of the refrigerator door closing.

It’s one of Sara’s favorite things Ava does. She’s not sure why—maybe just because in all the insanity of her life, she’s not used to someone who knows her and loves her well enough to take care of her like this. The smaller the thing, the more she treasures it.

She’d never quite figured out how to make really good coffee herself. It always came out too strong or too weak, and most of her adult life had been filled with much bigger problems to solve.

But Ava’s coffee is perfect—she adds the perfect amount of cream, stirs in a hint of cinnamon and always takes a sip of Sara’s before she hands it to her.

More than once, Sara had caught herself absently thinking that she wanted Ava to be the one making every cup of coffee she would ever drink. The first time, she’d panicked. Nearly gotten sick at how unguarded she’d become. It had been such a warm, fleeting series of thoughts, showing up before she could stop herself…the two of them settling into their 40s someday, Sara making breakfast while Ava scoops grounds out of a bag, moving around each other easily from years of habit…a couple of years from now in a cabin somewhere on vacation, buying herself a few more minutes before she gets up so she can lay in bed and watch Ava fiddle with unfamiliar kitchen appliances in just her underwear…on any inevitable day in their future where they wake up angry at each other, Ava still setting down a mug in front of Sara abruptly and walking away until they’re ready to talk things out.

Since when did she start thinking that far into the future? Since when did she even consider she had that much of a future to look forward to?

Since Ava, apparently. It scares her, but the more she’s let herself think of it, the more she wants it. All of it. The good, the chaos, the warm safety of a life together, and any ugly, horrible days that come with it.

Her wandering mind comes back to the present as she hears Ava’s bare feet climbing the stairs and stepping onto carpet. She sets down two cups and nudges Sara back to her side of the bed with her knee.

Sara lets herself rest in the moment. Nowhere to be, nothing to do besides watch as she reaches for her book and starts reading. It’s barely light out, the world is quiet, and Ava is so, so beautiful. Her hair is still damp and unbrushed from their hasty shower the night before, but still manages to fall in a way that makes Sara want to tangle her hands in it and kiss her senseless. She watches Ava’s lips twitch into a hint of a smile as her eyes scan the pages.

Mona had harassed Ava into reading Harry Potter and she’s grudgingly enjoying it. The copy she’s holding was Sara’s when she was young, the cover worn and margins covered in doodled words and shapes that Sara can see from where she lays. She always absently drew in her books as a kid, never able to focus otherwise. Laurel hated it, which only made Sara do it more.

She blinks against unexpected hot tears that burn the backs of her eyes. When she and Laurel were younger and occasionally let themselves giggle and daydream about their futures, it always assumed a husband for each of them. As she got older and found herself slipping away with a girl here or there at a high school party to share a bit of drunken intimacy, she told herself it was just for fun, just something everyone experiments with when they’re that age.

She prioritized the longing she felt toward boys over what she felt toward girls, because what else was she supposed to do? She’d heard the charitable but distant way her family talked about the children of the occasional acquaintance—

Oh, the Sampsons down the street said their girl is going through one of those bisexual phases… god bless them for taking it so well.

The Johnsons’ daughter cut her hair short and brought home her little girlfriend for Thanksgiving…but hey, people should be able to do what they want, right? None of my business, I guess.

She tried not to let it bother her but suffered bouts of desperate sadness at the thought of falling in love by chance with someone her family might not know how to embrace.

All of that seems so far away now, laying there with Ava, living—to some extent—the most well adjusted life her family could have ever imagined for their wild daughter.

She tries to burn the sight of Ava holding her old book into her mind and send it back through time and space to her younger self.

Don’t worry, kid, she’s more than you could imagine, and they would have ended up liking her better than they like you.

The thought makes her smile and she moves closer, pulling Ava’s robe away and kissing the side of her thigh. She grimaces at a sizable bruise that must have come from their mission the prior day—it had been fairly uneventful but left the team tired, overheated and irritable.

“Hi.”

“Morning,” Ava responds, reaching to move Sara’s hair off her face and smiling down at her.

“If Ray still wants us all to go hiking today after yesterday, I’m going to put him in the jump ship and leave him in the Stone Age.”

Ava breathes out a laugh and slides down until their faces are close together.

“I support that.” She kisses the tip of Sara’s nose and then rubs her own against it.

Sara feels her whole face break into a smile and presses her lips to Ava’s a few times, and then a few times more just because she can, before she tucks herself against Ava’s chest. The drizzle outside picks up to a steady rain again, and they nestle in closer to each other, an unspoken agreement that they aren't going anywhere today.

Sara takes her time breathing in and then back out. It took her so long to learn how to breathe again, but here she is, somewhere close to healthy, and right in the middle of happy. Happier than she ever thought she would manage. In a minute she’ll sit up and drink her coffee and maybe even get up to make breakfast, but first, she turns her mind back to an earlier version of herself one more time and thinks, with Ava’s warm breath against her hair and a lump of emotion in her throat…

You have nothing to worry about.

[hunterxassasin]

Setting the stage

Uh uh uh so here's Marinette getting her miraculous, her first interactions with Pollen will be fleshed out more later on but I wanted to have this up first! Feedback is very much appreciated! I'm thinking of calling this AU either 'A Bee in the Night' or 'Stingers and Claws' any thoughts or other suggestions?

~~~~~

Marinette was having a rough day to say the least, she had told Alya that much when she arrived at school that morning. From staying up too late caught up in a new design, to barely making it to school before being half an hour late, she was exhausted and stressed beyond belief. Ms.Bustier had reprimanded her in front of the whole class once again, being the slightest bit harsher than she had been when Marinette had been late before.  

After what seemed like eternity, Marinette and her class were dismissed to lunch. A heavy sigh passed her lips as she gathered her things and followed Alya out the door. "Girl, what is with you? You've been late to school every day of the week this week, I can let it slide once in a while but this is way more than normal. I'm worried about you. Are you working yourself too hard again?"

Marinette flinched a bit at her friends words. She knew Alya cared but having someone call her out on how much work she was doing, well it wasn't a pleasant feeling for sure. There were things that had to get done, things that Alya and in turn everyone else, couldn't understand. Designing was a hard task by itself, and being kept from sleeping by Akuma attacks taking so long to take out hadn't helped her. She had resigned herself to only getting a few hours sleep before her alarm went off, spending most of the night up doodling designs, sewing pieces together, and surfing the web. "I'm fine, I swear. The bakery has just been so busy lately! Ya that's it, and I still have to do homework and get a little designing in to stay in practice after the bakery closes! It'll get better soon I promise." She reassured, only to receive a raised eyebrow from Alya. The conversation however didn't go any further. They had been standing outside waiting for Nino to catch up with them. 

Nino had walked Adrien to his car, it was obvious from his expression that he had barely restrained himself from slapping Chloe across the face."It's like she doesn't think he has any other friends!" He huffed when he arrived in front of the two girls,adjusting his bag as they began to walk towards the bakery. Marinette had invited them over for lunch and they both happily obliged. "Isn't that how she always is though? It doesn't seem any different from what normally happens. She's stuck to Adrien's side like glue. Which sucks because we can't get Marinette to talk to him alone, and that ruins all our plans for double dates." Alya slumped her shoulders as they walked,shaking her head. Marinette squeaked, putting her head in her hands.

The girl peeked out from behind them, sending a slight glare Alya's way, which gave rise to a snicker from Nino. "How many times do I have to say it? I don't like Adrien like that! We're just friends, we don't even know each other that well let alone enough to go one dates!" She stated,opening her mouth to say more,but no words came out. Marinette's eyes had landed on an old man who was getting ready to cross the street. She bit her lip,letting Alya and Nino walk ahead of her. As soon as Alya turned around to call for her,the man stumbled,dropping his cane and his bags in the middle of the road. Marinette was quick to act, rushing over and helping the man off the ground. She gathered his groceries and got him across the road to the sidewalk as fast as possible. "Are you alright sir?" Marinette asked with a shuffle of her feet. She seemed a bit nervous, as if her act of kindness was something to be ashamed of. The man looked at her with a smile, a glint in his eyes. "I am quite alright young lady, thank you. You are very kind. By chance, what's your name?" 

Marinette looked shocked at the question, her cheeks growing red. "Uh. . .its Marinette sir. . ." She mumbled,causing the man to chuckle. He nodded and took his bag from her. "Well thank you for your help, Marinette." He said and then began to hobble off, down the street to the old massage parlor he called home.

Scrambling to catch up with her friends,Marinette had calmed herself down from her adventure enough to recount the occurrence to them, even though they had been right there. As the three entered the bakery, Sabine greeted them with a cheery call. "Good afternoon kids, I've got lunch in the kitchen for you all!" 

----

School had only been in session an hour that afternoon when an Akuma alert was sent out. Everyone was sent home as quickly as possible. Marinette, herself, had just climbed the ladder into her room when she spotted something peculiar sitting upon her desk, right next to her sewing machine. It hadn't been there before surely, she would have remembered such a pretty box. It looked old, and yet regal. She tentatively walked over, wondering if it was something her mother had gotten her. Usually she would have asked if that was the case, but something drew her to open the box right then and there. Carefully lifting the lid, it revealed a silver hair comb with the silhouette of a bee on it. She reached out to pick it up, but a bright light flashed before she could reach it. Marinette tumbled back,eyes wide with confusion and fear. 

She was not expecting what came out of the bright light, she wasn't expecting it to speak to her, but when a voice sounded from the small bee like creature she had to put her hands up to her mouth to keep herself from screaming. "Hello, my queen." The little being said with a bow, fluttering over the sewing desk. Marinette slowly made her way up off the floor,eyes still wide. She lowered her hands to her side,reaching ever so slowly for a glass cup she had sitting on her bedside table. "W-what are you?" She asked,inching said cup closer to the kwami, ready to slam it over it any second. 

The being bowed once again, a smile upon her little face. "My name is Pollen, and I'm the kwami of the bee miraculous, and I'm at your service, my queen" the kwami explained, her voice sweet as honey. Marinette calmed down a slight bit,lowering the jar to her side, she probably wouldn't need it after all. . . .

[bananaink]

Heya everyone! I wrote something for my AU :D

It’s short and pretty far into the storyline itself but I needed to let off some steam. :D Izuku is already a solid part of the class - still no official student but you get the gist. And he’s still a prankster >:]

Have fun reading! :D

The doodle incident

“MIDORIYA!”

Old used boots hit the ground and slipped on clean and shiny marble floor. 

“Shit-shit-shit-shit-”

At full speed Izuku dashed around a corner, sweating and wheezing. At the last second before he could fall flat on his side, he grabbed a students arm and accidently activated his quirk. He could feel the skin under his hand harden and the student in question grunted in surprise. Red eyes turned and a surprised grin stretched over sharp teeth and hardened skin.

“Midoriya? What’s up, man?”

Izuku used Kirishima to steady himself and took off again, leaving more surprised grunts behind.

“No time- gonna die, bye!”

He heard the telltale sound of fabric being unleashed and his breathing faltered for half a second when he felt his quirk vanishing. His fingers tingled.

“Shit!”

It said a lot about the regularity of this occurrence that Izuku dodged the first attack of Aizawas scarf without even thinking about it. He ducked his head, tucked his arms in and dove between a group of unsuspecting students, waiting in the school halls for their day to begin. He landed on his side and knocked against two sturdy legs.

Surprised squeals echoed from girls and equally startled boys knocked into each other in an attempt to step aside. Izuku didn’t need to look up to see Aizawas first round of attack to go slack and retreat. But that didn’t mean he could stop and take a breather.

“What did you do this time?”, a friendly voice piped up and Izuku nervously smiled up to round rosy cheeks and brown hair framing an amused smile. Right beside her a serious frown behind rectangular glasses fell on him.

“I’m innocent!”, Izuku panted and scarmbled to stand up again, using the powerful engine-legs to prop him up, slipping and then running again.

“Of course you are!”, Ochaco laughed simultaneously to Iida Tenyas “No running in the halls!”

Izuku kept on dashing through the rapidly growing sea of students. He just needed to waste enough time for classes to start - Aizawa was too reliable to be late just because Izuku drew doodles on an official school paper, right?

How was he supposed to know that Aizawa had worked on that particular report for weeks? And that he had submitted it to principal nedzu without noticing his rather crude drawing of ‘Ereaserhead and the stick up his...’ on page five? He felt something brush his ankles and grabbed for a big student with six arms, held together like wings that stretched out almost instinctivly to his hands. Izuku held on to one of them, swung his legs up and flipped over Shoji - who didn’t even swayed. Still Izuku felt a hand gently pushing his back and after the involuntary tremor of fear he let himself be steered through the air back to his feet.

All of that happened in less  than two seconds so he not only evaded a second pursuit of Aizawas scarfs but gained more distance between him and his guardian by abruptly changing directions.

He wasted energy and waved a thanks to Shoji over his shoulder. Just in time to crash into another student and toppling to the floor. He felt the other struggle and instinct took over. Izuku made sure to land ontop - whoever he had runover - and trapped a small waist between his legs. Gasping for breath he pinned two strong hands to the floor and blinked into mismatched eyes. Todoroki - equally surprised but with a wince - blinked up to him.

“Ouch- What the-”

"MIDORIYA IZUKU! Get back RIGHT NOW!”

Aizawas annoyed voice echoed through the halls and Izuku flinched. He didn’t dare to look back. Todoroki sighed deep and puffed some hair out of his face.

“Sounds like you’re in trouble.”

Izuku felt heat in his cheeks and distress in his chest rising.

“I didn’t mean to!”

“You never do.”, came the dry reply and Todoroki wiggled his wrists. Izuku instinctivly tightened his grip - donttouchdonttouch - before he blinked, let go and scrambled to stand up. Todoroki sat up and rubbed his head, wincing.

Izuku stumbled and pushed himself forward but suddenly he felt the familiar firm fabric wrapping around his leg and he barely catched himself on his arms when he faceplanted to the floor. Hard. Immediatly his whole body was dragged back and he locked eyes with Todoroki.

“Shit.”

A slightly amused eyebrow raised, Todoroki dusted his shoulders of.

“See you in class, Midoriya.”

_

Ten minutes later, Izuku found himself wrapped in Aizawas scarf, fixed at his desk in the far corner of the classroom. His “classmates” tried really hard not to laugh and look at him. He heaved a breath, calming his racing heart. Only his arms were free and Aizawa put a pen in his hand, pointing to the stack of paper, higher than his forarm.

“You will copy and order those analytics for your classmates, classifying their strengths, weaknesses and skillevel, based of of your teachers written reports.”

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean for Principal Nedzu to actually see the doodle-”

“And you will clean up all grafities around school.”

“-and I didn’t thought he would scan and print it out-”

“And you will clean the classroom from top to bottom.”

“-to show it around! I mean you can’t possibly fault me for-”

“Start writing, Midoriya.”

Izuku bit his lip and sighed deep through his nose, listening to stiffled giggles and confused snorts around the room.

“Sure, whatever...”

Aizawa turned away as soon as Izuku took his school-notebook and drummed his pen against the blank paper, ready to start, when the door suddenly bursted open. Loud ugly laughing sounded through the room. Izuku knew who it was without looking up. Shit. If he came, then something bad must’ve happend. For Izuku.

“YOOOO! SHOUTAAAHA-HA-HA!”

No one else than Yamada Hizashi - Presentc Mic - sauntered right to Aizawa, still laughing loudly and pressing a piece of paper to his chest like a treasure. Behind the sunglasses Izuku couldn’t tell if he was nodding to him or no one in particular. Aizawa himself slumped deep, bone tired.

“Aren’t you supposed to be teaching?”

Izuku took the pen and started untangling Aizawas scarf around his legs and chair with it - maybe a little bit too hastly. Todoroki threw him a sideway glance and Sero mouthed a clear ‘what did you do?’ over his shoulder but Izuku didn’t care. He needed to get out before-

“Haa?? They’ll be fine, self-study. I’ll be back before they notice.”

He threw his arm around Aizawas shoulders and fake-whispered right into the room.

“I just thought I should let you know - the little pretty doodle from this morning...”

Izuku couldnt see Aizawas face, but in the tense line of his shoulders he could see that Aizawa probably had a pretty big vein pulsating on his forehead. Yamada peered over his glasses at Izuku, the biggest smirk splitting his face. Oh no.

“What about that?”

“Well... a few copies somehow made it out of the teachers lounge. By the window.”

The silence that followed was eerie. But by the time Aizawa turned around to glare at the one probably accountable for that, the chair was already empty. An open window creaked in the light summer breeze. Todoroki as the one sitting right next to Izuku pointedly looked into the other direction.

“Don’t take it out on the little guy.”, Yamada said and chuckled, turning Aizawa back around to him.

“He may have drawn it but he didn’t threw the copies out the window.”

Now the students slowly ducked their heads. Izuku - already climbing far away down the building - shivered.

Everyone except Hizashi Yamada felt the murderous intent building on Aizawas face. Present Mic proudly held the picture to his chest, still laughing and slapping Aizawas shoulder like a good natured friend would do who had just played a prank. Or he was potentially suicidal.

“I did! You shoud’a’ve seen you’re face! HI-LA-RI-”

Izuku touched the ground when he heard and saw Present Mic getting thrown out of the window into a nearby tree.

[leviathanpotato]

She’s not your type - Remus Lupin x oc

Part three. Nearly finished, stay with me.

Tag for @imalostredheadinablondeworld

Part one is here, part two is here.

If you’ve reached part three, you probably already know what’s going on.

Language and underage drinking. I’ve never written actual romance or angst before so this could go terribly. I don’t know what i’m doing 😱😱😱.

Sadie thought about storming straight to her dormitory, but remembered the quidditch final. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, match of the century, the common room would be barren. She had no strong feelings for the sport either way, but since Harriet was a chaser, there was no chance she’d be watching.

She sat, doodling in her diary. What was once a book with detailed descriptions for each day was now littered with aimless doodles and wistful sentences centered on Remus' hair. At the beginning of what is now fast becoming a nervous breakdown, this didn't seem weird at all, but due to their lack of contact in the recent months, it more closely resembled stalkerish obsession.

She continued to trace over a sketch of Remus she’d done. She wasn’t one to boast but this was probably the closest she would ever get to a work of art.

As she drew, she felt her subconscious nagging her. It was something about hearing the portrait door swing open. Or maybe it was about the the shadowy figure edging towards her.

With a squeak, she slammed her book shut. Remus stopped in his tracks. His eyes were wide like a startled deer. He hugged a large leather bound book to his chest. Her mind was probably playing tricks on her out of hope, but she could have sworn she saw a blush.

"Um... Sorry" He stammered. She bit her lip trying not to squeal at how adorable it was as he fumbled for the right words. "I was just hoping to join you. Sport's not really my thing." He nodded to his book hopefully.

She smiled warmly. "Sure." She nodded to the sofa which was irritatingly far away from her armchair.

He grinned and hopped onto the cushions. They both sat quietly, with Sadie stealing glances every other second, waiting for him to bring up breakfast.

After some time, she kept hearing Remus giggle softly to himself, a sound which she couldn't help but smile at. She watched him laughing to himself, for the first time in months that twinkle had returned to his eye.

"What?" She asked, grinning. He looked up, startled, as though he forgot she were there.

"There's just this quite funny bit. It doesn’t matter, you probably won't find it that good" He mumbled.

She shuffled in her armchair and patted to the space she had created. "Show me"

His eyes widened for a moment, before he stood and made his way over to the chair. He wedged himself in next to her and the pair of them were practically in each other’s arms. They both sat, content, reading together – something Sadie knew for a fact he and Harriet had never did. She thought about every time they’d hung out, shared books, music, clothes and food – each an action she did far more often with Remus than any other friend. In a snap, she suddenly realized that her feelings had been around for a lot longer than she thought– way before Harriet snatched him. Surely he’d noticed at some point?

So why had he chosen Harriet?

He doesn’t want you.

Why would he?

She pushed the thoughts deep down in her mind, returning back to the book until she heard roaring cheers in the distance.

“Someone’s scored.” Remus mumbled, smiling at her.

For once, she didn’t return the smile. “Probably Princess Wilde.” She muttered.

Remus shifted, taken aback by her sudden change of attitude. He looked into her eyes, which were firmly fixed on his book. He sighed.

“Look, if this is about this morning-”

“It isn’t”

“- I really have no clue what went down between you two-”

“That helps.”

“-but please could you try to get along-”

“Fat chance”

“-I really appreciate your company.”

“Wow, thanks” She sneered.

He was tugging at his collar now, clearly getting frustrated. He placed the book on the table and stood up, pushing her up as he did so. Whether he intended to, she wasn’t sure.

“Listen, I don’t know what has been up with you lately but you don’t have to take out your problems on other people.” He said, his tone stern.

“Since when did I have problems?” Sadie mocked his word choice by making quotation marks with her fingers. She’d been in a bad mood for a while now, this morning had worsened it drastically. All she wanted now was for Remus to go away; she really didn’t want to talk at all.

He blinked, taken aback. “Since you stopped hanging around with us, since you’ve been losing sleep, since you’ve been failing you’re classes… ooh, hang on, how about since you barely eat your breakfast anymore.” His voice was growing louder by the second, his face was becoming flushed.

“Now you notice.” She yelled. He flinched. “That’s pretty much my normal routine at this rate Remus. Interesting you bring it up after - oh, I don’t know – half a fucking year.” She fought back tears. “I guess you only care about your beautiful Harriet.”

A dark look flashed in his eyes, reminiscent of the wolf Sadie pretended that she wasn’t afraid of. “Am I not allowed to care about both, Sadie? Yes, I’ve been with Harriet because I love her but you’re worrying me, you’re my friend” – She cringed and he noticed , fury flashed in his eyes – “What? Am I not allowed to love someone? Is that it? I thought you knew how much I want to just have a normal relationship.” He raged.

“But with her, Remus. Don’t you think I’ve noticed how she doesn’t let you be herself, or how you don’t smile like you used to. She’s using you and you know it. There’s not a chance in hell she loves you and I doubt you feel much more.” Sadie pleaded desperately.

For a second, she worried that he might blast her with a spell. His hands were shaking, his wand held tight in his fist.

“I love her. Besides, it’s not like I have much choice, name anyone who could actually love me, let alone stay when they find out the truth. Name one single person.” His voice shook.

Her heart was tearing at itself, a weight plummeting in her stomach. Part of her wanted to slap him in his stupid face, another part wanted to kiss him with all the passion she had in her body. “Do you really need telling?” She whispered, thinking back to how he possibly could think that she didn’t love him.

“YES.” He half-screamed.

Before she could respond, the portrait door was flung open. First years hurtled into the room, giggling giddily with excitement. She could hear the rowdy chants and cheers echoing down the corridor. It wouldn’t take long for James, Sirius and Lily to arrive and instantly spot her foul mood. She turned on her heels and stormed up the staircase. If Remus did call after her, it was drowned out by the cheering. Sadie could still hear the cheering from her room. She buried her head beneath her pillow. If there was any place she couldn’t be in right now, it was a Gryffindor party.

It had reached 10pm and the music was showing no sign of stopping. From what Sadie could hear, someone had started a karaoke and she was forced to endure endless piss-heads wailing into their wands as others cheered.

Maybe a drink can’t hurt, she thought, knowing that she had no chance of falling asleep. She crept to the cupboard to find the closest to party clothes she had– a black denim skirt and a cropped midnight blue jumper with a glowing white wolf (she really needed to go out more). After some hesitation, she applied a light layer of make-up, choosing a colour that made the green in her hazel eyes stand out beautifully. Admiring her reflection, she was beginning to feel confident in her appearance. She’d never worn makeup or flattering clothing; she aimed to lower everyone’s expectations of her appearance so much that just changing her hair for once would get people’s attention – that way she didn’t have to put any effort into her looks.

She skipped downstairs in a pair of heels that she’d charmed to make the glitter swirl and dance like shooting stars. As she stepped off the stairs, she immediately bumped into Lily.

“Sadie! I didn’t think you did parties.” She teased. Her hair was curled and her green eyes looked more beautiful than they already did. “I... Wow, you look amazing.” She marvelled in excitement.

“I could say the same.” Sadie responded, gesturing to Lily’s adorable gold dress. She bit her lip, if only she wasn’t infatuated with Remus and Lily wasn’t taken by James. Girls are so much less frustrating.

Lily grabbed her arm in a firm grip. “The boys need to see you, you’re a stunner.” She exclaimed, pulling her over towards a very drunk Sirius being supported by and even more drunk James.

“I’d really rather not.” She mumbled, trying to pull away.

She giggled, noticing their state. “Yeah, best not. Why don’t we find Remus?” She nudged her and flashed a cheeky wink.

Sadie glared at her. “No.” She hissed. Lily’s smile wavered, but not for long. She pulled her aside to the table of fire whiskey shots.

“If there’s anything that you need for boy troubles, it’s a small break every once in a while.” She handed her two shots.

“Yes. A break that I will neither remember nor want to relive. What a smart idea, I see why you’re always in charge.” She muttered, ignoring how tempting the glowing orange drink was in her fingers. She felt the regret seeping in and a drink hadn’t even touched her lips. She turned to Lily. “If it’s all the same, I might go back up.”

An hour later, Sadie was completely hammered. Lily was laughing to herself; she always had been a happy drunk. Sadie was the type of drunk to make stupid decisions. She stumbled past a passed out fourth year to get another shot. Before she could reach it, a girl slammed a boy into the wall in front of her, the pair blocking her path as they sucked each other’s faces.

She tapped the girl on the shoulder. “Excuse me?” She slurred, but they continued snogging. “I really don’t advise lips as a nutritious diet. I think its cannibalism or something.” She pressed, growing impatient. “Also can you move?”

They ignored her, the boy flipping the blonde over so she was pressed up against the stone. Sadie recognised him as the boy who sat behind her in DADA. Ordinarily, she would have known his name but her coherent thoughts had gone skipping off elsewhere.

“OI. Squid faces. Budge over fuckers, you’re blocking the path.” That was a language choice she’d regret later. The boy pushed off the girl and she stepped up to Sadie, her stilettos giving her a clear height advantage.

“What did you just say to me, bitch?”

It was Harriet.

“Yay” Sadie squeaked, doing a mini celebration that she finally had Remus to herself-

Harriet’s palm connected with her cheek. Despite Harriet rarely doing any or her dirty work, the slap still stung like a bee sting. Unfortunately for her, Sadie was pissed, very pissed.

“You know.” Sadie paused as she tripped over her foot to reach for another bottle. “You really are an air-headed hoe with the IQ of a maggot and the common sense of a dung beetle.” She snapped. The sudden outburst drew a slow clap from Lily and a fierce snarl from Harriet.

“Yeah, sure, you may look pretty, but this is one school in one country. There are thousands more all with people exactly like you.” Sadie paused to take a swig of her firewhiskey. I really ought to put this down, she thought, as she had begun to slur her words and punctuate her sentences with exaggerated hand gestures.

“You’re all the same... the same...preening...” Sadie lost her train of thoughts.

“Bitches” Lily provided, pointing finger guns at Sadie.

“Yes... that.” Sadie pointed at Harriet whilst supporting herself, almost comically, on a random second year. “The same bitches who think they’re goddesses but don’t have the personality to match. As soon as we leave this school, what are you? Your kingdom will fall and you’ll have no one to bully but yourself and the desperate wannabe’s who stalk you 24/7. Then you’ll see yourself for what you truly are - empty. You’ll have nothing. You” Sadie stumbled forwards, jabbing Harriet in the chest with her finger. “are nothing. You don’t scare me.”

Harriet scowled at her, stepping forwards. Their noses were almost touching. Sadie could smell alcohol, but couldn’t tell if it was her breath or the blonde’s in front of her. In the corner of her eye, she could see a circle of third years gathering around them. If one of them started chanting ‘fight’, Sadie feared that she might just lose her shit.

Harriet took her distraction as an opportunity to pull hard on Sadie’s ringlets, yanking her face into the stone wall.

Sadie winced as blood pooled on her tongue. She pushed herself up and lunged at Harriet’s waist. They flew backwards, Harriet’s head colliding against the table with a crack. She yelled and rolled onto her back whilst Sadie regained her balance.

“What’s going on?” A soft voice interrupted.

Sadie gave a lopsided smile towards the voice she knew so well, only for it to collapse into a frown when Harriet pushed ahead of her.

“Remus!” Harriet gave a false gasp and hobbled forwards to grab his arm. She hissed in pain as he hugged her. Sadie noticed Harriet flip the bird at her, winking, before pretending to wince in agony once more.

Sadie was having none of it. Fury boiled in her veins. Seething, she pounced forwards at Harriet and pulled her backwards, sending all three of them crashing to the ground.

With all her effort, Sadie sent Harriet sprawling away. She perched between the girl she loathed and the boy she adored, shielding him from her.

“Don’t touch my Remus you cow.” Sadie hissed, wrapping her arms around the confused werewolf.

“YOUR Remus?” Laughter spurted from her lips. “Honey, who is it who is actually, you know, in love with him? And who he loves back?” She simpered, giving a dramatic bow as her pet harpies let out shrieking laughter.

“Really? News to me.” Smirked Sadie as she raised an eyebrow. Following her gaze, everyone turned to see the boy from earlier. Shimmering red smears were smothering his face and neck, the exact same shade as Harriet’s lip gloss. Sadie wrapped an arm around Remus and pulled him closer. He yelped in surprise.

“Like I said, MY boyfriend.” Sadie beamed at her. She gave a tiny wave at Harriet’s enraged glare. “You can begone now. It looked like you two-” She glanced with amusement between her and the boy. “- were getting somewhere.”

There were several seconds of stunned silence. Slowly, the crowd dissipated. Harriet didn’t move. She watched Remus with a shark-like, dead stare that he returned. With a scowl, she brushed herself off and dragged the unknown boy to her room.

“HA!” Sadie jumped to the air. She snapped finger guns at the door. “TAKE THAT BITCH. HE’S FINALLY MINE! WOO!”

Sadie started dancing as the marauders stared between her and an increasingly awkward Remus.

“What happened to you two having a fight?” Sirius murmured to Remus, surprisingly sober considering earlier events.

“I don’t…” Remus trailed off. Sadie had latched onto him and was swaying with the music. He didn’t move until he felt a wetness spreading down his jumper. Panicking, he moved to wipe his jumper, thinking she’d vomited, until he saw her tearful eyes.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” He steadied her with his arms. Her euphoria combined with countless shots of fire whiskey had made her incredibly drunk.

“I just… I really love you. I’ve always loved you.” She paused to wipe her nose. “And seeing you with Harriet… she’s poison, Remus. I didn’t understand my feelings so I couldn’t be around you, it hurt. But you don’t want me, ‘coz why choose you… Wait… why you choose” Sadie hiccupped, then roughly pressed a finger to Remus’ lips. “I got this… Why…” She stopped, staring at Remus’ eyes. She felt herself being sucked in. She leant forwards, tilting her out towards Remus’… just one inch to go...

Remus jumped backwards. “Woah, Okay, I think you’ve had enough.” He caught her as she fell forwards.

Her eyes welled with tears. “You don’t want me.” She sniffed. “Please, I love you.” She begged, tugging at his sleeve.

Remus felt his awkwardness take over. Part of him desperately wanted to kiss her, but a more sensible half knew that it was the alcohol talking. He berated himself for even considering taking advantage of Sadie in this state.

“Come on, let’s get you up to bed.” He said, picking her up, bridal style and carrying her up the stairs.

“Remus… boys…stairs…” She mumbled, her eyes drooping as he felt her going limp.

“Sade, you are in no state to climb up the girls stairs.” Remus cautioned her, ‘and I want to keep you close by and safe.’ He added in his head.

“Lil…”

“Is occupied.” He said, thinking back to how he left her and Sirius to try and keep James under control. James drunk was a very bad idea.

Finally arriving, Remus nudged the door open with his foot and carefully placed her down on a bed. Quickly, he wrapped her in a blanket and went to get his wand. He tried not to think about how adorable she looked snuggled in his bed with her hair splayed on his pillow.

“Smells like…you.” Sadie giggled, pulling the blanket closer. “Where’re you gonna sleeeeep?”

“You need it more.” He replied. “Besides, you know me, I’m a night owl,” ‘and you look really cute right now.’

“My...wolf” She smiled, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Love…you” She whispered. Her eyes flickered shut and within seconds she was snoring softly.

One part left...

[mbovettwrites-blog]

Blackbird - 500 Follow Excerpt

It’s been long enough. Let’s just get into it.

In the background, she heard the faint whistle of a late night train pulling into the station. At least something was still working at this unholy hour.

Only a few people emerged from the archway leading to the platforms, the thickness of the night outside dispersed by twinkling lights strung along the wall. The first was a businessman, which Maria learned first from his irate posture and prim expression and secondly from noting the expensive suit and briefcase. Next was a pair of women huddled under a scarlet umbrella, an elderly man with his pace defiantly brisk and his lips pursed in disdain as he glanced across Maria’s slouched shoulders, and a gang of students whose raucous laughter felt poisonous in the previously peaceful station.

The first thing she noticed about the students was that there were four of them, and the second was that they were all boys. Each of them was impossibly energised and bright-faced for such an hour of the morning, and it momentarily occurred to Maria that they were all drunk – then she grew sensible again and reminded herself that drinking was illegal on cross-country trains.

They were foreigners, obviously. More foreign than her. Northerners, from one of the many wealthy pockets of Verlinden or Adovya where they were expected to just casually take a train from one end of the continent to another on a spontaneous summer holiday.

Well, then, she thought, the voice in her head sounding far more stiff and repulsed than she had expected of herself, Let them be miscreants. Anyways, they’ve chosen a terrible place for a weekend away if they’re looking for that kind of meaningless fun.

Only one of them – the quietest, his arms swinging laxly at his sides rather than gesturing wildly in all directions – looked as though he could pass as a native to a Gulf Belt country. Ygar, most likely. But his company betrayed him. They looked like the kind of people whose company her mother would have enjoyed, if she were both young and present with her. He seemed fixated on the presence of an alarmingly skinny boy at his side, whose shock of coal-black hair did little to distract Maria from the fact that she could see the outline of his bones in his face and his hands. This boy was by far the loudest, letting of bouts of high-pitched laughter every other second that sounded not entirely unlike the train whistle.

His arm was slung around the shoulders of the shortest, who looked more out of place in Cuorren than Maria had thought possible. For one thing, he appeared to still be wearing his school uniform. Schools in Navarios didn’t have uniforms. Feeling a little pleased as the fact presented itself, she then also recalled that she’d read a study in a newspaper that said Navarios students were fifteen per cent happier and thirteen per cent less prone to stress and anxiety than those in Verlinden’s supposedly world-class academies.

Honestly? Maria was quite sure that the only people who thought Verlinden’s education was the best were the people who had been raised and brainwashed in it. Everyone she knew thought the school system was a mockery, designed to manufacture posh, well-to-do young intellectuals with no individuality or purpose beyond making money for their already dangerously wealthy country.

She could yet be wrong. They could be from Adovya which, though not by much, was a noteworthy improvement.

Goddesses forsake her if they were students at Hylin.

She didn’t quite have time to analyse the fourth before he had invited himself to sit next to her.

Her lips puckered in distaste as he offered up a lazy smile and a hand to shake. Quarter past one in the morning was not a good hour for her to be interacting with stuck-up people at, lest she bite their heads off like a five-headed hound. Tersely, she accepted the handshake. It was just like the ones she received from the white-shirted men Arabella introduced her to, sometimes because they were one-week lovers and sometimes because they were work colleagues from her lawyer world. She prayed that this boy would become neither.

“Evan Charlize,” he said, and then continued in extremely broken Agion, “A pleasure to meet you.”

In flawless Verlinden, she replied, “Maria None-Of-Your-Business. Try again when I’m not tired enough to sleep through the end of the world.”

The boy’s eyebrows quirked up, eyes widening slightly. The loud one half-cackled, half-wheezed, slipping easily past his companions and slapping his friend hard on the shoulder. Still in Verlinden, he howled, “Evan, my man, she just gave you a smack down! That was awesome! Matt, my boy, did you get that on camera? I’m replaying that at his eighteenth – ‘The One Where Evan Gets Showed Up by a Strange Girl’, anyone?”

Evan – Maria presumed that was the name of boy sat beside her – frowned. It was only when this happened that she noticed just how bushy and unruly his eyebrows were. They looked like tiny, sun-yellowed squirrel tails.

“No to all of that, Sal. That was not a ‘smack down’, that was just rude. Daj, teach your boyfriend some respect.”

The quiet one folded his arms across his chest. “Not my boyfriend, not my responsibility.”

Sal giggled hysterically again, collapsing against Evan in the process. Evan, Sal, and Daj – that left the uniformed kid as Matt. She decided to focus on him instead, since he was the only one who hadn’t spoken yet and therefore was also the only one who had yet to irritate her.

Daj spoke up again. “Here’s an idea that, shockingly, neither of you have thought of – maybe she doesn’t want you here because you’re making moves on her and she’s very uncomfortable with that. Matt, come on, you had to have picked up on that.”

Maria growled. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but I do have the basic ability to stand up for myself. I am exceptionally tired. Leave. Me. Alone.”

Sal’s eyes went wider than Evan’s. Pushing himself away from his disgruntled friend with a bounce in his step (which, given the ridiculous time of night, defied all logic and reason that Maria possessed), he swung an arm around Daj’s neck instead and let out a long whistle. It was at this moment that Maria’s observational skills fully caught up with the rest of her brain and she noted that Sal was, in fact, flaunting a crop top. Not that it was unusual – she had seen every fashion statement possible in her corner of Navarios – but she somehow wanted such a charismatic person to have the added bonus of knowing when it was chilly enough to wear a jacket over it.

She knew from experience back home that the nights in the Gulf Belt were as damp and humid as a fox’s armpit, but the air conditioning in the station was on overkill. At that moment, she would trade the lives of all of these boys for one minute in the heat of the midday sun.

“Whatever,” Evan huffed, standing up with a slight grunt. “We’re stuck here until the morning trams start running anyways. How long is that, anyways?”

“Ten to seven. They start at sunrise,” Maria interjected curtly.

“I was under the impression that Your Majesty wasn’t going to talk to us.” Evan’s eyes looked almost as chaotic and grey as the storm raging outside as he snapped back at her, all previous interests in being gentlemanly lost the moment she bared her teeth at him. She couldn’t care less. He’d apologise when the sun came up and the tropical warmth melted his temper tantrum away.

“Evan, even the Goddesses know you’re too grouchy to be socially interacting with other people right now. Find somewhere to sleep it off, you’re even starting to exhaust me.”

Matt had taken it upon himself to speak now. One hand was thumbing the corner of his shirt collar as he scolded Evan and followed it up with an apologetic smile tossed at Maria – the other was tucked tightly into his trouser pocket. At last, Evan decided that this was somebody he could agree with, and marched across the room to stretch all six feet of himself across the opposing bench. Back turned to the rest of them. Obviously.

“In another time, this would’ve been hilarious,” Sal said with a sigh. The corners of Maria’s mouth tugged up in an inkling of smile.

“You don’t say.”

He performed a walk that was somewhere between a skip and a strut as he went to join Evan, and Daj followed in respectful silence. Matt was the last one to speak and to go, talking and smiling over his shoulder as he trailed after his friends.

“He’ll be more polite come sunrise, I promise you. I’m sorry we had to meet like this.”

“Keep him and his temper! Didn’t plan on meeting you all in the first place!”

Leaving that as the closing statement of the tumultuous conversation, she unzipped one of her suitcases and dug around until she pulled out three identical crimson hoodies, draped them around her goosebump-ridden arms, and nestled in to wait out the storm still thundering above them.

So, this is about half of the second chapter showcasing the introduction of some other major characters (because as much as I love Ingrid, I love these guys too and they deserve some more spotlight). I would have put this out yesterday when I actually hit 500, like I promised, but I became swamped with work and sort of burned out and fell asleep a full two hours earlier than I’d normally even consider going to bed. So, yeah, that was a tad time-consuming.

I’m going to tag @kbcypher for being so supportive of this WIP and often seeming a little upset when updates are missed, @jade-island-lives for also being generally supportive and also being someone who keeps popping up time and time again in my notes, and @bitteredplum because they’re a cute art kid who is probably the only person I know IRL who I can actually stand.

They also drew a little doodle of Maria and Ingrid the last time they came over to my house, which I need to post soon

Thank you all again for 500! xx

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

ALRIGHT I have apparently a lot of things I’ve been tagged in (recently or otherwise) so we are gonna do one big post of those things under the cut here to save your dash (sorry if you’re mobile and the app isn’t doing a read more D:) - stating it now I’m not gonna tag anybody bc I took so long to get around to it oops

10 favorite characters from 10 different fandoms things -Ami Mizuno (Sailor Moon) -Elizabeth Corday (ER) -River Song (DW) -Delilah (Firewatch) -Velma Dinkley (Scooby Doo) -Molly Grue (The Last Unicorn) -Lady Macbeth (Shakespeare) -Yang Xiao Long (RWBY) -Dana Scully (The X-Files) -Tuppence Beresford (Agatha Christie)

Writing Tag 1. How many works in progress do you currently have in progress? “Just” three - Princess and the Goblin AU, a personal project, and an original work about the world’s grumpiest immortal old lady 2. Do you/would you write fanfiction? Yes and yes :P 3. Do you prefer paper books or ebooks? Paper books to own, but for schoolwork I’d much rather use ebooks as they’re a lot easier to search through when writing a paper and needing that one quote. 4. When did you start writing? Age six! We still have the word document from 2003 where I wrote an epic tale about myself helping the Boxcar Children solve a mystery in which my mom was, for some reason, a police officer. 5. Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with? Knight! 6. Where is your favorite place to write? At home, sitting on my bed. That’s where I work best in general; I don’t do well with the distractions of public places. 7. Favorite childhood book? Oh gosh. I was a ridiculously avid reader all through childhood. I don’t know that I could pick a single one, but the Nancy Drew series had me from very early on. 8. Writing for fun or writing for publication? For fun! But in an ideal world there would also be publication in the future lol. 9. Pen and paper or computer? Computer! I used to do pencil and paper when I was in middle school/high school and filled up a few composition notebooks, but I get too easily sidetracked with pencil and paper and tend to end up doodling if I try to use it for writing nowadays. 10. Have you ever taken any writing classes? I have! I did a fiction/poetry combo the summer of 2014 which was very nice, a poetry class fall of 2015, and am currently in another poetry class. One day I’ll get to have my fiction workshopped again! :P 11. What inspires you to write? Lots of things - music, dreams, other people, daydreams...

Last sentence you wrote:

She’d thought maybe she was doing it wrong, and that was why, but she didn’t quite know how to ask.

Top 5-10 songs you listen to: 1. Fire Escape by Love, Robot 2. Cherry Tree by The National 3. I Wish I Was Your Cigarette by K.I.D. 4. Pretty Girl by Hayley Kiyoko 5. Beneath the Brine by The Family Crest

that one tag thing it didn’t have a title sorry Name: Mouse Star sign: Cancer Average hours of sleep: 5-8 depending on the day Lucky number: 7 or 27 based on numbers I like, but the OCD demands repetitions of 12 or 20 so take that as you will Last thing I googled: “panko crumbed turkey schnitzel” because I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THAT WAS AND I WANTED TO KNOW IF I COULD EAT IT Favorite fictional character: Yes I Have Lots of Those What are you wearing right now: Batman pj pants and a soft green plaid buttonup When did you start this blog: May 2013 :’) please don’t go look at my first posts I was an embarrassing child What do I mostly post: Sailor Moon, Alex Kingston, helpful art things, and lately a lot of middle-of-the-night squawking about Scooby Doo Do I get a lot of asks: on the art blog! not here though lol Why did I choose this URL: River Song + memento mori

another one that doesn’t have a title I think sorry again O N E -name: Audrey || nickname: Mouse || zodiac sign: Cancer -height: 5′2″ || orientation: ace lesbian || ethnicity: white enough to make hiding in laser tag very difficult -favorite fruit: apple || favorite season: winter -favorite book: The Last Unicorn || favorite flower: carnation? -favorite scent: vanilla || favorite animal: cat -coffee, tea, or hot cocoa? no thank you -cats or dogs? cats -dream trip: I go to an abandoned, isolated castle in the middle of a wide-open field of green. no one is around. I am wearing a soft, billowy dress. I run through the halls of the castle to echoing sea shanties. in the tallest tower of the castle I sit and fill up an entire sketchbook and it doesn’t even matter if I mess up on a couple pages because I have brought sticky notes to try that cool thing where you just slap a sticky note over the mistake and keep going. -aesthetic: old empty buildings, soft blankets, girls holding hands, scuffed up knuckles and fingertips, the pages in a sketchbook where marker has bled through in just a few spots to make it look splattered, the smell of old books, antique brass pocketwatches, cold grey skies -favorite band/artist: Anberlin -fictional character I’d date: River Song, Elizabeth Corday, Makoto Kino -Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw T W O -countries I’ve lived in: US, UK I guess now? idk does it count -favorite fandom: uhh... if we’re talking about the fandom itself then Scooby Doo, there’s so little drama and everyone is just super into these goofy kids solving mysteries, it’s great -languages you speak: English, and I’m passable enough in Spanish that I could PROBABLY survive if I were dropped in a Spanish speaking country -favorite film of 2016: I have No Concept of Time and also don’t watch that many movies. did Wonder Woman come out in 2016? that’s like the only movie I’ve been to see in theatres recently. idk I apologize -last article you read: uhh something for class, so something about Gothic feminism -last thing you bought online: a maroon sweatshirt with Scooby’s face on it. I am the coolest adult and 12yo me would be proud. -how would your friends describe you: sweet but a huge dork, very little common sense, means well -how would your enemies describe you: I am always trying my best to not make enemies so?? I don’t know?

questions Nikki asked specifically 1. You spend an entire year in another time and place for the next three years of your life. When/where do you choose and why? THESE KINDS OF QUESTIONS STRESS ME OUT because on the one hand, access to everywhere and everywhen!! BUT ON THE OTHER HAND IF I GO TOO FAR BACK INTO THE PAST I LOSE ACCESS TO THINGS LIKE MEDICINE WHICH I NEED AND POSSIBLY CONTAMINATE THE POPULATION WITH MODERN-DAY GERMS WHILE IF I GO TOO FAR INTO THE FUTURE I GET EXPOSED TO BACTERIA/VIRUSES I HAVE NO IMMUNITY AGAINST. it’s a lose/lose. so... picking close enough to not do too much damage, I’ll spend one year following Agatha Christie around sometime in the 60s, mentor my younger self in 2010, and go through all of 2014 again just so I can go see the Armory production of Macbeth. 2. Okay, be honest: do you put your laundry away immediately, or does it sit somewhere in a pile for entirely too long? IT SITS AT THE END OF MY BED FOR WEEKS YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME OUT LIKE THIS 3. Describe yourself as if you’re in a fic. (Scent, appearance, aura – everything & anything is game.) “She was small and mousy, in the sense that she was a bit skittish of everything and squeaked sometimes when she talked, always too quiet for the ‘real’ grownups. She stepped lightly, and tried to take up as little space as possible, and was almost a ghost for her efforts.” 4. What non-essential thing(s) do you blow the most money on? MARKERS AND BOOKS I am a simple woman with simple desires 5. Did you have extracurricular activities as a child? Any that you wish you’d done? I did ballet and cheer in elementary school for like two years, gymnastics for a bit; journalism in middle school (say hello to the editor-in-chief of the school newspaper y��all); drama in high school - I can’t say that I wish I’d done any more actually 6. You can time travel (or not) and have your portrait done by any artist. Who do you choose? I'm gonna go with El Greco simply because his “Penitent Magdalene” haunts me 7. You’re out in public. You see a cat. How do you react? point at it and say CAAAAAAAT and hope it doesn’t run away 8. What kind of weather do you thrive in, and what can you simply not do? A bit cloudy and 50-60 degrees F is ideal. I cannot abide heat. Anything above 80 degrees is repulsive. 9. Om nom nom, breakfast! What are your favorite breakfast foods? CEREAL AND WAFFLES 10. Do you like running up and/or rolling down hills? ...not particularly... I have a weird thing about heights, and inclines do not really help D: