#i got a new sketchpad so now my drawings look fancy
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
asher-more-like-trasher ¡ 6 months ago
Text
Witchlight gang doodles!
Tumblr media
Close ups
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
92 notes ¡ View notes
bearcina ¡ 3 years ago
Text
Olarom!
Tumblr media
Welcome to my page, I’m your host, Bear! I’m a 20yr old aspiring author and OOAK doll customizer!
Masterlist (Amazon wishlist)
My pronouns are they/them/he/she/dude
I’m always looking for new friends, I don’t bite! I just write kinky stuff!
My Ask Box is always open, feel free to ask any questions!
Presenting, under the cut!: Q&A!
I see you’re here for the rest of the post!
Where can I find you off of Tumblr?
You can find me on Discord, Bearcina#5637!
My Steam is the same, Bearcina!
My AO3 is Bearcina, and here’s a direct link!
My KakaotalkID is bearcina! My kakao name is Bear'ika (little bear)
I’m on Wizard101 as Maria Rainbowbreath, a level 50-something Balance wizard, I specialize in supports, hit me up for a True Friend code! I just finished Dragonspyre!
What do you use to draw?
I use an XP-PEN brand tablet for digital work!
I do doll face-ups with Arteza watercolor pencils, soft chalk pastels, mica powder, Mr. Super Clear UV Matte Flat, and LOTS of DuraClear in Matte, Gloss, and Ultra Glossy!
My sketchpads are off-white and textured for watercolor pencils! I use Pilot pens for inking, and these pencils for sketching!
Do you have a Masterlist of your fanfics and works?
Yes, and here’s the link to the Masterlist!
I’m into Astrology, what’s your birth chart?
I am a Gemini (sun), Sagittarius (Mars), Libra (Rising), Taurus (Venus), Ares (Moon) and a Gemini (Mercury)!
What the FUCK is wrong with you?
A LOT. I’m disabled and mentally ill from some serious childhood trauma! Here’s a nonexhaustive list of my problems!:
C-PTSD
PTSD
MDD
BPD
Generalized Anxiety
Dissociative Identity Disorder
Panic disorders
More Depression, but make it ~Seasonal~
Fibromyalgia
Migraines (a LOT)
Arthritis
Herniated spinal discs
Chronic fatigue
And so many more!
I’m also autistic, I have ADHD, dyscalculia, and my brain is about as functional as a goldfish! (surprisingly smarter than expected but still dumb as a damn rock-)
What fandoms are you in? What interests you?
I currently enjoy: (current fixations are bold!)
Katamari Damacy
The Outer Worlds
Fallout: New Vegas
Fallout 4
Fallout 3
Spyro the Dragon
Hades (game)
Pokemon! (Sinnoh, Alola, and Galar right now! I have one of every gen but Hoenn)
Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Red Rescue Team, and Explorers of Darkness/Sky (I don’t have time!)
The Legend of Zelda (Ocarina of Time, Skyward Sword, Minish Cap, Link’s Awakening (all three editions), and A Link Between Worlds and many others!)
Portal
Portal 2
Portal: Aperture Tag
Portal Stories: Mel 
Animal Crossing (Check above for my switch codes to play NH with me!!)
Animal Crossing Happy Home Designer
Star Wars, specifically The Mandalorian and things related to Mandalorians! (I’m learning Mando’a with help from the Oyu’baat!)
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
Leviathan series by Scott Westerfeld 
Good Omens
Prospect (2018) (I love Ezra!)
SCP Foundation
The Penumbra Podcast: Juno Steel! (podcast)
The Magnus Archives (podcast)
Wolf 359 (podcast)
Elaines Cooking for the Soul (podcast)
MarsCorp (podcast)
Oz 9 (podcast)
StarTripper!! (podcast)
The Strange Case of Starship Iris (podcast)
Welcome to Night Vale 
Mars’ Best Brisket (Podcast)
EOS 10 (podcast)
Distractable Podcast (by markiplier)
The Sims
Sewing, I do mine by hand and machine! (ask me about my machines!)
Crochet
Historical sewing
Cosmetology (I grew up in a salon, my mother is a beautician and I love dying and cutting hair!)
Acrylic nails (they’re so pretty!)
ToonTown ReWritten (Find me as Fancy Lolipop the bear or Deputy Biscuit the deer!)
Wizard101 (I like playing!)
Gardening
YuGiOh (I collect the cute cards >w<)
Martial arts (I did karate for many years and i got my black belt! I also like playing with rope darts, though I’m not good!)
Tarot Cards and other such fortune telling things, I’m a pagan and a witch!
Any other questions? Send me an ask!
17 notes ¡ View notes
angeli-marco-writes ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Dean & Seamus - At Last
A/N - 1.8k word blurb I completely forgot I wrote. Bringing this out of the archives, enjoy.
Warnings - slight cursing and angst, fluff, mutual pining.
Summary - Years of tiptoeing around one another and hidden feelings come to a head when Seamus finds a stack of art beneath Dean's bed. At last, something might happen.
Tumblr media
“Hey Dean?” Seamus calls, breaking the silence of the half empty common room.
The two of them sitting together on opposite ends of a very comfortable and very small sofa with feet entangled in a contorted knot is not a rare occurrence, and everyone knows that the two like to be as close as possible. Dean has a notepad on the arm of the sofa, artistic pencils on the coffee table as he sketches away to his heart's content, while Seamus has a pack of muggle cards, teaching himself card tricks.
“What is it?” Dean replies, glancing up from his notepad to meet Seamus’ sympathetic gaze.
“Do you still have that muggle magic book? This isn’t going great.”
Dean chuckles, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm, deep brown eyes twinkling under the dim light from the candles. The way he watches Seamus when he isn’t looking is with nothing but pure adoration, not necessarily the way that friends should look at one another.
“Dean?” Seamus calls, suddenly much closer than before, kneeling in front of Dean’s legs now curled beneath him without his knowledge of putting them there.
“Uhm, the book? Yeah, it's under my bed. Careful you don’t find a banshee under there.” Dean says jokingly, curving his arm around Seamus’ torso to bring him closer, discarding his art for a moment, savouring the sound of Seamus’ laugh like music to his ears.
He stops thinking, and just exists for a second, only able to do that when Seamus is so close to him, chests pressed together, hearts beating as one, breath mingling and all inhibitions lowered. If he had a little more belief that Seamus shared his crush then he’d go the final step, bringing their lips together for more than a fleeting moment. If only he knew that Seamus in fact felt the same, equally as strong, equally as lovesick and just as scared of rejection. So for the meantime, they stuck to their own personal affections.
“I’ll be back in a minute, and I’ll call you if there’s a banshee.”
With a fleeting kiss that Dean pressed to Seamus’ cheek, the latter had disappeared up the stone stairs to the dorms.
On his way up, Seamus finds himself thinking non stop of the way Dean’s soft lips felt pressed against his cheek. Not like they haven’t kissed before, but every time it excites him, still bringing butterflies to his stomach after four years.
Their first kiss was in a game of juvenile truth or dare in second year, where Seamus revealed he’d never been kissed, and Dean was then dared to kiss him. That was the moment, for Seamus at least, that he’d realised he was gay - or at the very least, not straight.
It was half way through third year that the two had grown accustomed to holding hands and sharing clothes, stealing cheek kisses and cuddling on the odd night. None of this changed, even now they’ve become sixth years.
Seamus throws the door open to the dorm and leaps across to Dean’s bed, forever more comfortable than his own. He lies over it, inhaling Dean’s scent that he’s so used to wrapping him up whenever he sleeps. Oak and paint. The strangest perfection. After a moment of thought, he pulls up the west ham blanket, the oversized knitted quilt that the two made one Christmas night when they got far too cold, and finally the red sheets so that he gets a better look beneath the bed, which just so happens to be crammed full of random shit.
“Bloody hell Dean,” he sighs with a gentle smile, lighting his wand and sliding off the bed onto the wooden floor, preparing himself for a search.
Seamus sits and sifts through piles of books covered in dust, albeit in neat piles and just about alphabetised (all much more organised than his own), and a couple of boxes before he finds their old magic book.
Just as he moves to put everything back in its place, he comes across a locked trunk of chestnut wood and gold edges. It’s triple locked by the looks of padlocks atop the built in securities. But Seamus can’t help thinking, what does Dean have to hide from him? He’s always said “what’s mine is yours”, and that they know everything about one another. What could Dean possibly be so ashamed of that he didn’t even want Seamus to see? Chuckling at the first immediate thought, he pulls the box out and peers through a crack. It looks like… old notebooks?
“Cistem Aperio.” he utters the words used to unlock the trunk, only to find out that the padlock is a fake one and that the box itself only had one lock. Maybe the faux measures were to stop the other boys finding it, and not Seamus, but once opened, he’s astounded.
Piles of notepads and sketch pads fill the border of the box, but what’s in the centre is the most disconcerting. It’s Seamus, on canvas, ten times over. All from different angles, painted with watercolour or acrylics, all at different stages of completion because on some, the pencil lines are still apparent. Sure, Seamus knows that Dean is a bloody good artist, and Dean’s asked him to be a model once or twice, but this is another level. And even though he probably should, he can’t find it creepy.
He turns over a couple of the older canvases dating back to the bottom one, a mix of acrylic paint and heavy pencil shading. ‘Seamus, 7th April 1994; I wonder if you think of me half as often as I think of you.’
His heart stops just for a moment. Does dean… no chance. No way, there’s no way that Dean fancies him too. He could have anyone in the school, why would he fancy his dorky Irish friend?
He takes out a couple of the pads, opening to reveal pages of sketches of Seamus. The two together, Seamus at the lunch table, by the lake, with other people or asleep in Dean’s bed. Just the sight of Dean’s talent makes his belly flip. The curved pencil lines, the soft brushes of his coloured pencils, the perfect shading wherever it needs to be in the different photos. Each one has Dean’s signature, a date and a title in the bottom right hand corner., but some are a little more smudged with, tears?
He grabs the most recent sketchpad and tucks it beneath his arm, going to open a note pad filled with dozens of poems and quotes, but the most common one hits him hard.
‘You have to let it all go. The way he kissed you, the way he smelled, the way he touched your waist and pulled you in. You have to let it go and you have to let him go. Because he’ll never love you that way, he’ll always be your friend, and he’ll never be yours.’
That’s essentially all the confirmation that Seamus needs to realise that Dean’s liked him all this time. How could they have been so stupid, avoiding each other and never confessing?
He rips the page out of the notebook and runs out the door, the leather bound sketch pad bouncing in his clutch. He bounds down the stairs as ungracefully as possible, taking them two by two, his shoes resounding on the stone and hereby making a racket that the whole common room can here.
Seamus appears at the bottom, breathless and flushed as opposed to covered in soot, but his eyes are filled with a new flame.
“Dean,” he pants, eyes darting over to where he's curled up in the same spot as before, knees tucked under his chin with an art pad on the arm of the sofa, tucking his extortionately expensive pencil behind his ear when he sees Seamus all hot and bothered.
He stands, towering over everyone as he takes quick strides across the room, his breath hitching when he sees the sketchpad tucked haphazardly beneath Seamus’ small arm.
“Sea, please,” he begs, eyes brimming with tears to match Seamus’.
They stand an awkward distance from each other for a minute before Seamus takes the final step and closes the gap, gripping Dean’s tie and pulling him a little closer to his own height.
“Did you draw these of me?” Seamus asks with a raspy, trembling voice, filled with anguish and longing.
“Yes.” Dean murmurs softly.
“Did you write these poems about me?” he waves the tear stained page of perfect ink in front of Dean, making the taller boy swallow thickly.
“Yes.”
“Were you ever going to tell or show me?”
“Maybe one day.” Dean says guiltily, averting his eyes to the floor for only a second before meeting Seamus’ intense gaze once more, the flames behind the freckles on his cheeks a little intimidating.
“Do you, do you love me?” Seamus asks finally, taking a leap of faith, one that is finally reciprocated.
“Yes. Yes, so much.”
That’s all the ammunition that Seamus needs to tug Dean’s lips to his own, crushing them together and engaging in a fiery kiss of nothing but long awaited passion and love. Their tears dissipate as Seamus weaves his arms around Dean’s neck, and his curl around Seamus’ waist, lifting him up like he weighs nothing. Seamus deepens the kiss, licking along Dean's bottom lip to request an entrance which is more than eagerly granted, allowing them to explore each other's mouths finally. Dean lets out a muffled moan when Seamus bites down on his lower lip, the most heavenly sound Seamus has ever heard. Dean squeezes the ass that rests on his hips just for a moment before sliding his hands beneath his jumper, his dark palms running over Seamus’ milky skin, the perfect contradiction.
They become so enveloped in their bubble of passion, tongues dancing tantalisingly together, that they forget they’re in the common room, awkwardly withdrawing when the need for oxygen becomes too dire.
However, instead of the angry shouts and disgruntled faces they expect, it’s actually faces of sheer relief and lazy smiles all around.
“About bloody time!” Ron shouts.
Dean chuckles softly, lowering Seamus to the ground. The pair scrabble for their stuff, grasping it in uncoordinated handfuls, stuttering apologies before darting upstairs. Once at their dorm, they slam the door shut and throw their belongings elsewhere without a care, fighting over who gets to pin the other against the door.
“Have we really been dancing around our feelings since we were twelve?” Dean asks, trying to keep his focus on the time being while Seamus works tirelessly at the bottoms of his shirt, leaving kisses everywhere in his wake.
“Yes we have. And that means we have five years to make up for now.” Seamus quips, bringing Dean’s lips to his own once more, moving to enjoy their time together, at last.
123 notes ¡ View notes
writtenonreceipts ¡ 4 years ago
Note
If you're taking prompts, maybe for feysand - Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see person B smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, but this is your stop, i hope you slept well"
<33
Oh my darling anon, I am always eager for prompts! Thank-you for sending this in! I altered just a few minor things, ie trains and not not busses and the diologue is just worded diff... and then over indulged in my own whims and fancies, just a touch.
2.7K words of fluff and awkwardness...all i know is awkwardness so ya know...
 #
Strangers and Favors
Exhausted.  Tired.  Sleepy.  There were far too many ways to describe what Feyre was feeling.  Not even the coffee in her hands was doing anything to give her the boost she needed.  
Amid the chill of morning and the slowly growing light of dawn, Feyre found herself hurrying from her car in the park-and-ride lot.  She practically flung herself up the small steps that led to the train platform and into the first train car she was near. 
She’d been running late that morning and nearly missed her alarm.  Alis had been a dear and poured her coffee in a thermos, but Feyre hated the feeling of being rushed.  Especially after a poor night's sleep.  And when it was five thirty in the morning.
Feyre slipped into a seat before she could finally tell herself to breathe.  She’d made it onto her train with only a few minutes to spare.  Thankfully there were other straggling passengers filtered into the train car and made their way to their various seats.
Feyre took a long sip of her coffee and tried to convince herself that she wasn’t really tired.  Even though it was far too early to be awake and she had an hour and a half train ride to sit through.  
Dawn had barely begun to rise over the horizon with not even the promise of pink and blue streaks through the sky.  She sighed and drew out her sketch pad.  
She was barely into starting the picture--of what she had no idea--when the train started moving and a form fell into the seat across from her.
Feyre blinked and glanced up.
There were plenty of other open seats lining the train.  Granted the place she’d found herself was the only one with a small table set up, but still.  
Sitting across from her was a man far too attractive for his own good.  He wore a black suit with a deep navy-blue button up beneath.  No tie, only the top few buttons of his shirt undone giving a peak at a series of tattoos on his chest.  His black hair was styled in a neat wave revealing a chiseled jaw and glorious eyes.
Feyre tore her gaze away before she could be accused of staring.  But honestly, who could blame her?
Over the course of the train ride, Feyre finished her coffee and scribbled out at least four pages worth of drawings.  Unfortunately, inspiration didn’t strike.  Not that it was surprising.  She’d not drawn anything new in months.  Oh, she’d tried.  She could sit for hours on this train, on her balcony, or out in the middle of the forest with a pencil in one hand and paper in the other--and nothing.  Nothing would come.
Alis always told her that she couldn’t force herself to draw.  She couldn’t force herself to be inspired if she didn’t make the conscious choice.  But Alis didn’t understand that sometimes, it was too damned hard.
The train ride passed without excitement.  Not even the man across from her did anything interesting.  Figured.  He was so attractive his life had to be mundane.  At least, that was what Feyre told herself while she was not covertly looking at him
She was glad to get off the train when it reached the city.  After making sure she had her things, she slipped out and onto the platform without trouble.
#
Chaos was not something she enjoyed.  
Especially not lately.  As long as everything was in its place of simplicity, life could continue on as normal.
Honestly, if Feyre could have chosen a simple life involving nothing more than eating donuts she would have chosen it.  Because living in a state of missed calls and impatient clients and looming deadlines was far from her state of happiness.
With a bag of donuts from Rita’s bakery in one hand, Feyre collapsed in her seat at the end of the day.  She’d managed to leave work five minutes early giving her enough time to swing into Rita’s and grab a few treats.  And she would not apologize for it.
“Long day?” 
Feyre glanced up to see the man from that morning taking a seat across from her.  He had an amused sort of expression on his face which made it even harder to look away.  Feyre snatched a frosted chocolate donut from her bag and glared at him.
“No.” She took a giant bite leaving sugar to lace around her mouth and narrowed her eyes at him.
He grinned and shook his head.
Feyre was able to finish her donut in peace and managed not to stare at the man the rest of the train ride home.
#
Life continued.  And much to Feyre’s dismay, nothing changed.
Her sketch book remained empty.  Her coffee remained dull.  Work did not improve.
Something needed to change.  But honestly, she couldn’t figure out what it was.  She’d left her ex months ago.  She’d gotten a new wardrobe, a new phone, moved in with her friend.  She’d started getting out more too.  Somewhat.  When Nesta called, which wasn’t often but at least her sister was trying.
It was five-thirty in the morning and she was seated on the train, again.  And the man who seemed to only own clothing that was black was seated across from her, again.  Since that first day of seeing him, he hadn’t tried talking to her again, which Feyre was semi grateful for.  She was certain she would just make herself look like a bigger idiot than before.
Had she really stuffed her face with that giant donut?
Not that she cared.  She could do whatever she wanted.
Except draw.
Feyre stared out the window of the train.  It was slowly starting to get lighter sooner and Feyre now had more scenery to watch instead of the reality of the empty sketchpad.
Inevitably, however, Feyre found her attention drawn to the man across from her.
There was something about him.  Feyre couldn’t place it, exactly, perhaps an energy of some kind.  Or it was his confidence.  Arrogance.  Something.  She found him mesmerizing.  How stupid was that?  A man she had said one word to and ignored for an entire month and she could help but watch him.
He did a cross word every morning.  Texting someone throughout--or else cheating and looking up the answers.  Other times she caught him reading a book about astrology or NASA’s recent magazine release.  She wanted to ask him about the astrology, it was such a fascinating topic, one that she liked learning about.  But she never knew how to strike up a conversation, so she remained silent.
She’d always been good at staying silent.  At least that was what she’d been told.
The thought came so suddenly that Feyre had to physically shake herself to make it disappear.  She sat up in her seat, hands clenching in her lap.
She snapped her attention away from the train window and forcibly removed her sketchpad from her bag.  In a fury, Feyre moved her pencil across the page.  It wasn’t the bed utensil to use, but it was better than bringing her entire art supply on the commute to work.  The pencil would suffice.
It wasn’t as though she liked being quiet.  It wasn’t as though she didn’t have anything to say.  Sometimes it was just easier.  Sometimes it was just better.  Sometimes the silence was how she communicated.  Sometimes people just didn’t understand that.
The scene came alive beneath her fingers.
Mountains and stars.  Storms and shadows.  All convalescing on a shape.  A person.  A…
Feyre frowned at the scene.  Someone was kneeling on a throne of night and she couldn’t see their face.
“Do you always glare at your art like that?”  The midnight voice broke Feyre out of her revere.  
Glance up, Feyre locked gazes with the violet eyes of the man across from her.  The crossword in his lap was complete.  Feyre realized for the first time that he was younger than she’d originally thought.  Maybe about five years older than she was.  And even though he oozed arrogance, there was almost a genuine sort of smile dancing across his lips.
“Only when it’s being difficult,” Feyre answered.  She offered a brief shrug and gestured to the crossword on his lap. “Do you always cheat at the crossword?”
He made an affronted sort of gasp. “I don’t cheat.”
“You’re always on your phone when you scribble answers in,” Feyre pointed out.  She smirked, unable to help it.
“I’m texting with a friend,” he said, “she’s always trying to finish the damned thing before me in the mornings.  All I do is offer a bit of...encouragement.”
“Right,” Feyre said doubtfully.  She shook her head, still smiling.
The man watched her, almost confused, before he leaned forward.  “And the art?  It’s the first time in over a month I’ve seen you actually draw something.”
“I was searching for the right inspiration,” she said.  And then as she found herself nearly drowning in the heat of his gaze--Feyre had what she’d been hunting for. “Sometimes it just takes a while to find.”
The train pulled to a stop where they usually got off.  Feyre collected her things and half expected the man to be right at her side when his phone went off.
He muttered something under his breath before answering it.
Feyre almost had half a mind to wait for him.  To linger on the platform and dredge up some excuse so that she could talk to him.  If only for a moment longer.  She still hadn’t asked him about the astrology book.
Instead she was swept up in the crowd of commuters.
#
For the next two weeks, Feyre was out of her mind with anxiety.
There really was no other way to describe it.  Because every morning and every evening when she would board the train there would be no sign of her mysterious companion.  Not even the sight of him running to try and catch a ride before the train completely left the station.  Not even a hint of him getting on a different compartment one day by accident.  Nothing.
So, naturally, her mind told her that it had something she’d done.  Something she’d said.  Hell.  She hadn’t even done anything that stupid.  Aside from stuffing a whole ass donut in her mouth.
She was an idiot.
Eventually she was able to push thoughts of her mysterious companion aside.  Not only was she drawing again, but her workload had increased.  And now she was getting up earlier and staying later and her schedule was entirely too chaotic.  
She really missed the simpler days of dashing into Rita’s or relaxing on the train bench not staring at the man across from her.
After two weeks of commuting alone and another two weeks of being run ragged at work, Feyre finally found herself being able to return to a normal timeline.  Somewhat.  At least she was going to be able catch her usual train home and get home before ten o’clock.
Feyre fell into her seat and leaned up against the window of the train.  She didn’t mean to fall asleep.  Not really.  But as soon as she was seated and relaxed her eyes drifted shut and she was gone.
The next thing Feyre knew there was a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Sorry to wake you, but this is your stop,” said an all too familiar voice.
Feyre’s eyes snapped open and she nearly flung out a fist to the shape in front of her.
“I take it you slept well?” Her mysterious companion snatched out a hand and caught hers before it made contact.  He gave her a cheeky grin. “You didn’t even twitch between all the other stops.”
Feyre blinked up at him.  Sleep still addled her brain and he was making no sense whatsoever.
“What?” she finally managed to spit out.
“Your stop?” he said, jutting a thumb to the train doors. 
Feyre cursed, loudly, and jumped up. “I barely even closed my eyes,” she grumbled.
“Here, let me,” her companion grabbed her bag for her and helped her off the train before it took them all the way south to Hybern.
“Thanks,” Feyre said as they stepped out onto the platform.  She accepted her bag from him and gave him a smile. “It’s been a long couple of weeks I guess.”
In the still fading evening light, Feyre was able to see his easy smile and the way his eyes crinkled softly.  His black hair was tousled easily as if he’d been running his hands through it recently.
“It’s not a problem,” he said, “in fact I was surprised to even see you.  It’d been a few weeks.”
Feyre blinked.  He’d noticed she wasn’t on at her usual time?
“You were gone for a while too,” she said without thinking.  You idiot.
Her words seemed to catch him by surprise, but not for long.  A gleam flashed in his eyes.
“You noticed, did you?”
“You noticed me,” she shot back quickly.
They stood in silence as the train moved on with a loud whistle and the last few men and women passed them by hurrying to catch their connecting busses or get to their cars.
His smile stretched into a full grin. “I’m Rhysand.”
“Feyre,” she said, returning the smile.   She then noticed the small paper bag he held in one hand.  Immediately, Feyre recognized the logo on the outside.  “Rita’s?  That’s my favorite place to stop at after work.”
“Yeah, uh,” Rhysand said as he ran a hand through his hair, “I noticed and decided to give it a try.”
“And?” Feyre pressed.
“I have you to blame for my new addiction,” he said.
Feyre laughed, shaking her head.  “I take full responsibility, though I will not apologize.”
Rhysand paused only for a moment before he glanced at her and an almost sheepish smile crossed his features. “Have you been to Dreamer’s? It’s a late-night coffee shop on Main.”
“I haven’t, but I’ve been meaning to,” Feyre admitted.
“My treat,” he said almost immediately.  “I mean, if you want.  You can tell me about what helped you find the inspiration to start drawing again.”
Feyre blinked at him remembering that train ride over a month ago now where she’d finally been able to draw more than a few measly lines.  And she realized now as she watched a halo of light glimmer from the setting sun around his head that all this time she’d been trying to draw him in the outline of mountains and stars.
“Deal,” Feyre said. “But you should know, I don’t give up my secrets lightly.”
Rhysand quirked a brow. “Noted.”
They spent hours sharing secrets.  The small kinds, the simple kinds.
Feyre learned that Rhysand’s brother had broken his leg playing football and needed surgery which was why he’d disappeared for a few weeks.  She learned that it was his mother who taught him about astrology before she died not that long ago.  And now he spent most of his time trying to avoid his father.  
She’d told him about her love of painting, of art, of creating.  Anything that made her feel alive.  She’d told him about walking out on her old life and how here she was six months later and still desperate for change.
They were both trying, it turned out, to become something different.
It wouldn’t be until later that night--after sunset when the inky black sky gave way to the millions of stars overhead--that Feyre found herself home.  Rhysand, of course, made sure she’d arrived safe and she’d rewarded him with a brush of her lips to his cheek and a small smile over her shoulder.
It wouldn’t be until later that night--amid the cool mid-spring air that promised a new dawn--that Feyre would pull out her sketch pad.  She would draw sharp lines and angular features and a man kneeling amid the night.  She would draw power and beauty in something, someone, she didn’t know perfectly.  But one day.  One day, maybe she would.
#
thanks for reading my dears!  i am always eager and open from prompts so thanks for sendin gthem!  I really do enjoy them!
tags:
let me know if I put you on the wrong tag list/want to be removed.  it’s generally going to be easier for me to just have basic acotar/tog lists and not go into too much worry about that, so just and fyi...anywho
tottenhamboys20  @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx  @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival @chieflemming @julemmaes @lysandra-ghost-leopard @harrymoncheri @firestarsandseneschals @rapunzel1523 @emikadreams
133 notes ¡ View notes
calumrose ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Chapter 7 || C.H
Tumblr media
A//N: I feel like I haven’t updated in so long when in reality it’s only been 3 days. I’ve got so many WIPs right now, and I am so excited to post more! So keep an eye out for those! But yes, here is chapter 7 for all you lovely people! Thank you to everyone who has been reading this so far, I really appreciate it! 
Word Count: 11.6k
Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.
Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6
12 Days Left
The constant honking of traffic, the incoherent chatter of bystanders, and the smell of excess petrol had become comforting to Eloise over the years. It was the natural scent of the city she resided in; the smell always so unbearably strong that it practically embedded itself in the noses of the visitors the city welcomed every day. And as much as Eloise wanted to escape and explore new places, she knew it would be a smell she would miss, even if only a little.
Central Park had only ever been a place she visited with friends, typically because the likes of Paige and Jackson lived in that side of New York, it being quite literally on their doorstep, unlike the rest of them who had to travel in order to visit the well-known location.
“Fancy a trip to the zoo?” Calum’s question caused her eyes to break from the sight of the busker to her left as they entered the park. She looked in the direction of where his eyes fell, looking towards the zoo entrance in all its glory along with the crowded queue that was almost painful to think about.
“Maybe another time,” She chuckled, not really in the mood to stand in a queue for god knows how long and pay a ridiculous price just to look at animals for a few hours, “Why don’t we just find a place to sit and have a conversation like normal people?”
“Normal people?” Calum’s tone held fake surprise, “You mean to tell me that you, Eloise, want to have an actual conversation with me?”
“Shocking stuff I know, now c’mon,” She responded with the same joking attitude, nudging the back of his arm as they continued to walk through the park. It was a sight that never failed to relax her, the greenery and gentle atmosphere being enough to temporarily transport her to a state of believing she had no worries, like she had nothing to be afraid of.
The past week with Calum had been nothing like she had experienced before. It felt good to know she had a safe space other than her own apartment although she had begun to feel unsafe in her own home, fearing that an unwelcome individual would burst through her door at any given moment after discovering her little secret. But in Calum’s home, she felt like she could live, breathe, and embrace every moment that she felt her heartbeat in her chest.
Seven days felt like seven months when they would lay together in his bed, fingers interlaced as she would trace his tattoos that were painted on his brown skin. She’d ask a million questions about them, wanting to know every story behind each individual piece of art that littered his body. She had learnt the story of how the initials on each hand were for his parents, the name on his left forearm was his sister, how the thistle on his bicep was a homage to his Scottish heritage, and how the Roman numerals on his collarbone represented a year that his life changed. There were so many stories he had shared that she felt as though she wouldn’t remember them, but she found herself being able to recall every single one each time her eyes caught sight of the ink.
Late night conversations were full of questions about their pasts, asking about their childhoods and about stupid things they could recall from simpler times. Calum was a lot more open about his own memories than Eloise was, many of her own recollections being forgotten with purpose. She didn’t know if she was ready to dig them all back up just yet, and Calum respected that.
Early morning rises would be filled with the smell of coffee and fruity essences from the yoghurt Calum had added to his shopping list after learning of Eloise’s love for the strawberry flavour. He learnt of her tendencies of waking up in the unsociable hours of the morning, her body clock naturally seeming to have shifted since she started staying at his place on a more regular occasion. Before, she was lucky if she could sleep past 10am, now it was 7am. Calum often woke up and found her in the kitchen, legs crossed as she sat up on the countertop by the window, staring out into the city as the sun rose up, a bowl of yoghurt and chopped fruit in her lap as she enjoyed the peaceful silence of the morning. He never disturbed her when she was in that state, his body just standing in opening of the hallway, dark eyes on her that were filled with nothing but admiration.
He had come to learn that she was very appreciative of the small moments that she got to experience, figuring that a lot of that was due to the great deal of loss she had suffered over the years; wanting to absorb everything she felt as though she took for granted, like the sunrise; a beautiful sight that only a lucky few got a chance to see in all its glory.
An open patch of grass caught Eloise’s attention, her fingers gripping onto the fabric of the sleeve of his empathy hoodie, subtly dragging him along so she could claim the empty space before any other civilian who was found at the park.
“El, babe, slow down,” The nickname fell from Calum’s lips like butter, as if it were always supposed to. He had dropped pet names like those a few times throughout their time together, and she wondered if he truly noticed how often he let them slip. They were natural to him, feeling as though there was no other name that he knew for her other than what he felt suited her so perfectly. Eloise could swear her stomach flipped every time a simple nickname fell from his soft lips, assuring her that she wanted nothing else than to hear them a thousand times over.
“You’re the one who dragged me outside, so we’ll do things at my pace, that’s the deal,” She smirked to herself as she adjusted her jeans slightly before sitting down at the dry grass.
“Since when did I agree to that?” He raised a questioning brow, the slight upturn of his lip’s inkling on a borderline smirk. That smirk would get him in trouble one day, Eloise could sense it.
The sun beat down on the city of New York, speckles of gold seeping through the gaps in the tree branches as it painted the park with strips of yellow. It created a sight that Eloise could only wish she could see every day; the sight of Calum sat there with the sun beating down, the bright rays only bringing out how golden he truly was, as if gold met gold in the moment the sun connected with him.
Brown eyes cascaded over the park around them, Eloise’s gaze settling on a young girl who sat a few metres from them. She watched as the young blonde’s hand worked against the sketchpad in her lap, eyes flickering up to glance at the grand building that towered over the park. Eloise felt her back straighten almost inquisitively, her head tilting slightly to side as if to try and get a better view of the pad.
“What’s she drawing?” Calum asked, leaning back against his hands to keep himself up, eyes watching Eloise’s curiosity get the better of her. He had noted that she was a curious person, always watching what people were doing, always noticing people who were so submerged in their own world, especially those of the artistic mind. She seemed to have an eye for it.
Eloise watched as the pencil in her hand glided along the paper, imagining she could hear the soft strokes of graphite against the white paper as if she were sitting right next to her. She had a lot of respect for art, it always blowing her mind how someone could create something so beautiful with their own hands. She let her brown eyes look back to Calum, noticing how his eyes were sat on her own, admiring the interest she had shown in the stranger’s talent, before she responded with a smile, “I think she’s drawing the top of The Plaza, because if you look just over there,” She pointed in the direction of where the girl had been looking, “You can see the top of the hotel over the trees.”
“You seem to notice a lot of artistic people in the city for someone who doesn’t hold an artistic bone in her body,” Calum chuckled, remembering how they had discussed previously Eloise’s admiration for art but never having the ability to create any herself. He pulled his arm close to his chest in attempt to avoid her hand as it tried to smack him, his nose scrunching just a little as the smile on his face grew. “Did you ever have any hobbies when you were a teenager? Or anything that stuck and grew into a passion?”
Eloise shook her head, wrapping an arm around her right knee as it bent so she could keep it close to her chest as she responded, “I was that kid who always tried to find a hobby but gave up within a few minutes because it wasn’t as straight forward as I wanted it to be, and I also had zero patience.” Her free hand reached up to pull down the sunglasses that were resting on her head, setting them against the bridge of her nose so they shielded her eyes from the sun as the bright glare shifted direction in the sky.
“Ah, so you were one of those kids,” Calum spoke as if it all suddenly made sense, resulting in another playful smack against his arm from Eloise. She had definitely met her match when it came to teasing people, “And yet there’s still so much for me to learn,”
“About?” Eloise quirked a brow, reaching around her back to pull down the back of her shirt, the cool breeze against her spine signalling that the shirt had begun to ride up.
“You,” Calum sat upright, reaching down between his legs as he plucked a few blades of grass from the ground, eyes watching his hands before he reconnected them with Eloise’s own dark ones, “I’ve got an idea; quick-fire quiz with random questions about you, you have one pass and you’ve got to answer everything, got it?”
“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret agreeing to this stupid game?” A playful roll of her eyes were given as she shifted her body weight, turning to her left so she could face him head on, “Right, go ahead then if you must.”
Calum parted his lips slightly as he looked up in thought. He hadn’t even considered making up any questions to ask, not quite expecting her to give in that easily. Who was he kidding? She gave into almost anything he asked, he knew that, so he should have been more prepared. The hamster wheel in his brain seemed to run for a few seconds before a thought came into his head. Thank god for that.
“First question, your favourite subject in school?” He raised an eyebrow, throwing a finger in her direction as he pointed at her, awaiting her answer.
Eloise pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. Come on El, this whole point of quick-fire questions is that it’s supposed to be quick. She tapped her fingers against her thigh for a few seconds before giving an unsure answer of, “I’d probably say English even though I was awful at it, Maths was more of my strong suit but I wouldn’t say I loved it,” She threw a shrug of her shoulders at Calum, “Next question.”
“Favourite colour?”
“Easy, it’s probably red.”
“I have never seen you wear the colour red,” Calum commented, his teeth brushing against his bottom lip as he highlighted the third word, “You barely wear anything other than black or grey, babe. So, for that reason I am calling bullshit.”
“And how would you know? What if I’m wearing red underwear?” Eloise couldn’t stop teasing smirk, a coy pout playing on her lips as she saw his eyebrows raise at her remark. She knew that he was fully aware of what colour her underwear was, as he was the one who had enjoyed the task of removing it from her hands before she had the chance to get dressed this morning, before pulling her into the bathroom for a morning of strenuous activities.
She swore she could see the events of their morning playing in his mind, watching as his jaw worked while her comment echoed in his ears. She loved watching how flustered he got in moments like that; moments where a certain tone, or a sudden string of words had him silenced.
“Favourite artist?” His voice sounded raspy; he hadn’t cleared his throat before he spoke. Eloise’s tongue poked the inside of her cheek, noting how he tried to brush over what she had said, fighting the urge to poke fun at the avoidance, knowing full well that what she had said had taken its effect on him.
“Oh that’s a tough choice,” She pursed her lips, a little smug due to knowing what he focusing on right then, she swore she could hear the little voice in his head as it shouted at him to think of something else, “It’s got to be either Mayday Parade or The Maine.”
“Good choice,” He nodded, coughing into his fist as a way of attempting to rid the scratch in his throat. Calum could barely hold himself together and Eloise knew what hold she had over him.
Both knees were pulled to Eloise’s chest, her arms resting on top before she placed her chin down to settle against her forearms, brown eyes looking up at the handsome man she found herself with. She always thought about what they were, if they had a specific title for what they had going on. Did she even want to put a label on what they had? Was there a point in labelling it? It was still something she was trying to figure out; how quickly she felt so normal with Calum, how suddenly everything just seemed like it fit into place as if it had always been that way.
Calum and Eloise had talked briefly about what they were. Calum never rushed her into deciding what she wanted, assuring that he would go with what she felt comfortable with and what she felt ready for. Calum knew he wanted no one else, only having eyes for the girl who had his heart in her hands. He felt vulnerable around her, as if she could shatter his heart within seconds. And unfortunately, there was truth in that concern, as was there with Eloise’s matching one in regard to him. They both held such a strong connection that could be turned and used against them in the press of a button.
The only thing Eloise was sure of was that Calum was everything she had been looking for without even knowing it. He was all she could have wanted in someone; gentle, caring, understanding, forgiving, and so much more that she couldn’t put into words. She had admitted that to him a few mornings ago when they were lying in his bed together, limbs tangled within the sheets, her fingers combing through his hair as they stared at one another. Calum voiced his understanding over her concern for how she felt, suggesting they just say that they’re exclusive with one another, keeping it private, but known to each other that there was no one else in the picture, only the two of them who had eyes for the other.
The little pet names seemed to fall into habit rather quickly after that conversation, the next morning being the first time Calum dropped one in the moment, yawning before he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek before climbing out of the entangled sheets to make his way into the bathroom to get himself ready for work. Eloise had let it slide at first, assuming it was just a slip of the tongue, but then they grew to be more regular, and she couldn’t deny that they didn’t not get her heart going.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Calum spoke up after a few minutes, “My ass is getting numb sitting here.” Eloise looked up to find him standing already, hand reached out for her to grab onto.
“We’ve been sitting for barely twenty minutes and you’re already complaining,” She scoffed, a gently chuckle being sounded as she reached up and grabbed onto his hand. She couldn’t hold back the soft grunt she let out as she let him pull her to her feet, focusing on the warmth of his hand that held onto hers. She noted how he didn’t let go, adjusting his fingers so they slipped in between her own, his hand practically enveloping hers in warmth as they moved back onto the path that led through Central Park.
Calum’s hand was so much larger than hers, she couldn’t help but notice the difference every time he held her hand, the size almost laughable. Eloise cursed at herself at the way butterflies erupted in her stomach at his touch, the smooth skin of his palm against hers being enough to make her feel like she was walking on sunshine. It was almost sickening how much she had grown to love the feeling of his skin on hers in more ways than one.
“What time’s your shift tomorrow?” Eloise spoke softly as they walked, eyes glancing down at their hands swinging gently between their bodies meanwhile their feet walked at different times, her long legs surprisingly unable to keep up with his timely long strides. For a taller girl, she could never walk quickly, not with Calum anyway.
“I start at eight tomorrow,” He responded, eyes catching the small family picnic that was going on just to their right, the corners of his mouth turning up at the thought of that possibility in his future. He had always been a family man, it only setting him up to be ready to eventually have one of his own with someone he loved, someone he could settle down and have a life with. “So, I was thinking, I’d give you a lift home tomorrow morning before I go to work if you need to grab some clean clothes and stuff, and then I could pick you up once I’m finished, take you back to my place and we could do something,”
Eloise’s eyes followed in the direction of where he had turned his head briefly, eyes falling on the young couple who sat with a child, he looked to be around four, as they laughed and smiled together. The open picnic basket was self-explanatory to Eloise, causing a cold shiver to run up her spine at the inkling of a memory she didn’t even know existed. She pulled her attention back up to Calum, hoping he didn’t notice her subtle shudder. “I was thinking I might stay at my place tonight for a change, my neighbours are gonna start being suspicious if they don’t hear me stumbling up my stairs at the crack of dawn soon,” She chuckled, squeezing his hand reassuringly, “It also means Duke can actually get some space in the bed for first time in a while, but I’ll come and see you tomorrow after your shift,”
“Duke’s gonna be upset that you’re leaving him in the house alone,” Calum pointed out, “I think he’s gotten quite fond of you sticking around during the day while I’m workin’, means he’s not on his own all day.” Eloise knew what he was doing; trying to subtly use Duke as a way of persuading – guilt tripping – her into staying at his place for another night. But Eloise knew she had to play this right, she had to go home at some point, she would have to submit herself to the clutches of the Gypsy Kings once again soon enough.
“And you can tell him that I’m very sorry but I have to,” She pouted her lips, leaning into Calum a little as they walked, “Or to make it up to him, I’ll make sure I bring a treat with me when I come back.”
“So, you’re going to bribe my dog?” He furrowed his brows down at her, glaring playfully at the brunette. Eloise puffed her cheeks briefly, eyes shifting out of Calum’s gaze as she focused on the floor for a second.
“Well, it’s the only way I can make sure that he’ll forgive me when I come back,”
“And what about me?” Calum tugged on her hand and pulled her to a stop, moving them out of the way on the path so they weren’t in anyone’s way. His eyebrows raised questioningly, a knowing smirk on his face as his spare hand found her waist, slipping beneath her jacket so he could feel the fabric of her oversized t-shirt beneath his fingers, voice barely above a gravelled whisper when he spoke, “How’re you gonna make sure that I forgive you for leaving me?”
“I’m sure a grown man like yourself can work out a few ways I can ask for your forgiveness,” She winked, giggling softly at the expression that sank onto Calum’s face, his head falling onto her shoulder as he let out a barely audible groan, although it was loud and clear in Eloise’s ears.
“I swear for the love of god,” Calum groaned out, grip tightening around Eloise’s waist as the hand that held hers awkwardly bent as he attempted to raise it. Eloise’s giggle echoed in his ears, the sound highlighting her awareness of how her words had affected him in public yet again. He was weak when it came to that girl, and it was as if she knew exactly how to play to his weakness, using it against him in a poorly timed place. “You’re cruel, and the fact that you’re not even coming back to my place tonight only proves my point,”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to amuse yourself without me,” She whispered, leaning her head so it rested against his on her shoulder, a soft smile creasing her lips as she stood like that for a minute. She wished she could pause time right there and take a picture from someone else’s point of view, to see them together. She tilted her head slightly, pressing a feather like kiss to the side of his head before she softly spoke, “Now c’mon, I’ll buy you a- Scott?”
Calum’s head shot up at her words, forehead creased as his brows furrowed, “You’ll buy me a Scott?”
Eloise didn’t even register his response, eyes looking over in the distance to where a scattering of people walked through the park. Her dark eyes spotted the familiar man in the distance, able to pick out his soft curls from anywhere as well as his particular walk.
“Wait here,” She told Calum, softly releasing his hand from hers and before she could even hear him respond she was running down the path towards the familiar body who had his back to her.
Calum stood there in place, watching as Eloise’s figure shrunk as she ran further into the distance, arms crossing against his chest as he moved along the path a little bit and found a tree to lean against. He pulled out his phone, trying to occupy himself as he waited for Eloise to come back, eyes shifting every few seconds between the screen in his hand to the pretty brunette as she attempted to catch up to her friend. He couldn’t help but feel protective, wanting to make sure she was alright at all times.
Eloise felt her chest get heavy as she ran down the path, a few eyes watching her as she ran past numerous runners; their eyes obviously judging her choice of attire for what they most likely assumed to be an afternoon run. Her eyes closed in on the familiar golden locks of her best friend, his leather jacket shining against the sun.
She reached her hand out as she caught up with him, panting lightly as she called out, “Oi Erikson, do I not even get a hello anymore?” Scott’s expression seemed almost dumbfounded when he turned around, his face relaxing when he registered her voice and saw the one and only Eloise stood behind him, hands resting on the caps of her knees as she caught her breath, bending slightly as she felt her heart hammer faintly against her chest before she could bring herself to stand upright, breath returning to normal after a few seconds passed.
“You’re seriously out of shape,” Scott scoffed, laughing at his best friend’s poor attempt at hiding her heavy breaths as she stood up. Eloise reached out and shoved his shoulder lightly, sending him a warning glare as she straightened up, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, and stood comfortably.
“Shut up, I’m in better shape than most of that lot,” She laughed, jutting her chin out in the direction of the park, directing her comment towards the others within the gang. Both of them knew which members she was silently talking about, a joint laugh escaping them both at the inside knowledge. “What’re you doing here anyway, last time I checked Central Park is a bit far out of Brooklyn, especially for the likes of you, Scott?”
Scott chuckled at her comment, almost nervously, as he raised his shoulders in a half-shrug, “Suppose I could say the same for you, you’re a bit far out of Brooklyn yourself,” Eloise couldn’t help but notice how his eyes were shifting, as if he were searching for someone or keeping an eye out. He seemed antsy, not an unusual occurrence when it came to Scott being this far out Brooklyn. “How’ve you been anyway? How’re things comin’ along with your cop friend?”
Eloise let out a quiet sigh, shifting her weight to her other foot as she answered, “I should be asking you how you are, you’ve hardly answered your phone and you seem to be ignoring my texts. Am I too lame to talk to now?” She scoffs jokingly at him, chewing the inside of her cheek as she continues, “I’m working on him, I’ve got some information that’ll be useful for Jay to know. I’ve also set up a few decoy details for him to take back to his precinct, so give me a few more days and we’ll be ready to go,”
Scott nods, taking in the words that Eloise had practically spoon fed him. She prayed he couldn’t see through it, praying that for a man she believed to know her so well, that he couldn’t see right through the lies she had just fed to him. She knew he would take her words back to Jay, informing him of the ‘work’ she had done. Scott’s eyes travelled behind Eloise, she had noticed he had done that a few times already, wondering what he was looking at.
“Take it, that’s him?” He jutted out his chin in the direction of the park behind her, eyes finding the dark ones of Calum who kept his gaze firmly planted on Eloise’s back, “Either that’s your copper or some big creepy dude has been staring at your ass for the past five minutes, and my money is the former.”
Eloise rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she glanced behind her, brown eyes finding Calum’s. She smiled softly at him, offering him a small wave as a silent act of reassurance that she was alright. She noted how his shoulders seemed to relax a little at her action, the muscles sinking as his eyes never left her, “Yeah, that’s Calum.”
“So, you gonna let me meet the guy who you’ve been spending all of your time with or are you going to keep me in suspense?” Scott raised an eyebrow, lips parting briefly as he glanced in Calum’s direction. Eloise thanked the sun for her helping her hide her flushed cheeks, making her cheeks and nose almost rosy at the thought of Calum and Scott meeting, the thought making her feel like someone had just dropped a lead weight in her stomach. Eloise couldn’t help but feel as though she was in a catch 22; stuck between her best friend who believed she was acting one way, and Calum who knew her to be acting in the opposite.
But that didn’t stop her from nodding, feeling Scott’s arm slip around her shoulders as they began to make their way to where Calum stood. “Be nice,” Eloise warned through gritted teeth as they closed in on the tree that Calum stood under. The air felt as though it thickened with the closer that they got, Eloise’s chest tightening as she tried to fight the feeling of anxiety that she could feel bubbling up inside of her.
Calum straightened up, sliding his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and walked over and met them halfway, a friendly smile on his face as he met Eloise’s uneasy eyes, noting how uncomfortable she must have been at the thought of Calum meeting her brother by association.
Eloise forced the discomfort in her stomach down, trying to ignore it as she stood with Scott by her side, arm still around her shoulders as he looked towards Calum, a rather unimpressed look on his face. She let out a small cough, clearing her throat, as she introduced them, “Scott, this is Calum, Calum, this is my best friend Scott,” She felt as though she wanted the world to swallow her whole as she felt Scott’s grip tighten ever so slightly around her, a natural tension he had around those he didn’t know and didn’t trust.
“It’s nice to meet you, mate,” Calum sent him a gentle singular nod of his head, a warm smile on his face as he reached out his hand for Scott to shake, “El’s told me a lot about you, you sound like a very important man.”
Eloise sent him a glance, silently thanking him for trying to play it cool, for being nice towards Scott even though the reaction he was receiving from the blond was anything but. Her eyes fell to Scott, sending a subtle kick to the back of his ankle as if to silently say, ‘Just shake his hand.’
Scott sighed as he reached out his hand, grasping Calum’s in his grip as they shook, a dry laugh coming from his throat as he tried not to roll his eyes. “That’s quite a strong grip you’ve got there,” Eloise couldn’t help it as she rolled her eyes at Scott’s remark, silently praying he would drop the act and just be like the Scott she knew, that he would act like her best friend.
“Comes with the territory.” The response was quick to come from Calum, it being instant much like the forced smile on his lips. Eloise knew he would be silently making his job known to Scott, even though he wasn’t trying to rupture Scott, she couldn’t help but want to move things along, trying to cut the interaction as short as possible to spare any unnecessary tension.
It’s not like there wasn’t plenty of it already.
“I was gonna suggest to Calum that we go and grab a hot dog if you wanted to join us?” Eloise offered, head nodding towards the exit of the park, the memory of the brightly coloured food cart outside the gates making her mouth water at the thought. “It’ll be my treat.”
Scott shook his head practically as soon as Eloise let the words slip from her mouth, hand coming up and shaking alongside his head, “I can’t stay long, I’ve got somewhere to be. I just wanted to come by and say hi,”
The awkward silence is almost painful. Cursing herself, Eloise wished she never agreed to letting Scott come over. She wished she had just said something along of the lines of how she’d rather keep them separate to save questions but of course she didn’t think this through. Nice one, Eloise.
She was about to open her mouth to speak, her brain scrambling as it attempted to create a sentence for her to use in order to break the silence before Calum beat her to it.
“So, how long have you known Eloise?” Calum asked, adjusting his stance as an attempt to be perceived as more friendly, trying to cut the clear tension that clouded them, hand resting over the outline of his phone in his pocket.
Eloise didn’t need to see the shift in Scott’s eyes as they fell to her, she could feel the burn in the side of her head along with the way his arm moved, it dropping from around her and returning back to his side, hand sliding back into its home inside his pocket. Eloise wanted to curse herself, knowing she should’ve warned Calum about one thing, but of course she didn’t think. She could only hope this helped her out, that Scott took it as a sign that things were working, that she was invested in the way she needed them to believe, that she was capturing Calum’s attention like they had intended. She just hoped that it wasn’t seen for what it really was.
She needed to slow down; she knew that she was getting too far ahead of herself. Scott was smart, but he wasn’t that smart.
“Too long,” Her voice muttered, a gentle smirk playing her lips as she glanced at Scott, playfully nudging him with her hip to try and go along with the friendly interaction.
“Uh yeah, we’ve been best mates since we were kids. The both of us went through some rough stuff growing up and we’ve stuck together ever since,” Scott nodded, throwing a casual shrug of shoulders into the mix with his response, “I just can’t seem to shake her off.”
“Fuck off,” Eloise laughed, raising a knowing brow, “You’d be lost with me or dead even. I have saved your life more times than you can count.”
It was true. There was more truth in that statement than what Scott wanted to admit. Eloise had helped him out a lot throughout their time together; throughout school, starting off in the gang, and just about every other occasion where things didn’t go to plan for the blond boy.
Eloise had been the one to help him talk his way out of situations he found himself in when he thought he was clever. She had also been the one to cover for him when he would get himself into messes and need a friend to pull him out. Eloise had always been there for him over the years and he couldn’t deny that.
Scott shot her a warning glance before letting a small laugh laced with nostalgia leave him, unable to hide the truth in the statement, “I was a bit of a klutz back in the day, and this one here helped me out a lot. I guess you could say I never quite understood what public embarrassment truly meant,”
“A klutz with a big mouth and shocking taste in women,” Eloise couldn’t stop the mutter before it was too late, eyes watching as Scott scoffed at her and he amusingly jabbed her with his elbow.
“On that note, I’m gonna take my leave,” Scott excused himself, taking a step back as he attempted to extract himself from the gathering rather quickly, “It was nice to meet you, Calum. Suppose I might see you ‘round if she keeps you for longer than usual,” A dry laugh escaped him as he made the remark, eyes catching Eloise’s glaring ones.
Eloise shook her head, the nod barely noticeable as she clenched her jaw and grit her teeth, a warning glare being shot at Scott, “I was gonna ask if you wanted to come by my place tonight and we could hang out, but just for that you can fuck off,” She sighed, raising her hand as she threw a middle finger in his direction.
Scott hummed, knowing she would still want him to come by her apartment. She never didn’t want him to come over when she had offered. “I’ve got plans tonight, some business I need to take care of for work. How about tomorrow night instead? I’ll call you when I’m on my way,”
Eloise sent Scott a nod, “Sure, see you tomorrow then,”
Eventually they bid Scott a goodbye, watching as his silhouette disappeared into the distance, vanishing out of the park as it merged into the crowds that were usually thought of when it came to New York. Eloise released a relieved sigh, the departure of her best friend making her feel as though she could breathe again, feeling the tension deplete with the great distance between them that grew as he was out of sight.
She turned in place, catching Calum’s eyes watching as she seemed to relax. God, she felt horrible for making him suffer through that. Scott wasn’t usually so… not Scott. She swore he was a nice guy but this just highlighted the arrogance that she tried to ignore every day, almost if she forced herself to be blinded to it, not wanting to believe he had it in him to act like that.
“I’m really sorry about him, he’s not usually like that,” Eloise apologised, figuring she owed Calum some form of an explanation as to why she shot off earlier without a second thought, “Scott’s been giving me the silent treatment for the past few days and I didn’t know why; he was avoiding my calls and ignoring my texts and it was bugging me because we used to never go a single day without talking to one another,” She was rambling now, “So when I saw him, I guessed it was a perfect opportunity to ask him about it and then he spotted you staring, asked if he could come and say hi, then he- “
“Eloise, it’s alright,” Calum cut her off with a laugh, stopping her in the middle of a ramble that not even she knew how long it would continue for, his hands placing themselves on her shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly, “He’s your friend, you’re allowed to go and speak to him,”
“Something’s not right with him though,” She sighed, feeling rather defeated, “He’s not himself and I can’t tell what it is. It’s almost like he’s changing, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“You can’t do anything,” Calum told her, slipping a comforting arm around her shoulder as they turned and began to make their way through the park, heading towards the exit, walking the opposite direction to where Scott had departed, “It’s probably whatever Jay’s planning just getting to his head. It’s a big scheme and a lot is on the line for them,”
“Thanks for reminding me,” She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily as they walked.
The colours of the food cart soon came into sight, Eloise’s stomach practically growling at the thought of some food. The two of them made their way over to the queue, standing in line and began to wait.
“Scott’ll be meeting with some the guys tonight,” She spoke out, “That’s what he meant by ‘work’, so he’ll be filling them in on our little run-in today,”
“And that’s a good thing, right?” Calum sent a questioning look.
“I think so, it’ll make them think that their plan is working,” She nodded, silently trying to convince herself of her uncertain response, “The fact that you called me Eloise will go a long way in convincing them, it’ll make them see that I’ve ‘wormed’ my way in,” She raised her fingers to use as quotation marks at the word wormed.
The confusion is Calum’s face couldn’t be missed, the crease in his forehead and furrow of his brows only solidifying the questioning look he continued to give her, “How is me calling you by your name helping?”
Eloise sighed, knowing she would need to explain. She cleared her throat as she looked ahead of the line, making a note of the few people in front of them that were still waiting to be served.
“Back when I lost my dad, it was quite hard to hear my name. People had been calling me ‘El’ for a while since I was a kid, but my parents almost always called me Eloise, and when I didn’t have them around anymore, my name just reminded me of them and how much I was hurting,” She explained, sighing as she threw a hand in her pocket, feeling Calum’s arm drop from her shoulder as it found her free one, his fingers lightly grasping hers as an attempt to comfort her, “So I started telling people to just call me ‘El’ so it felt like I wasn’t me, so I could pretend like it didn’t happen,”
Calum just nodded, brushing her knuckles with his thumb as he listened. Every time she mentioned her parents, he couldn’t stop his heart from hurting, almost as if he was feeling her own pain when she spoke of them.
“But certain people still call me by my full name, but it became sort of public knowledge with those I associated myself with that only certain people got to call me Eloise; like Scott, Han, my friends: Paige, Roman, and the rest of that group. And now you,” She smiled up at him, squeezing his hand as they took a step forward in the queue, “So, since Scott heard you use my full name, it’s gonna intentionally take this whole thing a lot further, almost securing their perception of what it is that they think I’m doing,”
The mention of Paige and Roman reminded Eloise that she still needed to introduce Calum to them, thinking of the endless stream of text messages she had received from Paige with requests of organising a double date ever since she found out about Eloise and Calum’s mutual agreement of being ‘secretly exclusive’.
She had tried to fight with the idea of Calum meeting her friends, trying to convince herself that it was a bad idea as it just made what they had feel even more real; like it was going last and they were going to be going places after the deal was done. Eloise wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to ignore the harsh reality and let herself fall into the self-made trap of pretending that she lived in a world where she and Calum would walk away from this with no repercussions, where they would be able to live as a normal couple.
Calum was about to speak, a voice laced with a thick accent stopping him as it called out, “Next! ‘iya sweetheart, what can I get ya?”
Eloise’s eyes turned to meet the rather large man in front of them, face a little red and shining an almighty mole in the right side of his chin. He smelled like hot dogs; Eloise noted. Although she wasn’t sure if it were him or the fact that they were at a hot dog stand, but she could be sure that the smell was rather overpowering.
They gave him their orders, standing next to one another as they waited for him to prepare the carb loaded items. Calum’s hand never dropped hers, his fingers finding the spaces between hers before slipping into them, her hand fitting in his like a glove. He felt the need to always be touching her, feeling an uneasy sensation settle in his gut if he was around her and didn’t have his skin touching hers in some way. It wasn’t like Eloise minded; she embraced any physical connection she could get with Calum when she could, silently reminding herself that it most likely wasn’t going to last forever.
Hotdogs in hand, they made their way down the streets of New York, the steam from the slabs of meat in their breaded buns travelling up into the air as they walked together.
“So, you don’t mind that I call you Eloise?” Calum’s question could only just be heard over the sound of a yellow taxi honking it’s horn next to where they waited to cross the street, “I can call you El if that- “
Eloise slapped his shoulder gently, holding her finger up as she silently asked him to wait while she chewed the bite of her hotdog she had just taken. Once swallowed, she smiled at him, wiping the slaver of grease she swore she felt just below her lip with edge of her palm, before she said, “I actually prefer it when you call me Eloise, it sounds better coming from you unlike some people.”
“Good,” Calum speaks through a mouthful of hotdog, hand coming up to cover the sight of half-chewed food, “I like saying your name; it’s pretty, much like the girl it belongs to.”
Eloise couldn’t stop herself from faking a gag, laughing at Calum as she rolled her eyes, amused, “Do you have an off switch, or do you just permanently ruin moments with cheesy lines?”
Calum playfully nudged her as they turned a corner, careful not to knock her into anyone as he leaned over and pressed a quick chaste kiss to her cheek once he had freed his mouth of the remnants of his snack, “Only speaking the truth, doll,”
“Security!” Eloise jokingly calls out, “Can someone please come and remove Mr Smooth from my presence?” She’s unable to stop her laugh as Calum’s hand reaches out, attempting to nip at her sides, “Get off!” She squealed, trying to push his hand away, quickly apologising to the bystander who she accidently bumped into in her attempt to move out Calum’s reach.
Let’s just say that Calum got a friendly smack on the back of the head for that one.
They eventually discovered a bin to discard of their wrappers, tossing them away before they continued their walk back to where Calum had parked his car just a few blocks south of Central Park. The sun continued to shine down on New York, a gentle cooling breeze warranting through the city, adding a refreshing chill to contrast against the heat. They walked down the streets side by side, Calum’s arm draped over her shoulders, meanwhile Eloise’s wound its way around his waist, hips lightly brushing against one another, her small fingers gently gripping onto the fabric of his hoodie as an attempt to keep close to him, head resting on his shoulder as they walked through the city.
“You want me to drop you off at your place?” Calum asked, arm around her shoulders, fingers lightly brushing against the cool material of her jacket, “Or can I convince you to stay at my place for another night?”
Eloise shook her head, her stomach vibrating with her silent closed-mouthed laugh, “I need to go back to my place like I told you. I need time to think about what I’m gonna say to Scott tomorrow,”
“What do you mean?”
“I need to talk to him about some stuff; nothing about the plan or the shipment, nothing to do with the gang whatsoever,” She sighed as they stopped in front of Calum’s car, her arm dropping from around his waist as her back rested against the hood of the black vehicle, Calum’s arm being removed her shoulder as he moved to stand in front of her, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and taking her hand in his for what felt like the hundredth time that day, “I want to talk to him as friends, as the best friends that we’re supposed to be. I’m worried about him because he used to talk to me about everything and I did the same with him when my life fell apart, but now it feels like we’re more strangers than best friends,”
Calum sent her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently as he reached into his pocket to find his car keys, sending her an assured, “I’m sure he’ll be okay, Eloise.”
“He’s going to hate me when this is over.” Eloise couldn’t stop the tears brimming in her eyes, her throat quivering at the thought of how this was going to affect Scott; the guilt of it seeming as though it would eat her alive.
Calum shook his head, more to himself than to her, raising his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, his thumbs gently gliding across the apples of her sweet skin as he said, “Let him. Eloise, if he’s really your best friend then he’ll realise why you’ve done this and he’ll forgive you,”
“And what if he never does?” She asked painfully, her voice sounding almost as defeated as she felt.
“Then he clearly isn’t the kind of man you want to believe he is,” Calum spoke truthfully, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, holding his lips there for a few seconds before he took a small step back, opening the car for them to get in, “C’mon, we’ll get ice cream on our way back to your place, my treat,”
“Thank you, Calum,” She smiled, wiping away the packed tears before they had a chance to fall, taking in a deep shaky breath as she attempted to pull herself together, “For everything,”
“Anything for you, Eloise,” He whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder she would float away with the light breeze, gently reaching down and reconnecting their hands, lifting hers to his lips as he placed a soft kiss to her knuckles, “Absolutely anything.”
*****
11 Days Left
Eloise felt as though she was suffocating, the air around her thick with tension as she watched Scott from the corner of her eye. He had arrived just less than an hour ago, walking in with a pizza in his hand, claiming to be splashing the cash as an early celebration for her hard work.
Every time she looked at Scott, she was reminded of the lies she was living, the lies she was trapping him with, and the guilt was eating her alive, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. As much as her natural instinct would be to warn him of an upcoming ambush, she knew this time it had gone too far, and she couldn’t save him like she so desperately wanted to.
“I had a dream last night,” Eloise spoke quietly, almost sounding as if she was talking to herself, head leaning back as her eyes met with the ceiling briefly, “We were kids again, we must have been six or seven, and we were sitting in a field, just the two of us,” The corners of her mouth upturned, her teeth gently nipping on the inside of her lip, her voice continuing, “I was freaking out, panicking about what we were doing and you kept telling me to calm down, assuring me that we would be alright, you said that you’d make sure they would take care of us,”
Scott’s eyes caught Eloise’s as she looked in his direction, her back resting against the armrest of the couch, “Who were ‘they’?” Scott queried; eyebrows furrowed in question.
“I’ve got no idea,” She said with a breathy chuckle, shaking her head lightly as she reached forward to close over the empty pizza box that lay spread out on the coffee table, the cold stench of tomato and cheese making Eloise feel slightly queasy, before she added, “A monster? Or maybe someone we knew?”
“There’s plenty of monsters around this city,” Scott’s voice almost went unheard, the comment barely audible over the low volume of the TV. But fortunately for Eloise, she heard it loud and clear.
Scott’s words held a lot of truth in them; more truth than most would like to admit, the truth that fell deaf at many people’s ears. They had always been told as kids that monsters weren’t real, that they were figments of their own imaginations, a simple phase they would grow out of. But Eloise never grew out of it, her eyes finding them everywhere she turned. And now, to her own terror, she waited for her best friend to take that final form.
“Can I ask you something?” Eloise rolled her lips into her mouth, taking Scott’s hum as a response, taking a small breath before she continued, hoping he wouldn’t mind her bringing up past events, “Have you spoken to Seth recently? It’s just that you’ve been quiet the past few days, and I know what yesterday was, and I also know he usually crawls out of his hole around this time of year, so I just wanted to- “
“He’s not reached out to me if that’s what you’re wondering,” Scott pursed his lips, shaking his head slowly as he stared straight ahead at the scene playing on the TV screen. It wasn’t until earlier that day that Eloise had pieced together why Scott had been so distant lately, cursing herself for nearly forgetting what had happened all those years ago.
How could she nearly forget? She had a reminder of what happened on that day nearly four years ago permanently etched on her leg; the scar on her thigh never having properly healed, the textured skin serving as a reminder to not only her, but to Scott about what happened that day. And it was all down to a stupid idea made by him and someone he thought to be his friend.
They were 17; young, juvenile, and eager.
They all wanted to be recognised as key members of the Gypsy Kings; fed up and tired of being treated like the kids they didn’t believe themselves to be. They wanted to establish to the older men of the gang that they were ready to take their places in their society.
Eloise, Scott, Ben, Seth, and Gabriel had all piled themselves in Seth’s car one night, driving into the southside of Brooklyn, heading for Wiley’s mattress factory after hearing rumours of illegal liquor being stored in the basement. Scott and Seth had been talking to snitches across the city, pretending to be working for the higher members of the gang to retrieve information on any activity they could attempt to ransack. And boy, when they heard about the Moonshine, it was like they had just woken up on Christmas Day.
They had planned to sneak into the factory, having worked out their entry route as well as their exact strategy: fill a few bags with some bottles of the Moonshine, sell it off to clients that Ben had sniffed out with Eloise’s help, and prove themselves to those who doubted them.
But they had one flaw in their plan; they didn’t take into consideration that there would be any security. Their inexperienced minds had assumed that the factory would be empty, as if they could walk straight in and straight out with bags full of the strong liquor without any struggle. As genius as they thought their plan was, it was only proven to be the complete opposite from the minute they got inside that factory.
Their venture into the factory had gone smoothly, remaining undetected as they snuck into the basement, discovering the underground distillery along with the crates packed with bottles and jars of the spirit. They thought had hit the jackpot, obnoxiously throwing high-fives around as they crammed as much Moonshine into their bags as they could fit and still be able to carry.
Seth was smugger than any of them, claiming that he knew they’d win big with his idea to break into the factory, although they all knew it was him and Scott combined who discovered the rumours of the illegal distillery. Seth was the reason why it all went wrong, getting too ahead of himself and getting too excited, his voice was too loud in the quiet building, and no matter how many times they all told him to be quiet, he didn’t listen.
They had managed to sneak back up into the main foyer of the factory, spotting the door they had entered through, the heavy panel still open ajar so the glint of orange from the streetlamp outside could be seen in the distance. Ben had sent everyone out in front of him, his natural polite nature being what got him killed.
No – them being there is what got Ben killed.
They were nearly out of the factory, Scott’s hands just centimetres from the door before a shout broke their attention, eyes darting across the room to see a tall, thin, wrinkly man pacing towards them, gun in hand with their young bodies as targets. Ben had pushed Eloise forward, telling them to run, but it was too late for him.
Scott thrust the door open and practically threw himself out of it, feet moving out of the doorway as Seth followed hot on his tail, but Eloise had remained frozen in place as she watched Ben’s body fall to the ground as the sound of a gunshot echoed within the factory. Her eyes burned into the hole that branded itself into his back, the dark crimson colour painting his back almost unnoticeable due to the lack of light in the room.
Eloise could still make out Wiley’s eyes in the darkness, she swore she could see red in his irises as nothing, but rage and pure animalistic tendencies coursed through them. Scott had shouted for Eloise to run but she couldn’t hear him, the murderous gunshot echoing in her ears as her eyes became scarred with the sight of the body of the young boy who she had grown fond of.
She hadn’t realised she was moving until Scott grabbed her hand, almost ripping her arm out of the socket as he hauled her out of the building, a second gunshot being heard before a piercing yell from Eloise as her hand reached down for her leg as she tried to run. The pain of the piercing bullet in her thigh was nothing like she had ever felt before, it momentarily distracting her from the death she had just witnessed.
Scott had ended up carrying her back to Seth’s car, her mind not even registering Gabriel who had taken Scott’s place in the front seat as Seth started the car and raced back to their hideout, breaking every red light and stop sign that he came across in the early hours of the morning.
“What about Ben?” Her voice was quiet, throat dry as she blinked rapidly, trying to keep her eyes open although the urge to sleep was becoming too strong.
Scott had removed his belt from his jeans, tying it around her leg as an attempt to the try and stop the bleeding, using his hoodie as a gauze to keep pressure on the world, panicked and with a shake of his head, he said, “It’s too late, El. He’s gone,”
The last thing she remembered before she passed out was the heartache in Scott’s voice; at his words in regard to Ben but also to Eloise as he tried to call out to her, telling her to keep her eyes open and stay awake for him.
She woke up a while later, unsure of how long she had been out for, the tapestry pinned the ceiling above her head capturing her attention when she first opened her eyes, silently telling her who’s home she was in. Of course, she had been brought there.
“She’s awake,” A voice called out; older, yet familiar.
Brown eyes looked to her right, to which she found Han stood by her side, his eyes looking towards the doorway of the bedroom she was laying in. Faint footsteps got louder before two familiar bodies were stood in the doorway; faces etched with guilt and grief as they prepared themselves for the verbal abuse they would receive because of their actions, as if they hadn’t suffered enough.
“I agreed I wouldn’t ask what happened until she was awake,” Han’s voice spoke, arms crossing against his chest as he stood firmly, shoulders tense as he frowned at the two boys, “So, now you better start talkin’,”
Eloise’s eyes met with Scott’s golden ones, a gentle smile spreading across her face at the sight of her best friend, unable to ignore the way her heart hurt at the emotional turmoil he appeared to be in. She remembered almost instantly what had happened, the memories of the factory unfolding in her mind like a movie scene; the sight of Ben’s body collapsing and the gunshot prominent in her vision. She noted of Gabriel seemed to share a similar expression, except he looked to be more uncomfortable rather than upset. It’s not like it was his idea to go and hit that factory, Seth had pressured him into it. Speaking of Seth, where was he?
Gabriel looked as if he was about to speak, about to tell Han what had happened before Scott cut in, “It was all my idea; I thought it would be really cool if we were to try and prove ourselves to you guys by cashing in. I wanted to prove that we weren’t just kids and that we were ready for the big stuff like you guys were at our age,” Scott looked to be embarrassed, almost irritated actually as he claimed the blame for why they were in their current position, “So, we snuck into Wiley’s, tried to steal a couple of bottles of the Moonshine I heard he had been cooking up in his basement. I figured we could sell it on and bring the profits to the hideout… But all I managed to do was get two of my friends shot,”
Han’s sigh was nothing but full of disappointment, his exhale was heavy as he rubbed a hand over his face and looked at Scott, who’s eyes were planted firmly on his feet, unable to keep eye contact with anyone within the room.
It wasn’t the first time Han had been woken up at four in the morning, being asked if he can help someone who was injured. He just never expected for the victim of his next bullet extraction to be the girl who he had promised her dad he would look out for if anything were to happen.
Han’s throat worked, slowly swallowing a frustrated lump as he shook his head, pointing to Scott with an accusing finger, “Just be thankful it was only one life you lost last night. The bullet was only in her leg, and thankfully for your own sake, it didn’t hit anything critical, so she’s gonna be fine as long as it doesn’t get infected,” Han practically cursed himself at the thought of this being any worse than what it was, unsure of what he would do if it had been a wound to her chest or worse, “It’s just gonna take her a few days to be up and walking again, it’s gonna be a bitch of a recovery to get through,”
“I’ll stay with her until she’s ready to move,” Scott stepped forward, nodding his head at Han.
“She’ll be staying here until then, I’ll be keeping an eye on her and making sure it stays clean,” Han packed away the bloody rags that were on the floor, tossing them into his slow burner that sat in the corner of his living room, his eyes watching the sight of the rags beginning to catch the flames as they burned vigorously.
“That’s fine, but like I said, I’m staying with her. It’s my fault this happened, so it’s my responsibility.”
“You never left my side the entire time I was stuck at Han’s place,” She scoffed with a smile at the memory, “It doesn’t surprise me that Han stopped calling in sick for us with the school,”
And it was true, Scott never once went home the entire time that Eloise’s leg was healing. He practically lived at Han’s with her during that time. He felt guilty for what had happened, and he nominated himself to take full responsibility for the factory incident since Seth ran off the minute that he dropped them outside Han’s front door, driving off down the road to never been seen again.
They still didn’t know where he had gone or if he was even alive. Seth had chosen to run away from the gang after Ben died, walking away from any sole responsibility for the death of a teenager and the injury that left Eloise physically scarred. Scott had taken the blame for what happened because at the time he still felt like Seth was his friend, and he didn’t realise that when Seth drove away that night it would be the last time they saw or spoke to each other.
Eventually the truth had come out about how the plan to raid Wiley’s was a joint effort, but it didn’t make things any easier for Scott to cope with.
They never got a chance to bury Ben’s body, nor did his own parents have a chance to say their goodbyes. They received the news of their son’s death via the Gypsy Kings, something that Scott will never be able to erase; never forgetting the sight of his mother breaking down as she heard the news that her son wouldn’t be coming home.
Scott had decided from that day on to pay homage to Ben, wanting to show that he was being remembered by those who cared about him. So, every year on the day of Ben’s death, Scott would travel to Manhattan, to Ben’s parents’ house where he would lay a single red rose on their doorstep and walk away, paying a silent tribute to the boy who had a secret love for flowers and everything nature related; a small secret that only those close to him knew.
It was the death of Ben that sparked Scott’s ignorance when it came to people’s feelings, why he never let himself get attached to anyone new. After he experienced the pain of when Ben left him, only being accompanied by the abandonment his parents left him with – though they thought they were protecting him – once his mother got caught up in her own scandals, Scott decided to distance himself from people, allowing himself to use them for his piece of fun and nothing more.
Throughout everything, Scott and Eloise only ever had each other for long enough. They both had no real family to take care of them; both having left them although in different circumstances. It was from day Eloise had started walking again, leg slowly healing, that they decided they were in it together for the long haul. They had sworn to be brother and sister to each other until they died, always being there for one another when needed.
The memories of how they were before hurt Eloise to think about; looking back and seeing how quickly he was willing to sell himself out to protect someone who he thought was a friend, and how determined he was to sleep by her side while her leg healed, never hesitating or complaining when she woke up in the middle of the night and needed help getting to the bathroom or if she needed something as small as a drink of water.
But when she looked at Scott as she sat opposite him, his floppy curls pointed in all directions, face solemn as he stared out of the window, dark bags beneath his eyes, she couldn’t help but feel as though that something had changed. As much as she did genuinely enjoy his company; she could see their connection had a crack in it. Typical nights in where they would be clutching their stomachs in laughter or racing through the apartment as they play-fought like they were kids again were nothing but a distant memory being replaced with the latest reality of less smiles between them and added tension as Scott’s focus seemed to be elsewhere, as if he had better things to do other than spend time with the girl who had he practically grown up with.
The promise they made to each other is one she’d never be able to forget, no matter how hard she tried. It was a stupid pinkie promise they made on that day that had unintentionally become the glue between them and sadly she felt as though it was drying out and they were breaking off. It pained her to know what was silently happening between them, knowing it would only become clearer when she broke that promise, betraying one of the most important men in her life – or at least that’s what he used to be. It was painful, immensely, but she knew she had to follow through with it. It was for the sake of the city they called home, as well as his own good, and like Calum said, if he were truly her best friend then he would come to forgive her, surely not?
It was a risk she had to take. She had to break everything she had grown to know, unable to stand aside and watch as those around her destroyed themselves as well as innocent people.
“Brother and sister until we die. Bullets, friends, and relationships will never separate us. We’ll always have each other, we’ll always fight for each other, we’ll always love each other no matter what.”
---
Tag List: @steviemae​ @elsysoza​ @treatallwithkindness @oopsiedoopsie23​
33 notes ¡ View notes
365daysofsasuhina ¡ 5 years ago
Text
[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Ninety-Three: Painting ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, HyĹŤga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]
Every time he goes to that little cafe, Sasuke can’t help but look around for the mysterious painter.
Well...she’s not quite so mysterious now. After all, he knows her name, and had gotten to talk to her a bit when he and Itachi stumbled across her at the art show. It was nice to finally see what she’d been so fervently scribbling when they both were in the cafe at the same time. Even if it was also rather embarrassing to see himself as a subject of a painting...and even worse, Itachi actually bought it.
Upon his return home, he even texted Sasuke a picture of it hanging on his wall. To which Sasuke replied with several threats insisting he take it down before someone sees it.
...he hasn’t gotten a reply.
And of course, Itachi had ever so subtly gotten the younger pair to exchange numbers. But Sasuke hasn’t texted Hinata yet. Mostly because...he has no idea what he’d say. It’s not like they’re friends or anything. She’s a street artist who painted him once. They only talked for a few minutes at the art show she was in. What’s he supposed to offer to her based on so little?
She hasn’t texted him yet, either. Maybe she really didn’t want his number...after all, she’d clearly been caught off guard at being found by her unknowing subject. Add in Itachi’s insistence on buying it, and...maybe she was offended, or mad...but felt like she couldn’t say no.
...he hopes she wasn’t angry. Maybe just...surprised. Apparently Itachi had given her more than she asked for, after all…
...maybe she’s embarrassed.
But, whatever she is, Sasuke has no idea. All he knows is that their conversation under contacts is still empty, and neither of them seems to have any idea (or want) to break the silence.
All this he contemplates as he spaces out in line, waiting to get his favorite cup of black coffee. For once, he didn’t bring his laptop - no work to bring with him to work on and procrastinate by browsing online.
...maybe he’d been secretly hoping to run into her. Not that he has any idea what he’d say if he did. Theirs has just been such a funny little story, he was a little sad when it supposedly ended. Maybe she’s done coming to the cafe, moving on to a new venue and new subjects.
...why does that make him feel bummed out?
Getting his order, he retreats to his typical corner, sipping his coffee and staring boredly out the window. Well...she’s not here. Maybe he’ll go run some errands, or even see if Naruto’s up to anything. He’s not had a decent dose of socializing in a while, and his introversion needs a break every so often so he doesn’t forget what it is to be human.
Browsing social media idly on his phone, he glances up every time the bell over the door tolls. But each look sees him disappointed as it isn’t her. After half an hour of nothing, he sighs and gives up, pocketing his mobile and deciding to just...go for a walk.
Nothing better to do.
It’s still early Fall, the breeze a bit chilly but easily quelled with a heavy sweatshirt. This part of town has a decent amount of trees scattered around, blowing leaves of every warm shade across the sidewalks. Though more of a Summer guy himself, Sasuke can still appreciate the atmosphere of the season.
...maybe that’s what’s keeping Hinata out of the cafe. Surely all the colors and whatnot are giving her plenty of things to draw. He certainly wouldn’t blame her - it might not be the flowers and green of Summer, but surely it catches someone’s eye enough to maybe buy and support some of her work.
Twenty minutes pass in a mindless blur, Sasuke just strolling along whatever street strikes his fancy. It’s been a while since he’s been this far out on foot...and he tries not to drive when he can help it. Partly to save gas money, partly to be environmentally conscious...and mostly because he’d just rather be home.
Rounding a corner, he pauses as a faint...something reaches his ear. It sounds like music? Pinpointing the direction, he does his best to follow it, and eventually comes upon a street musician outside a small row of shops. No one he recognizes, they sit and play a guitar on a raised flower bed in the middle of the pedestrian-only street. Accompanying their playing they sing a few lyrics, a foot tapping in time to the music.
Watching, Sasuke can’t help a slowly-growing grin. He’s not a musician himself, never having tried (and having no motivation to), but his brother’s passion for it still rubs off on him a bit: he’s not an artist, but he’s a happy patron of it.
Every so often, people dare to scurry up and drop a tip in the open guitar case at his feet, earning a smile and a thankful nod with each note or clink or change. Taking out his wallet, Sasuke drops a ten dollar bill among the rest before retaking a place to watch.
“...Sasuke?”
Startling as his name is called, Sasuke glances around as a song ends, the small crowd clapping politely. A few feet over, seated on a bench with her sketchpad, is Hinata. “...hey!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Was going for a walk and heard the music...you?”
“Same, honestly. Was trying to find something to sketch.”
Glancing to her paper, he asks, “...you mind?”
In answer, she tilts it toward him. A scratchy but recognizable portrait of the musician is coming together under her hand. “I’ve only been here for about twenty minutes...I hope he stays long enough I can finish the sketch.”
“Could always ask him if he has plans to come back so you can keep going.”
“Mm...true.” Readjusting her work, she gets back to it as her model starts up another song.
Torn between curiosity and not wanting to be nosy, Sasuke only glances over every so often to catch a glimpse as she draws. Though she comes off as rather reserved, her strokes are anything but: sweeping, bold things that capture her subject in a grandiose style he wouldn’t have guessed to be hers if he didn’t see her do it himself. Swept up in it, he eventually just watches without pause, eyes following her movements as she slowly puts together her subject.
After another thirty minutes, the artist announces he has to pack it up, thanking the crowd for their generosity. By then, Hinata’s sketch is basically done: a likeness that Sasuke recognizes as very similar in its design to the one she did of him.
As the people break up and scatter, Hinata shyly approaches the guitarist, Sasuke hanging back as not to interrupt. Instead, he watches as she shows the man her work, which gets him to brighten and smile.
...for some reason, a slight damper weighs on Sasuke at the sight.
They talk for a minute more, the man nodding before moving to collect his tip and put away his instrument. Hinata in turn closes her sketchbook, retreating back to Sasuke. “He said he’ll be back on Wednesday, so I should be able to catch him.”
“That’s great. Think you’ll be able to finish it then?”
“Well, I usually just get the basic concept down with the s-subject, and then I fill in the blanks afterward from my imagination. It helps sort of...deviate it from reality a little bit. So it doesn’t feel too much like a...copy? More like a reference.”
“...I’ll pretend I understand that.”
That earns a laugh. “If I wanted to just copy what I was seeing, I might as well just take a photo, right? But I like to add my own style to what I draw. I get the skeleton in the sketch and cleaned up lines, and then I let my interpretation take over.”
Sasuke gives a slow nod. “...makes sense.”
“Do you…?”
“Hm?”
“Well, I was just curious if you do anything...creative,” Hinata offers, hugging her sketchbook to her chest. “Music, or...writing, maybe?”
“Me? Nah...my brother got all the creativity. I got all the logic. Not that he isn’t smart - he’s a genius. But I’ve never really found a creative outlet that I felt actually...fit me.”
Her head tilts, considering him for a moment. “I think...you might like p-photography.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s a rather...technical artform. There’s rules you can follow, like how to proportion a shot to be the most pleasing to the eye. And all sorts of things you can focus on. Some people do portraits, or landscapes...or micro photography: really close ups of small things to see all the details!”
Sasuke blinks owlishly. He’s...never considered that before. “...maybe I’ll give it a try.”
“I’d love to see if you do!”
“So...do you have more paintings?”
“Oh...lots,” she admits, laughing sheepishly. “I sell a few online, but...m-most just sit in my studio and collect dust…”
“Itachi contact you at all about some buyers?”
“Not yet, but it hasn’t been very long. Besides, he was already m-more than generous. I’m not about to hold him to it.”
“Well, knowing him, he’ll come through. He’s just a busy guy. But uh…” Sasuke idly itches his neck. “...I’d like to see more of your stuff sometime. If I could.”
“Oh! Um...sure!” Her expression turns sheepish again. “Let me just, um...tidy up before then. I tend to let things get a bit...messy. But I can text you sometime once things aren’t so...chaotic.”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay! Um...it was nice seeing you again, Sasuke. Guess we just keep bumping into each other, huh?”
“Yeah. Kinda nice.”
“Mhm!” After a brief, growingly-awkward pause, she then offers, “I...better get home, though.”
“Same here. Have, uh...a nice evening.”
“You too!” She takes off down the street, and he finds himself a bit thankful it’s not the way he’s going. Nothing more embarrassing than saying goodbye and then having to walk together after…
Still, Sasuke finds his spirits a bit lightened from earlier. Well...maybe now he’ll finally get that text. Until then...he’ll just have to be patient.
                                                              .oOo.
     (This is a sequel to day 85!)      Now THIS is a throwback xD But given the prompt, I couldn't NOT do a follow up to day 85. Which I've wanted to, I just...didn't have a good prompt / reminder until now lol      I like to think Hinata's a creative type. Sasuke...maybe not so much xD I like having him be a musician sometimes, but being Mr. Logical also suits him, so it just varies from time to time. I actually do have him do some photography in a piece or two - I agree with Hinata, it fits well x3      Anyway I reallllly need to get to bed, so...that's all for now! Thanks for reading~
16 notes ¡ View notes
sunflowerstrays ¡ 6 years ago
Text
starry night ➳ l.f ➳ 2
Tumblr media
lee felix x reader ft. kim seungmin and hwang hyunjin.
words: 2.5k.
genre: fluff.
requested? no.
- part 1 -
---
“The paint on your cheeks is really cute,” Felix says as you step out of your art class. You had spent all morning adding the final touches to a piece you had been working on, and as a result hadn’t bothered checking the mirror before you left. Seungmin takes out his phone and shows you in the camera were the few blue dots were scattered across your face. “Ready for lunch?”
“Always,” you grin as you finish wiping away the paint. Felix and Seungmin stand either side of you, yet you can sense the happiness coming from both of them; Felix had his best friend back, and Seungmin hadn’t lost his completely. The smile on your face couldn’t be challenged as the two of you sat in a small bakery, eating the most interesting things you could find on the menus and sharing those times you used to have.
The afternoon is spent doing the things that you missed doing with your two roommates. It feels different having Seungmin around, but you put that down to him being so absent recently. When the three of you finally crash at the apartment, Felix took to performing in the living room whilst you were busy drawing away, and Seungmin calling Hyunjin in the corridor.
“He’s talking to him again,” Felix sulks after he finishes rehearsing a piece he had been frantically trying to learn, sighing as he flops to the floor beside where you were sitting. You smile, reaching down and pushing his cheeks into a smile.
“He’s trying his best, Felix. We got him to hang out with us today after a long time of not seeing him; baby steps?” You let your hands drop, but the smile stays on his face for a short while.
“It didn’t feel right,” he whines quietly, pulling out his phone and scrolling through instagram besides you. “Like, I liked having him around again. But I like it more when it’s just us.” You can’t tell the tone of his response, and it makes you nervous. You put down your sketchpad and face him properly.
“What do you mean, Felix?”
“I- I don’t know,” he mumbles, putting down his phone and facing you now. “Before you, I loved hanging out with Seungmin. He was my favourite person to spend time with since I moved to Korea, where I didn't understand anything. But now that person is you… And it feels odd having him around now.”
You heart beats hard against your rib cage, and you aren’t sure how to respond. Instead you just smile at him as best as you can, before looking at the ground.
“You don’t mean that, he’s still your best friend Felix,” you sigh, but the boy shakes his head. He takes your hand, squeezes it before shrugging. The silence coming from him sends you a million mixed signals, and you aren’t sure how to respond to a single one of them.
Felix finally opens his mouth to say something, but Seungmin bounces into the room with exciting news before the smaller boy could continue.
“So I have some exciting news!” Seungmin grins, taking a seat opposite Felix and you. “Hyunjin just called. His parents had a dinner reservation at a fancy restaurant with some friends but they had to cancel. They said as a Christmas present they'd pay for all our meals instead of letting the reservation go to waste - tonight. Are you guys down for that?”
“Free food? Of course I am!” Felix says, grinning brightly at you. Nodding at Seungmin you smile at the glowing faces of both the boys. Felix stands up and drags you with him, knocking all the sketch pencils and pad off of your legs as you rise.
The piece you had recently been working on spills open, and Seungmin doesn't hesitate to pick up the book and glance at the drawing before you can hide it. A knowing smile crosses his face as he shuts it carefully, and hands it back to you. The look in his eye makes you blush hard as Felix dramatically pulls you towards the bedrooms, spinning you into your room before disappearing into his.
You open the sketchpad again and look down at the image. It was a creative piece, one you had been thinking of designing into a larger work for your finals. The person who had inspired the work was easy to identify though: Felix. His silhouette filled the page, freckles scattered across the page as little stars and his eyes glowing like the moon. Looking at it from a fresh angle made you understand why Seungmin had looked so smug at the work; it was clearly a piece that expressed admiration for Felix, and possibly did so in a manner that could be perceived as more than friends.
You groan and stuff the sketchpad under your pillow before changing into a simple, elegant outfit, not really sure how to dress up for this event. You figured a smart coat, nice scarf and brushed out hair was already a big improvement from your usual paint covered clothes, fluffy socks and scruffy buns. Still, that didn't stop you from feeling underdressed half an hour later sat opposite Hyunjin in the restaurant, who wore some expensive designer you hadn't even heard of before.
Sitting with the three boys reminded you of why you were so happy for Seungmin, despite his distance the last few months. You could see how happy Hyunjin really him, and how Hyunjin hung off of every word Seungmin had to say. Felix could see this as well, and despite his sadness at the thought of losing his best friend sometimes, seeing how happy he was in his new relationship made him very happy.
At least, this is what he told you as he walked home with you later. The two other boys had said they were going to catch a movie after dinner, and whilst you and Felix were free to join them, you felt it was a bit awkward to join them on their entire date with the boy you were beginning to desperately crush on. Besides, it was getting cold out and Felix was flying to the other side of the world in a few days, so you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.
“They are really cute together,” Felix says, his hand keeping yours warm as the two of you strolled along the pavement together. The sky was very cloudy and you couldn't see the moon or stars, which were your favourite things to watch usually. It was like they'd bled from the sky and scattered themselves across Felix's cheeks, and this was capturing all of your attention rather than what the boy was actually saying. “Hey, y/n?”
“Sorry Felix,” you say, rubbing your eyes and finally looking at him. “I'm very tired. These art finals are really starting to keep me up at night.”
“I can see,” he says, flicking your nose before pulling you along the road again. “Let's get you home and get you asleep. I think you need some rest.”
Felix continues to ramble about his theatre work he has coming up soon, and listening to his voice sends you into a daze. Something has happened today that has you dreaming about him more than usual, and you cannot work out what it is.
It is still bothering you when Felix lays alongside you in your bed. You'd been streaming a cheesy movie on your laptop before you'd finally dropped your head on his chest, half asleep and half wondering what these feelings for Felix were. Ever since Seungmin had made your feelings for him so blaringly obvious you hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. Felix wishes you a goodnight and continues watching the laptop screen, tracing patterns into your back that make resisting sleep even more impossible.
You are so close to giving in to the warmth that Felix provides that it startles you when he starts talking softly into your hair. His words are so deep and quiet that you don't quite know what you are hearing, but they make your heart race nonetheless.
“y/n I'm not sure what we are. But what I do know is that I'm happy. Whether we are friends or more, I'm happy with you. And this is what I had planned to tell you tonight, because you looked so beautiful in that restaurant that I just wanted to confess there and then. But I've kept quiet, resisted the urge to tell you, and with Christmas I worry about what will happen.”
“You've got to tell them,” Seungmin's voice from the doorway makes Felix jump beside you, so much so that you accidentally sit up as well. The colour Felix turns makes him look like a ghost, and Seungmin doesn't look much better in the doorway. “Oh sorry. I didn't realise you were both awake-”
“I didn't realise you were awake eitherith, y/n,” the panic in Felix's voice makes you feel awful for staying awake and listening. You shake your head, rubbing your tired eyes and resting a hand on his.
“I was asleep. What happened?” You play it off to rest the boy’s nerves, and slowly the colour returns to his face. He physically relaxes, sinking into his bed again as he gazes at you lovingly.
“Nothing. Seungmin came home all loved up and gave me a fright,” Felix giggles, twisting a lock of your hair around his finger before letting his hand drop. “Come on, it’s fine. Isn’t it Seungmin?”
In the doorway Seungmin nods slowly, giving you his priceless sweet smile before backing out, leaving Felix and you in silence save for the end of the film playing. Felix makes a whiny sound, pulling you back towards him for another hug and trying to play off what has happened. His words are the only thing you can focus on as he tries to lull you back to sleep.
---
Unlocking your apartment door after three weeks of spending Christmas around your chaotic family feels weird. The silence in there is a relief after such a hectic few weeks. You knew that you’d have the apartment free for a few days after returning as Felix was flying in from Australia just before school started again, and Seungmin was returning in about two days from his hometown.
So when you abandon your bag in the hallway and tiredly pace down the corridor, seeing a ginger haired boy on the couch was not what you were expecting. Felix jumps up at seeing you in the corridor, clearly not expecting you to be home either.
“Y/n? You are back already?” He asks, rubbing his eyes. You could see the jet lag set in his figure, from the sleepy look in his eyes to the droop in his shoulders.
“Yes - You aren’t supposed to be back for another week Felix?” You ask, walking over and joining him on the couch. He spreads his small body out comfortably, clearly before close to falling asleep again.
“I know. My flight got rearranged and I had to come back. I don’t know. All this travelling is really messing with me,” Felix says, yawning tiredly. “Besides, I missed you and Seungmin. Can you blame me?”
“I guess I missed you as well,” you teasingly say, poking his sides. “It’s good to have you back. Did you want anything to eat?”
“No, I just want to catch up with you!” He says with the most adorable sleepy tone. “So tell me all about your Christmas.” You sit beside him comfortably on the couch, running your hands through his freshly dyed hair and telling him all about your time away. When you’ve finished he’s happy to tell you all about his time in Australia.
“It sounds so wonderful,” you say in awe when he finishes. “I would love to visit some time. I’m very envious of you.”
“Honestly we should go some time,” Felix says absentmindedly. His words make you smile, but it still makes you jump when he shoots up from the seat and stares at you intensely. “In fact, actually, about that.”
“What about what?” You ask, confusion laced in your tone. Felix takes your hands in his, but refuses to look you in the eyes. “Felix?”
“When I was in Australia, I had a lot of questions about here. What was school like, where was I living, who my best friends were. Family being family, and namely my mother and aunts, were all asking me about any relationships I had. It had me thinking a lot about things, y/n, and this is something that I have wanted to tell you for a very long time.
“I really like you. More than I’ve ever liked anyone before. And I’ve been thinking about this for such a long time now that it’s bothering me that I haven’t said anything sooner. And it isn’t the dramatic moment that I wanted it to be but I doubt you’ll even like me back-”
“Stop talking,” you say gently, pressing your finger to his lips. He sits there like a rabbit caught in headlights, clearly wanting to ramble more until he can’t breathe anymore. “I’m so glad you finally said something. Because I wasn’t sure how to, and I didn’t think I could survive any longer either.”
“Wait- you- what- me- yes?” Felix babbles behind your hand, taking it from his mouth and holding it tightly. “You like me too?”
“Yes, you fool! How did you not know?” You giggle, a blush spreading across your face. Felix gives you the brightest smile before wrapping you in a hug, burying his face in your shoulder.
“Oh my gosh. I am an idiot,” he says when he finally pulls away. “Guess I can do this the fancy way I’ve always wanted?” And like that, he is back to his usual self.
“Be my guest.”
“Y/n, would you allow me, Lee Felix,” he jumps off of the couch and crouches to one knee, taking your hand in his. You can’t help the laughter that escapes you as he dramatically shakes his hair back, “To take you on a date?”
“If you can find somewhere in the city we haven’t already platonically explored, Felix, I would be honoured for you to,” you reply cheesily. The bright smile on his face shines more than the sun does on a hot summer day. The boy doesn’t hesitate in wrapping you in the softest hug ever, pulling you close until you slip off of the couch and join him on the floor.
Having the words out of your head and in the air between you feels so much better. Your Christmas period had also been spent with family who were curious when you'd settle down with someone. Felix was always the person that came to mind, but you were convinced it would never been him.
And now, there was a chance that it could be him.
73 notes ¡ View notes
littleindigochildx ¡ 5 years ago
Text
“I’ll race ya to the door!” Savanna said as she and Timmy got off the school bus. Thanksgiving break was on the horizon and all the kids at Palm Valley Elementary were amped up with anticipation. Five whole days with no homework to worry about and no waking up early. That was reason enough to celebrate.
“Savvy! No fair! Ya cheated!” Timmy groaned as he did his best to catch up to his little sister. The weight of his book bag slowed him down and Savanna made it to their front door before him. When he finally caught up, he noticed she had something in her hand. “What’s that?” The little boy questioned. His gaze fell to the package Savanna was holding. “Someone sent ya mail?” His brows arched and his eyes widened. “Who’s it from?” Timmy asked, but what he really wanted to know was why didn’t he get one? Savvy shrugged. There wasn’t a return address, in fact, there wasn’t an address at all, just her name written in perfect cursive. “Open it.” Timmy instructed. Savanna seemed apprehensive. “What if it’s a Christmas present?” She replied. Timmy had to admit, she had a good point. “It doesn’t got Christmas paper on it… I don’t think it’s a Christmas present.” The eight year old spoke. “Just open it.”
Savanna hesitated for another moment, but eventually gave in. Timmy had to be right. If it was a Christmas present, why didn’t Timmy have one too? Besides...Christmas wasn’t for another 6 weeks. Savvy ripped the brown packaging off and handed the trash to her brother for the time being. “Well...What is it?” He asked. “It’s a….” Savvy flipped the gift over to get a better look. “A notepad.” Timmy instantly lost interest. A notepad wasn’t exciting, even if it was left there mysteriously. “Just’a notepad?” He questioned with a sigh. “I thought it was gonna be a video game.” He pouted slightly. “There’s nothin’ excitin’ ‘bout’a notepad.” He handed her the garbage back and headed inside. The gift may not have been exciting to Timothy, but Savvy loved it! It was customized with her name and even though the pages were blank, they shimmered in the light. She couldn’t wait to fill it with drawings and doodles. “Savanna, please get started on your homework. Dinner will be ready shortly.” Victoria called from inside the house. Doodles would need to wait until after dinner.
Savvy tucked the notepad (and trash) into her school bag for safe keeping. She would have to figure out where they came from later, but for now it was time for homework. Savanna was relieved she didn’t have a lot. Some spelling and a couple of math questions. She’d be finished in half an hour, tops. “Savvy, aren’t ya gonna show mom the new…” Savanna cut her brother off before he could finish his sentence. “The picture I made in art class?” She gave Timmy a look. He was confused but played along. Clearly she didn’t want Vic to find out about the gift. If Victoria thought the notepad was a gift from David, she might take it away, so Savanna thought it was best to keep it a secret. “Look mommy. I made’a picture of us at Thanksgivin’ dinner.” Vic looked at the lovely drawing with a smile. Savanna drew everyone she loved sitting around a table sharing a big turkey dinner. “This is beautiful, Butterfly… but who’s this?” The brunette questioned. Savanna added someone Victoria had never seen before. A woman with very curly hair.
“That is Zelda.” Savanna replied simply. “She’s my friend, but only I can see her.” The seven year old explained further. Savanna was a very imaginative child, so the fact that she had an imaginary friend wasn’t out of the ordinary. “I see.” Victoria ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Well I hope Zelda can join us for Thanksgiving, baby.”
—————
The children had a half hour before Victoria would tell them it was time to get ready for bed. Timothy was using the free time to play his Nintendo Switch. Vic didn’t care much for electronic devices so she limited the amount of time her kids spent in front of their iPads, video games, and the television screen. “Wanna come play?” Timothy asked his little sister but Savvy politely declined. “I’m gonna draw.” She explained. Timothy had forgotten all about the notepad Savanna got that afternoon, but the seven year old sure didn’t. She had so many ideas for things she could draw she wasn’t sure where to begin.
Savanna pulled the gift out of her book bag and placed it on the desk so she could grab the rest of her art supplies. When she returned, something caught her attention. “This wasn’t here before…” She commented out loud. There was a heart after her name on the front of it. She was almost certain it wasn’t there earlier but she shrugged it off and opened to the first page.
With colored pencils in hand, Savvy began to draw a picture of a tea party. Attendees included, Teddy, (her beloved stuffed teddy bear) her new friend Zelda, and herself. Each of them were dressed in fancy attire. The plates in front of them were piled high with cakes and cookies galore. “I wish you were real.” Savanna said out loud as she stared at her completed masterpiece. “I wish ya could really have’a tea party with me, Zelda. It would be so much fun.” Victoria used to have tea parties with Savanna once a week, but lately she had been too busy. If work wasn’t calling her in to cover someone’s shift, she was out with Declan or meeting with her lawyer in regards to the custody battle and and David were in the middle of. The seven year old missed having someone she could talk to… She missed having someone she could share her day with. That was part of the reason she created Zelda. Even if the woman wasn’t real, Savvy like pretending she had someone there to listen to her problems.
“Savanna. It’s time to get ready for bed.” Victoria’s voice pulled the little girl from her thoughts and she quickly closed the notepad. “Mommy...When it’s Thanksgivin’ break do I still need’a go ta sleep this early?” The kids usually began their bedtime routines at eight. By eight thirty they were tucked in with the lights out. “We’ll see…” Victoria replied with a tired smile. “You know the drill. Brush your teeth, get into pajamas, and pick out a story. I’ll be in to read it to you once I make sure you’re brother’s off of his video game.” Timmy didn’t take nearly as long to get ready for bed as Savanna did, and he no longer requested bedtime stories, so getting him ready for bed was always easier.
—————
Victoria made sure Timmy was tucked in before she rejoined Savanna in her bedroom. “Did you pick out a story, Butterfly?” She asked. Savanna nodded. “I picked The Last Unicorn.” It was one of the seven year old’s favorite books, and even though she was fully capable of reading it on her own, she still liked when Victoria, David, or Declan read to her.
“The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea.” Victoria read. Every night they would curl up in Savvy’s bed and Vic would read another chapter. This was the third time reading the same book.
“Mommy…” The little brunette interrupted the story. “Do you believe in magic?” Her question caught Victoria off guard so it took her a moment to respond. “I do… Do you?” She smiled. Savanna. Her free spirit. Her dreamer. Her child with an extraordinary imagination. Of course she believed in magic. She believed all things were possible. Vic hoped she would always believe that. “Do ya believe wishes can really come true?” Savvy asked. Another brief pause from Victoria before she replied. “I do.” She wasn’t sure why Savanna was asking these questions. Maybe it had to do with Vic and David getting back together...Or Vic and Declan getting back together. “Do you have a wish that you want to come true?” Savanna nodded, but she didn’t give any more detail than that. She was afraid if she said it out loud it wouldn’t come true at all.
—————
Twenty minutes later, the chapter was over and Victoria closed the book and placed it on Savanna’s nightstand. “Time for you to get some rest.” Vic tucked her youngest in and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Butterfly. Sweet dreams.” Savvy’s fairy lights were plugged in to ward off anything that might be lurking in the night. “G’nite mommy. I love you.” The seven year old said through a yawn. She wrapped her arms around Teddy and rolled onto her side. It wasn’t long before sleep took hold of her.
----------
A soft glow came from the corner of Savanna’s bedroom, but it wasn’t from her fairy lights… This glow came from within the pages of her new sketchpad. Savvy didn’t know it, but her drawing was more than just a drawing and her new friend Zelda was more than just imaginary.
“Wha..” The seven year old rubbed her eyes as the glowing intensified. For a minute she wasn’t sure if she was awake or dreaming. The clock on her nightstand read 3:00am on the dot. Everyone else in the house was fast asleep. At least Savanna thought they were. But if that was true...Who was standing next to her bed? “Zel…” She didn’t finish before the woman’s face came into view. She was standing there clear as day. “Zelda? Is that you?” Her brow arched. Savanna should have been scared that a stranger was in her house, but she wasn’t scared at all. “But how… You’re not…” Words were escaping her. “Are you real?” The little brunette asked as she sat up with Teddy in her lap.
“How did ya get out’a my notebook?” Savanna questioned before she remembered the conversation she had with Victoria before she went to sleep. “Magic?” Her eyes widened. “My wish!” Surely it had to be that. Savanna made a wish before bed that Zelda would come to life, and here she was dressed in the exact same outfit Savvy drew her in. “Are ya here for our tea party?” She didn’t care that it was the middle of the night. If Zelda agreed to it, Savanna would gladly sacrifice her sleep to have a tea party with her.
“Zelda...If ya came here cause’a my wish...How long do ya get’a stay here for?” The little one stared up at the woman with a hopeful expression. “Forever?” Savvy really hoped it would be forever. “You can come ta Thanksgivin’ dinner. Mommy already said it was okay.” The seven year old grinned. She was still in disbelief that her drawing had come to life. “Are you the one who sent me the notepad?”
Stirring across the hall caught Savanna’s attention before she could press Zelda for more answers. “Quick! Ya got’a hide. I think my mommy is comin’.... In the closet. Go, go!” Savvy wasn’t trying to hide Zelda from her family, she just knew Victoria would freak if she saw a stranger in the middle of her daughter’s bedroom in the middle of the night.
“Butterfly, what are you doing up at this hour?” Vic flipped on the lights which made Savvy wince. “Just’a bad dream, mommy.” The little girl fibbed. “I’m okay.” She added. Victoria nodded. She was too tired to question the little one any further. “Back to bed then. You’ve got school in the morning.” She reminded the seven year old. “G’nite mama.” Savvy laid back down and rolled onto her side as Vic turned the lights off again. “Sweet dreams, my baby.” And with that, the door was closed again.
“Zelda? Are ya’ still here?” Savvy asked, this time she got out of bed. “Sorry for makin’ ya hide. I didn’t want mommy ta wake up Declan….That’s her….” Savanna hadn’t really thought about his title until now and she shrugged when she couldn’t come up with a way to explain how he and Vic knew each other. “He’s my big brother an’ big sister’s daddy. Me an’ Timmy got’a different daddy. We don’t get’a see him very much cause he lives in California.” The child explained. “But maybe you can meet him if he comes ta’ Thanksgivin’.” Savanna grinned. “You can stay here as long as ya want. We can borrow clothes from mommy an’ you can sleep here.” The little girl crouched down to pull the trundle bed out. The sheets were fresh, she just needed a pillow and blanket. “Do magic people sleep?” Savanna asked curiously. She had seen the first Twilight and knew (at least in that movie) vampires didn’t sleep, but she wasn’t sure if that meant all non-mortals didn’t sleep. Was Zelda not a mortal?
“I bet yer prolly really hungry… I can get ya some food from the kitchen. What do ya like?” Clearly she took after her mother. Victoria was such a gracious hostess. She always prepared the best meals, made the most creative c*cktails (alcoholic and virgin), and had the best snacks when company came over. “I can make ya the best peanut butter an’ jelly sandwich. I’m really good at makin’ um. Even better than Timmy. We just need’a be extra quiet because we don’t wanna wake anybody up. Kay?” The child smiled. “An’ Zelda…” Savanna paused to look at the woman again. “I’m really glad yer not ‘maginary anymore.”
Tumblr media
1 note ¡ View note
hispeculiartreasure ¡ 7 years ago
Text
Dress Shopping - Steve Rogers x Reader
Well, y’all. I’m doing it.
I’m posting my writing and I’m scared out of my mind. But here we are. This is a little drabble I wrote a few months ago when found in a very similar situation. I’d love to know what y’all think. But go easy on me, hehe.
Shout-out to @ursulaismymiddlename for pep-talking me and @abovethesmokestacks for inspiring this drabble in the first place. And @firewolfkelly, it’s not the story I’m writing for that WIP challenge, but it’s something! I’ve stalled long enough. Here goes!
Word Count: 2kish
~
When you flipped through your calendar and saw ‘Johnson Wedding’ scrawled in next Saturday’s slot, you wanted to implode. The best man happened to be your ex-boyfriend, the last serious relationship you’d had before Steve. The relationship had ended. . . poorly, to say the least. Your heart had been trampled on by the manipulative jerk and it had taken a while for you to recover. You briefly pondered upon the idea of skipping the wedding altogether, but the bride had been such a steadfast friend in college and you couldn’t bear the thought of missing her big day.
You’d torn through your closet for a suitable dress, knowing full well there was nothing that would make you feel as confident as you needed to.
Huffing out a sigh, you ran a hand through your hair, hoping a new dress would appear from thin air. You were so preoccupied with how to solve your dilemma that you didn’t hear the several heavy knocks or the front door to your apartment opening. So when a muscled arm snaked around your waist, you nearly jumped out of your skin.
Steve snickered from behind you, “Sorry, darlin’, didn’t mean to scare ya.”
“It’s okay, I was just distracted,” you leaned up to steal a chaste kiss, “I’m so glad you’re home. How’d the mission go?” You rubbed the arm wrapped around you and leaned back against his broad chest, reveling in your boyfriend’s presence. His suit was scratchy against your skin, but it merely served as a reminder that he was back.
He presses his lips to your shoulder, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “It’s over, and we’re all safe. That’s what matters.” He felt the tension in your body and lifted his eyes to scan your face, noticing the furrow in your brow for the first time. “What’s on your mind?”
Shaking your head, you mutter, “It’s stupid.”
Steve’s hands settled on your hips to gently turn you around. “It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”
“I forgot about a super formal wedding I have to go to next Saturday and I don’t have a dress. I need a good dress.”
“What about that blue one? I love you in that dress.”
You wrap your arms around his neck as you giggle, “I know you do. You love it so much it has a rip along one of the seams that I’ve yet to have repaired.” His cheeks grew faintly pink at the memory of him being slightly overzealous after a date night a few weeks ago.
“How about the black one you wore to Tony’s birthday party?” he asked thoughtfully.
You scrunched your nose in disgust. “Eh, I didn’t like the way it felt on my hips.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed as they scanned your face. “What’s this really about, doll?”
“He is in the wedding,” you add before you began chewing on your lip nervously. You’d been honest with him from the start about the volatile relationship with your ex-boyfriend. And he’d done everything he could to reassure you that you were worth so much more than your ex had led you to believe.
Steve stilled momentarily before pulling you closer. “Okay. And you’re set on going to the wedding?” You nod reluctantly. “I wish I could be there. We just received new intel on a Hydra sleeper cell, so Tony scheduled us to leave on a mission next Friday.”
Of course Steve was going to be gone. And you’d be left to fend for yourself at a wedding filled with reminders of a failed relationship. You wanted to comfort him, let him know that it wasn’t a big deal, you could handle yourself for one day. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure that was the case. So instead you said, “I wish you could be there too.”
Steve’s face fell, remorse causing his brows to knit together over his gorgeous baby blue eyes. “So we need a new dress?”
“Probably. But the idea of shopping right now sounds so stressful, there’s no way I’d be able to make a decision.”
“I’ll come with you.”
You immediately began shaking your head as you said, “Oh Steve, you just got back, I’m sure you’re tired and just want to rest.”
“I missed you, doll. I don’t care what we do, as long as I get to be with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
Steve pressed his forehead against yours, breathing you in. “I know. But I want to.”
~
An hour later, Steve’s arms were laden with a dozen dresses, the pile continuing to grow. He encouraged you to grab anything you even slightly liked, promising to give you his honest opinion. After you’d barricaded yourself in the dressing room, Steve took a seat on the couch a few feet away. But none of the dresses were right. They were too frumpy, too revealing, too tight, too baggy, too eccentric, too boring.
You rubbed your hands down your face, too frustrated to look at the lime green monstrosity you were wearing. “Why did you think this would ever look good?” you chastised yourself in the mirror.
“Babe?” Steve knocked on the dressing room door, “You doing okay? You haven’t come out in a while.”
“Nooooo,” you groan, “I hate trying on clothes.”
“Would you mind if I choose a few for you to try on? I just saw a few dresses out here I really like.”
You move your hands, narrowing your eyes at the door. He wanted to. . . shop for you? The idea of Steve, leader of the Avengers, searching for the perfect dress made you stifle a giggle. Although he was an artist with an eye for colors and shapes. What could it hurt? “Umm I guess not. I’m not having any success on my own.”
“I’ll be right back, hold tight.”
A few minutes later Steve hung up another assortment of gowns in the changing room. Your eyes roved over the array of bright colors and fabrics. The only time you’d seen dresses like these was when they were on models coming down a runway. You would never pick these out for yourself, you tended to stay on the more classic side of fashion.
“Steve. . . these are. . . bold,” you comment, lifting up a crazily patterned mini-dress.
“They’re what the salesgirl called ‘haute couture’. I think they’re unique and different, just like you,” you raised an eyebrow at the cheesiness and he shrugged, “Just try them. You never know. And if you hate them, we can go to another store.”
What did you really have to lose at this point? You gestured for Steve to return to his seat, a grin seemingly glued to his face.
Steve loved you in the high-fashion gowns. His fingers itched for a notepad and pencil -- hell, he’d settle for a napkin and eye liner right now -- to capture your graceful shape in the flowing fabrics. You looked like royalty. He’d buy every single dress if he thought he could convince you to wear them all the time. You were his favorite subject, his muse if he let his artistic mind get away from him. There was something timeless about you that had drawn him in from the very beginning. You had no idea, but there were several sketchpads filled with your portrait. They were mostly drawn when you didn’t know he was looking. Steve wanted to commit your face to memory, and drawing was his way of processing you over and over.
You were perched in front of a large mirror now, not far from his seat on the couch. The dress you were currently floating around in was his favorite. The high neckline fell just below your collarbones to perch on the top of your shoulders. Ruby red flowed from the cinched waist to tumble to your feet, intricate beading swirling along. You were watching yourself with a critical eye, fingers tracing the beads absentmindedly. He could feel the uncertainty radiating from you and it broke his heart. When he looked at you, he saw your eyes shining with kindness. He noticed the pink curve of your lips and the welcoming presence your arms afforded. He wished he could show you what he saw. Which is why he would show you his sketchbooks one day, when he thought he had finally captured your perfection on paper.
The truth was, you loved this dress. This was the first time you hadn’t felt ridiculous all day -- you felt elegant. If the way Steve was looking at you was any indication, this was the dress you needed to wear to the wedding. You turned around to face the blond, his blatant adoration causing blood to rush to your cheeks. Flinging your arms out to the side you asked anyway, “What do you think?”
He muttered your name reverently before adding, “You look beautiful. And that color on you is stunning. I love it.”
“I really like it too,” you confessed quietly, looking down as you swiveled your hips to watch the fabric flow, “but there are a few more left to try on. I would hate for your hard work to go to waste,” you added with a hint of teasing.
“Sure thing. But this dress is the contender, without a doubt. Do you feel good in it?”
You tilt your head thoughtfully, nodding as you say, “I do,” and Steve’s grin widened as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
You make your way back to the dressing room and moved a few dresses you’d already vetoed to find the last of Steve’s choices. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the gorgeous white dresses in front of you. They were just a few fancy details shy of wedding gowns. The thought of Steve seeing these and thinking of you sent warm fuzzy feelings from your head to your toes. The two of you had never talked about marriage before, you’d never known if that was something on his mind.
Reaching out to feel the soft fabric of a lace dress, your mind began to wander. It’s not like you hadn’t thought of spending the rest of your life with Steve. Oh, you had. But you’d never let yourself dream of a wedding. Now thoughts of flower arrangements and tuxedos and rings were running through your head. There was no way you could buy one of these dresses to wear to your friend’s wedding. . . that didn’t mean you couldn’t tease Steve a little bit, though. Once you slipped the lacy dress over your head, you opened the door to show Steve.
That boy’s eyes nearly popped of out his head when you came into his line of sight.
“Steve, you know I can’t wear this, right?”
He blinked a few times, then finally looked you in the eye. “But why not?”
“Because I’m not the one getting married. . . which is usually what a white dress means. . .” you trail off, giving him a small, knowing smile.
He was quiet for a few seconds as he processed your meaning. “I-I. . . oh, yeah, ri-right, of course,” he stuttered out before clearing his throat, shaking his head while rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, “that’d be kinda rude.”
“Besides that. . . what do you think?” you almost regretted asking him, hoping you hadn’t pushed any boundaries.
Steve stood, his face pensive. He grabbed your hands in his, the pads of his thumbs swiping over the back of them. Standing toe to toe, him looking down at you with such softness, hands entwined, the warm fuzzies began to flutter in your stomach again.
“You. . . are exquisite. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in white a little more often.”
“Oh yeah?” you whisper.
“Yeah,” he nodded, leaning closer so your noses almost touched. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I think I might like it better than the blue dress,” he smirked before pressing his lips to yours in a dizzying kiss. “Also,” he added as he pulled away, “I called Tony while you were changing. I got him to push the mission back so I can go to the wedding with you. If you still want me there.”
Relief bubbled out of you in the form of laughter, throwing yourself into his arms and squeezing his neck. “Thank you, Steve. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“Anything for you, baby-doll. Now let’s buy you that red dress and go home.”
You sigh contentedly. “Sounds good to me. On one condition.”
“Yes ma’am,” Steve questioned as his large hands settled on your lower back.
“You don’t get to touch that dress until after the wedding. Understood?”
He threw his head back in mock frustration, your laughter drowning out his groans. “Fine, fine. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
Your heart swelled with gratefulness for having found this man. You thought after your previous heartbreak that this kind of affection and commitment was lost to you forever. Instead, you couldn’t help but confess just how much you cared for him. “I love you, Steve.”
“I love you too,” he returned easily, though with the same amount of gravity.
It took one of the employees clearing their throats for the two of you to separate from your embrace, something being muttered about Captain America being caught making out in public. This only stirred sheepish laughter and more kisses as you started to think that maybe this wedding could be fun after all.
363 notes ¡ View notes
oreopata ¡ 7 years ago
Text
Post-23rd Birthday Post!
Thank you all so, so much for the kind Birthday messages yesterday! :D Especially to my good friends @sibera-the-wanderer, @ecmcookiez, @rationalnonsense, @strangehyperbole & @vannjaren. I really appreciate every single one of them, thank you for making me smile.Sorry I couldn't get back to you all sooner. Yesterday was a lot busier than I anticipated. I was mostly expecting a quiet day for myself, but I ended up moving about all over the show.
Tumblr media
First was attending the weekly art class. What better way to spend my birthday then to get some drawing done? I was already full on inspiration and drive because of the Dolan Kart art competition I’m hoping to enter. Today, Trish was giving a demonstration on lighting effects, such as run rays, dappled light and how their interact with their environments and perspective. `While I have dipped my toes in these kinds of things before, digitally. I was still eager to try it out traditionally. While the demonstrations were done in watercolour and acrylic, I only had black and white India ink with me yesterday. I wasn’t deterred, since one of my favourite online art teachers, Istebrak, always says that you should master greyscale before moving onto colours. While I did manage to use some masking tape in my A3 sketchpad to block out some test squares and fill in a greyscale background tone  as a first layer, it pretty much took the entire lesson to dry. So I was left with plenty of free time to think over a lot of other projects I have in mind and rough out some other pictures. 
Upon telling my classmates it was my birthday, they just HAD to make it more known by singing happy birthday in front of everyone! (despite me begging them not to) XD Served me right for mentioning it out loud, plus I think they mentioned something about being sick with envy at me youth (Since I’m the youngest person there by decades, not that I mind. Even as a kid, I got along better with adults than people my own age). But it was still funny. Everyone was so nice.  
After class, I waited for my shopping to arrive, got myself a packet of mini red-velvet cupcakes to have instead of a birthday cake. Planning to have two of them with a side of Ben & Jerry’s Birthday cake Ice cream and celebrate. ’Even got to give a few to my neighbour and my parents. 
At 4 O’clock, I made my way to visit my mum dad for a couple hours. I thought I knew what I was expecting as I strolled to my destination under the lovely (small bit of) sunshine we had that day. But mum had arranged a little surprise… As I turn the corner, who do I see other than my mum, my sister in law, Christine; and my nephew, Theo! YAY!!!! 
Tumblr media
‘Turns out mum felt bad that she couldn’t do anything for birthday this year. Given that we are both busy, she’s recovering from an operation etc. So she invited them both over. I’d already not seen them for weeks, so this was the best possible surprise. Having fun with the little man and having him request more pictures for me to draw. He gave me a quite the challenge in the form of a “Humpty Dumpty Dinosaur”. But, anything at all for my little bear cub - since he loves my drawings so much. Even making his way over the the couch I was sitting on to watch and draw with me.
So much happened for me to describe and remember it all, but along with him singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me, him pretending to be a doctor and fixing my mum, dressing as a king (or queen as he declared himself over and over. And by God if my nephew wants to proudly declare himself the queen than he’s gonna be the best bloody queen!) and having fun hiding pens in my hair.
I received such wonderful gifts as well, a nice bottle of white wine from mum and dad. And from Theo & the family; A box of Cadbury heroes, and a beautiful hand-made scented candle. Christine has a real talent for hand-making things such as this. The china teacup and saucer are this gorgeous light green colour with gold accents. I soon worked out the perfect place to put it; Something about it reminded me a lot of my gran, so now it sits pride and place on the little alter I have in her memory (located inside my office). 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Once I was back home, I got a call from my neighbour, whom I just adore. He said, 
“Hey pretty girl, fancy coming over?” 
I know I was made-up for the day with my usual signature hairstyle, eyeliner and red lipstick, but I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! ME?! PRETTY?! FROM HIM!?! As I got my arse next door, I saw a trail of red carnation flowers leading from the front steps into his house!
Tumblr media
As if the flowers weren’t enough, he’d actually gone out and bought me a bottle of Baileys, a chocolate cake and a new sketchbook! Even though I’d had already seen him earlier that day in order to give him a cupcake and give him some Kitchen rolls I got for him along with my online shopping, as requested. But he did say he’d see me later that night. My close friends will know about him already and know that few days go by where I’m not so fucking happy that I know this man. He’s still one of the best things to happen in my life since my Gran’s death. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
As is usual with us, we sat, drank and had deep and meaningful conversations until the sun went down. I didn't get back to my house to order have a bath and order a takeaway. Not that I minded, I knew I wanted this day to be long and to enjoy it to the fullest. I’m so happy I got to spend it with my favourite people and still have time to chill in my own house. 
Once I was back home, it was time to dress down, get the slap off my face, and hop in the bath. I haven't been able to take a bath in ages due to the tiles falling off on top of me and had to use my shower (despite it leaking buckets into the kitchen below). Thank God I’d recently had some men in to FINALLY get it fixed - long story. Once I had my soak, I applied a mud mask, slipped into something more comfortable and treat myself to a takeaway. At first, I was going to get myself a burger or chicken kebab, but I opted for a Chinese. Since, I can make the leftovers last me a few days and spare myself the extra time to cook something. Then I could end the night with the before mentioned Red velvet and Ice Cream. Combine those with the confectionaries I’ve been given, and I’m defiantly not going to be starving - even if my diet is temporarily fucked.
Tumblr media
 I had a great time eating, drinking, wrapped up in my lion throw-blanket and watching some good telly: from watching Mock the Week to marathoning youtube videos until 2:00am. Not bad, considering I woke up at 5:00am that day. So, I’ve been taken today nice and slow. 
I‘ll admit, in the upcoming days leading up to my birthday, I’ve been mostly feeling upset about it. Mainly because I’ve been thinking about how I’ll be 23 and I was just feeling like I’d achieved nothing of value in my life yet. I feel like I should have a regular job and have achieved more by now. I’ve just had setback after setback that have just caused be to delay my plans. I was hoping to be open for business and be taking commissions months ago. And the time I’ve been dedicating towards setting up my art business has taken time away from writing my graphic novel. My friends will know of all the other stresses and heartaches I’ve been having recently too. 
But despite that all that, I couldn't help but wonder in my mind maybe things would now be different with my new age? While every bit of progress I’ve made has felt like drops in a bucket, I’ve recently made some small victories. I’ve been looking into different methods of packaging prints for shipping, I’ve come closer to working out my businesses aesthetics, my art itself has greatly improved - as has my work ethic. 
During yesterday’s class, I found out that we will be having ourselves a private exhibition on the 10th of May. For months I’ve been panicking about being open for business before then so I could have business cards available. Only now do I know that it will be a exhibition just for us. It’s different from the annual public exhibition they usually have (having known about the class from last year’s) so WOO HOO!! I HAVE MORE TIME!!! 
The exhibition is on the 10th of May, the day before the deadline for the Dolan art competition. So from now until then, I am going to be in for a very busy fortnight. So I am gonna be dead to the world, but very productive. Still, I’ll do my best to keep you all updated! :)
MY FACEBOOK | MY DEVIANT-ART | MY YOUTUBE
7 notes ¡ View notes
ad1ostoreador ¡ 7 years ago
Text
((also jumping in on the art talk! @thalassophiloustopaz
seconding basically everything you’ve been told, and tossing in my own two cents.  first of all, there is always, always going to be someone whose skill just makes you green with envy, and you don’t understand how they got so good, and why you’re not so good, and how they can complain about not getting enough likes or reblogs or asspats, or whatever, when you pour your soul and tears into a piece and then get like one (1) validation notice.  every single artist feels that, I promise.  at some point in their life. probably at many points in their life. the trick is to let that mobilize you, not paralyze you. find artists you like, and watch their streams, whenever you have the chance.  instead of just seeing the amazeballs finished product and weeping, you see every step of the way there, how they make the tools do the thing to get the result they want.  if you see someone do a thing that looks neat, that you didn’t realize the tools could do? practice with those! see what they do when you use them. go outside your comfort zone. i’ve been drawing since I was a wee bab, but I had a dry spell of about... god. it must have been between about 2008 and 2016, when I didn’t make art. I had done a lot of it previously, laboriously, with a mouse... then I finally bought a tablet for myself, had just bought a new computer and had to change art programs, and promptly discovered that I had to re-teach myself how to use any of it. I couldn’t get the results I was used to, I was in the middle of changing fandoms, and I just... quit in frustration.  I didn’t come back to it for years.  but finally I sucked it up, picked up an old sketchpad, and started doodling around with some dusty pencils and pens i had sitting around.  I was way out of practice, but it helped bring back the muscle memory. so like... don’t be discouraged and stop. the only wrong direction is stopping. and don’t let anyone convince you that either skill or results depend on having some kind of super fancy tool. they don’t.  to give you some idea, here are some random-ass things i’ve drawn over the years.
Tumblr media
top left? I did that probably 10 years ago or more with nothing but a mouse and a lot of use of a finger-smudge tool in a program so old it won’t run on any modern computer. top right, I did several years later, after I bought a tablet and was trying to teach myself what to do with it. I hated it, I hated how sketchy it looked, and if you compare the two? objectively, yeah, it was a step down. but it was also a step forward. and instead of moving forward, I sat my ass down on that step and cried about it and put my tablet on a shelf to get dusty.  bottom left I did years later, once I’d picked the tablet up again, blown the dust off, and started trying to actually learn how to use it. it let me do some things I couldn’t do before. it also didn’t let me do some things the same way I used to. I had to learn alternatives.  bottom right was done a couple of weeks ago.  am I where I want to be? not really. I’m still learning new things all the time, but I think I’m starting to see bits and pieces of how the things I learned years ago can apply to the tools I have now. and lastly, I know everyone says it, and I know it’s the last thing anyone wants to hear, but practice. practice drawing shapes fast, practice drawing details slow, practice figure drawing, practice drawing random people who walk past you on a busy street, practice drawing what you see out your window, practice drawing a shoe in the middle of your floor. practice over and over and over. practice with pens and pencils, practice with fingerpaint if you want, practice with a tablet, practice with the binary tool, practice with the airbrush tool, practice with a funny brush that looks like a duck stamp, even. the point of practicing is not to produce museum-quality pieces you’re going to treasure and show off to all your followers... the point of practicing is to train your eye to find the shapes and the shadows and the contours independently of the symbol of the thing that sits in your head, and to train your hand and your wrist and your arm to follow those instructions when you give them, and to learn how tools behave in your hand.))
4 notes ¡ View notes
kathyprior4200 ¡ 8 years ago
Text
“Royal Pain”- Miraculous Ladybug/Sky High fan fiction (incomplete)
(I do not own any of the characters. All rights belong to Disney and Zag Toons. No copyright intended.)
Chapter 1: The earthquake
Shock. That was the feeling that ran through the students and teachers at the local high school. It started out as a sunny day like any other in Paris, France. Marinette grudgingly rose out of bed with a yawn and a stretch of her arms. From outside her window, there was a spectacular view of blue sky, green trees lining the ground, and the Eiffel Tower in the distance, reaching proudly into the air. Her room was decorated in girlish colors of white and light pink, from the rugs, to her bed, to the walls, and even her computer. What stood out was a poster of her classmate and love interest Adrien. Short blond hair cropped his head and his grass green eyes were enough to make her heart melt. He wore a black shirt and a white jacket, with his right arm lifted behind his head in a model pose. She smiled and stared at the poster dreamily.
A squeaky voice came from her pink clap bag, “Good morning Marinette!” She unclasped the pouch and a small creature floated out of it. “Same to you, Tikki,” she smiled at her. Tikki had a round head, big blue eyes with eyelashes and little arms and legs. She was red with black spots like a ladybug with two thin antennae to complete the look. “Come on, you don’t want to be late for school, do you?” Marinette turned away from the poster after a moment and said, “No I guess not.” She went over to the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her short black hair. Soon, she was dressed in her usual attire: pants, a white shirt with small pink flowers on it and a dark gray jacket. Just as she was finishing pulling her hair in two ponytails, she heard her parents call her from downstairs. “Marinette, breakfast is ready!” “Coming!” she called back. Tikki smiled at her one last time before flying into the pouch once more. She reached to her left ear to touch one of her circular ladybug earrings she wore. One never knew when the world would be in danger and she would need to call on her powers.
Her mother and father were smiling at her as she made her way to the table. Her father, Tom, had a big build with dark hair and a mustache. Sabrina had short black hair, a Chinese look to her appearance, and a sweet personality. A croissant, scrambled egg, two strips of bacon, and a glass of orange juice waited for her. “Good morning Mom,” she said happily, giving her a hug. She embraced her father before sitting down to eat her breakfast. “How is work coming along?” she asked her dad. “Great so far,” he replied. “Sold several rolls and croissants at the bakery yesterday. One woman bought a handful of pastries for her child’s birthday and the look on her son’s face was the sweetest thing.” “I’m so glad,” Marinette smiled, along with her mother. She finished her morning meal and grabbed her pink backpack by the door. “Bye, Mom, bye Dad!” she called. “Goodbye sweetheart, see you soon,” said her mother. “Be sure to help me at the bakery this weekend,” said her father. “We’ll do!” said Marinette, as she went out the door.
Soon enough, she arrived at the front of the school. “Hey girl!” rang a familiar voice. “Alya!” exclaimed Marinette, waving at her friend. Alya had reddish blond hair, black glasses and wore a plaid shirt. “How’s it going?” she asked. “Same as usual,” said Marinette. “I finally completed my science paper last night; not much fun. I also came up with an idea for boots for the winter.” She reached into her backpack to take out her sketchpad. It showed a drawing of black stylish boots with sparkles on the front and sides. Fake black fur lined the top edge. “Very fancy!” replied Alya, examining the drawing. “Do you think I should put fake fur inside to help with warmth? Or maybe tone down the sparkles? Maybe I should try making one for men…” “I think it is a great idea,” mentioned Alya. “You can always test them, or go back to fix it later.” “That’s the thing about fashion design,” said Marinette, “The ideas, and stress never end.” ‘So true,” Alya added. “Guess what? I got another glimpse of Ladybug for my Ladyblog…” “Yeah…” Marinette answered nervously. Alya continued, “She them came to me for an interview and then…” “Oh, it’s Adrien!” Marinette interrupted. A black limo pulled up to the curb and out stepped Adrien. Marinette found that she could not move her feet forward. “Go on, Marinette,” said Alya, giving her a playful push. “You are brave, you got this.” “Got what?” she asked, still blushing. Alya giggled and pulled her forward. “Oh hey Marinette,” said Adrien with a small smile. “Hi Adrian, it’s nice to see you again…I mean not again, since it’s the first time today…” Alya giggled again and Adrien did not mind her stuttering. “It’s great to see you too,” replied Adrien. “Would you like to hang out sometime?” Marinette asked. At this point, her cheeks were rosy pink. “I have fencing practice this afternoon, plus homework. We could try hanging out…” “Hi Adrikins!” The high-pitched feminine voice came from Chloe, Marinette’s self-centered rival.
Chloe ran up to him and pushed Marinette out of the way. Her spectacled sidekick hastily wrote down the last answer to Chloe’s math assignment. “Hi Chloe,” said Adrien politely. “What brings you here?” “No need to get nervous around me,” she said sweetly, “Unlike some people around here…” She briefly glared at Marinette who clenched her fists. “So, do you want to go shopping this weekend, just you and me?” she asked with a flutter of her eyelashes. In the distance, Marinette stuck out her tongue in disgust. Adrien moved his head back as Chloe leaned closer. “I would…love to, Chloe, but I have…modeling to do.” “You always say that,” she mentioned. “I’ll come with you. It will be so romantic!” Marinette started to march forward, but Alya held her back with her arm. Just then, Adrien’s buddy Nino waved at him, while listening to music from his orange headphones. Clearly relieved, Adrien said, “I have to go. My friend is waiting for me.” He rushed over to him, leaving both Chloe and Marinette surprised and somewhat sad. The awkward silence was broken when Sabina tried to stifle a gasp. “Oh no…I don’t think got this problem right.” Chloe rounded on her friend, anger in her eyes. “You think that the problem isn’t right?! You were supposed to make sure that all the problems are right!” “I’m sorry, Chloe, I’m fixing it right now.” “You better! I want my weekend to be free so I can hang out with Adrien!” They continued on up the stairs, Marinette walking with Alya, upset. “It’s not fair!” growled Marinette with a stomp of her foot. “Why does she always get in the way of everything?” “It will be fine,” said Alya, putting her hand on her shoulder. “Call him after school and see if he would like to see you. I bet he would.” A small smile appeared on Marinette’s face. “Thank you, Alya.” “Anytime girl! I’ll show you my blog after class!”
Moments later, Marinette was staring out the window in her boring chemistry class. Her teacher was the main source of the mundane atmosphere, rather than the information itself. “Your projects will be due on October 4th in class,” she explained. “I expect an engaging presentation from each group and quality research papers to go with it. Mylene, no cell phones in class!” A short blond girl wearing a colorful hat, hid her phone out of sight. The teacher marched over and held out her hand. Mylene clutched her phone to her chest, not wanting to let go. “Don’t make me ask you again, Mylene. Pay attention in this class or go to the principal’s office. Rules are rules.” Sadly, Mylene slowly placed her phone in her hand and stared at the floor, sadly. “Being a dumb loser as usual, I see?” Chloe scoffed, enough for Mylene to hear. Sabrina giggled alongside her. “Shut up, Chloe,” Marinette shot back. “That’s enough,” said the teacher, a stern look on her face as usual. “Time to get back into focus. Now, reviewing the chemical compounds of oxygen, and hydrogen from yesterday, mixed with these new chemicals listed here…” Marinette drowned out the rest of the lecture.  As strange as it was to admit, she missed transforming into Ladybug with Tikki to save the city. In fact, it had been months since she and Cat Noir had fought a villain, and the last time was against a selfish Volpina, who was Lila without powers. Marinette wasn’t sure who was worse: spoiled Chloe who adored Adrien, or lying Lila who wanted to get Adrien’s attention. “I have your lab partners listed on this piece of paper I am holding. Marinette will be working with…” ‘Please not Chloe, please be Adrien, please not Chloe, please be…’ “Alya.” The teacher stated. Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Adrian like she hoped, but at least she would be working with her best friend. “Chloe will work with Sabrina…” Chloe’s face was in a pout, but she didn’t complain. Sabrina did not seem disappointed at all; she was used to doing her homework, sometimes on a daily basis. “Adrien will work with Nino, and Ivan with Mylene.” Nino and Adrien high-fived and Marinette saw Mylene and Ivan smile at each other.
The teacher stood at her desk, which displayed glass beakers and jars full of colorful liquids. She put on protective goggles and blue rubber gloves as she demonstrated the correct way to mix various chemicals together. “That is the correct way. Now doing something like this…” she opened an old bottle of perfume and hovered it over the round beaker, “…is not how it is supposed to be done. She briefly poured the contents in and added some drops of the perfume. The contents exploded with a bang, and the ground shook for several seconds. Then, just as fast as it came, it stopped. The class stared in awe and fear. Even the teacher was surprised at the impact. “Well, there you have it. Pages 15-20 reading notes are due next week and…” She was interrupted by another sudden shaking from the ground. This one started as a rumbling, but gradually seemed to get faster. It could only mean one thing…
“Earthquake!” screamed Chloe, causing the rest of the students to run around in panic. “Everyone calm down!” yelled the teacher over the noise. Ivan and Mylene were huddled together in a corner. “Everyone, get under your desks and chairs, fold your arms over your head and stay away from the windows. I will get the janitor and he will open the underground shelter behind the school.” The class did as they were told, and the teacher ran to get help. Glass beakers crashed to the floor, spilling liquid in huge glops. Oddly enough, Marinette was not terrified. She stood up and ran out the door. “Marinette, where are you going?” called Alya. “I am going to come back and help…er, get some more help! Stay there!” Marinette ran to a handrail to catch her breath.  Other students and teacher were running outside to other shelters nearby. “Come on out, Tikki,” Marinette said, after looking around to make sure no one was watching. She opened her pouch and Tikki flew out of it. “What’s going on?” she asked, sensing her owner’s distress. “I don’t know,” she answered. “This villain, whoever it is, must be close by. You know what this means? Time to transform!” Her earring miraculous briefly shone in the light before she commanded, “Tikki, spots on!” The ladybug kwami flew into her earring before Marinette transformed into Ladybug. Her outfit changed from regular clothes into a skintight red body suit decorated with black spots. A red mask appeared around her eyes after she moved her hands. A matching yo-yo was around her hips, ready to use as a weapon, or to help with movement and reaching high places. She felt a familiar rush of confidence and courage that she didn’t seem to possess in her normal state. Feeling rejuvenated, Ladybug flipped over holes in the gym floor that were not there before, and rushed outside.
Ladybug looked to the left, and then to the right. Chaos was everywhere: cars were hoisted up by chunks of cobblestone rising, tree branches fell to the sidewalk with a loud snap, people were dodging pieces of concrete, raining from some buildings. No sign of a villain. ‘Did Stoneheart get an invisible upgrade?’ thought Ladybug, thinking of the Hulk-like villain made of rocks she had fought in the past. Before she could look further, she heard yells from inside the school. She raced back up the stairs, careful not to trip over the cracks along the way. She skidded to a stop when she saw the janitor and her chemistry teacher. The woman, usually appearing emotionless and strict to her classmates, now had a look of terror on her face. She held onto the handrail as the ground shook again, as if it were a lifeline. “Ladybug! You’re here!” called the janitor. “I need to get my keys, but I can’t get to my office.” There was a gaping hole in the floor that kept the janitor from getting to his room…and it was growing wider. The door was on the ground off its hinges from the force of the earthquake. “Leave it to me,” said Ladybug. Taking out her yo-yo, she took aim and threw it inside, where it wrapped around a pole that held up a rack of cleaning supplies. She jumped and swung into the tiny office space.
Ladybug looked around the area and spotted many things; a small desk chair and a computer to the right, a closet consisting of mops, buckets, cleaning solutions, and a large sink. On the wall, hanging from silver hooks were… “The keys!” Ladybug exclaimed, running over. ‘Which ones?’ she frantically asked herself, as she looked at the different keys of many shapes and sizes. Ladybug heard a noise from above and looked up. Black cracks snaked across the ceiling, like angry tree branches. Wasting no time, she grabbed all the keys and ran back to the hole. She held the keys tightly in her hands and ran as fast as she could. Time seemed to slow down as she leaped across the hole. She landed safely on the other side and handed the keys to the janitor, before he rushed outside. Ladybug led her teacher back to the classroom, before the floor collapsed where she had stood moments before. With the superhero leading the way, the teacher regained her composure. They hurried back to the classroom, only to find that the desk had been thrown in front of the door, blocking their way. Yells and pleas for help could be heard from the classroom. Ladybug turned the doorknob as hard as she could, but the door would not budge. She tried pushing the door and kicking it, but it remained in the same place. Even worse, she did not see any of her scared classmates get up to lift the desk out of the way.
Adrien waited outside, searching for signs of a villain. He had rushed out soon after Marinette, much to Chloe’s horror. He did not see any villains anywhere, nor Marinette. What was going on? He heard a rustling sound coming from a nearby trash can and went over to investigate. The shaking of the ground made him stumble and fall, but he quickly got back up. A foul stench reached his nostrils and he plugged his nose. Floating from the trash can was another creature similar to Tikki. This one, however, looked like a black cat, with bright green eyes, a tail, black pointed ears, and three antennae protruding from his face. The rotten smell had come from a piece of Camembert cheese that the creature was eating in delight. “Plagg!” Adrien exclaimed, shocked and disgusted at the same time. “I was wondering where you were.” “For your information, I was in here enjoying my favorite food. You are missing out,” he replied without a care in the world. Adrien let out a frustrated sigh. “You are missing out on an earthquake that’s going on right now, with my classmates in danger and…” Another spine-shattering shake caused Adrien to hold on to the trash can for dear life. “We have to figure out where the villain is and get everyone to safety!” “Can I enjoy my lunch in peace first?” Plagg asked. “Not until we save everyone, buddy,” Adrian replied. “Plagg, claws out!”  “But I am safe in here…” cried Plagg as he was sucked into Adrian’s black ring that displayed a glowing green paw print. Adrien’s outfit changed into a black body suit, complete with a tail, black cat ears, and a black mask around his eyes. His silver staff weapon was by his side. The feeling of freedom and confidence spread through him like adrenaline, moving him forward back to the classroom inside.
“Hey m’lady!” he greeted, as he arrived. “Cat Noir! Thank goodness!” said Ladybug. “Glad to see you, your presence has got me shaking all over,” joked Cat Noir. Hiding a blush and a giggle, Ladybug said, “No time for puns! The class is stuck inside and the desk is blocking the way…” “Cataclysm!” shouted Cat Noir, before giving Ladybug a chance to finish. He placed his hand on the door and dark bubbling energy spread from his hand. The door and desk were engulfed in darkness, then fell away completely with a crumble. “Everyone, follow me to the shelter, hurry!” called the teacher. The students came up from the floor and hurried after their teacher, some stumbling and leaning against the handrail, or the wall for support. Mylene sang her childhood song, “Smelly Wolf” to calm herself down, much to Chloe’s annoyance. She suddenly shrieked as the floor collapsed from under her feet. Ladybug tossed her yo-yo, hoping it would catch her. Thankfully, Ladybug’s yo-yo wrapped around her arms, stopping her fall. “It’s okay, we got you,” said Ladybug. Ladybug pulled her up with the strong as steel yo-yo string and Cat Noir helped lift her to the ground, safe. Together, they quickly joined their classmates and teachers outside.
Ladybug weaved her way through the crowd of students, (not hesitating to elbow Chloe in the rib along the way) and met up with the janitor.  He was fumbling with the lock on the trapdoor, a desperate look on his face. “I tried every key that I have, and the lock is stuck. We have to get in!”  “Have you tried the other underground shelters?” Ladybug asked. “All full!” he cried. Sure enough, the other staff and students were safe down below in other shelters around the school. Ladybug wondered why she had not noticed them before. The world was falling apart around her; she was running out of time.
“Lucky charm!” cried Ladybug, throwing her yo-yo in the air. A red and black object fell into her hand. “A paperclip? What am I supposed to do with this?” “I don’t think that is for homework assignments,” said Cat Noir half-heartedly, trying to lighten the situation. In Ladybug’s mind, the paperclip and then the lock flashed red with black spots, as if leading her to a clue. “I’ve got it!” she said. She broke the paperclip so that a sharp end stuck out from the rest. She stuck the point into a hole in the lock and fiddled. “Come on, come on!” she muttered. The school was starting to crumble and many of the students ducked as bricks started to fall. “Got it!” she said triumphantly as a loud click sounded. Cat Noir and Ladybug held open the doors as the class rushed down the ramp into the dark space. Thankfully, there was just enough space for everyone to fit. “Miraculous ladybug!” cried Ladybug, throwing the paperclip into the air. It disappeared into a sea of dark pink sparkles. Ladybug breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that everything would magically be back to normal like always. Yet, the shaking continued, and the school was crumbling fast. “Get in, Ladybug!” someone yelled, awakening her from her state of utter shock. With no other choice, Ladybug followed Cat Noir in. Together, they closed the trapdoor just as the school walls crashed to the ground.
Everyone huddled close as the ground shook some more. Beeping sounds came from the superheroes’ miraculouses, signaling that they were detransforming. They went into separate corners and transformed back into their regular selves and clothes. “Better get you some food after this is over,” whispered Marinette to a tired Tikki.” “Thanks a lot, Adrien, you made me miss my happy meal,” grumbled Plagg. “Keep it down,” replied Adrien with a sigh. “Adrien, Marinette!” said Nino. “You are safe! How did you get down here?” “We followed all of you here,” replied Marinette. “Where is Ladybug and Cat Noir?” asked Ivan. “They, um,” stuttered Marinette. She moved her lit up phone and came across a hole in the wall, big enough for a person to crawl through. “They crawled through there…to check to see if any other people were outside.” “Wow, they are amazing!” said Alya. “I wish I had gotten this on my Ladyblog!” “They are so brave,” sighed Chloe. Any other conversation was drowned out by the noises of the earthquake. The ground and the walls shook some more, and several people were worried that the ceiling would collapse on them. Then, at last, an eerie silence followed.
 Chapter 2: The aftermath
“Is…is it over?” Alya asked to no one in particular in the pitch black.
“Yes, I think so,” said Nino.
“Gross! There is dirt all over my skirt and shoes. I’m blaming you, Marinette!” scoffed Chloe.
“I didn’t do anything,” Marinette replied coldly.
“Can we go home now?” whimpered Mylene.
“I can’t believe we survived that,” mentioned Ivan. “That was awesome!”
“If you mean almost getting crushed to death by debris or falling into a hole, than yeah,” remarked a gothic-like student, Violet; sarcasm in her voice.
“Will everyone please stop fighting and be patient?” asked Adrien. Everyone recognized the popular teen’s voice and became silent.
The chemistry teacher used the opportunity to turn on a flashlight. It lit up her face in a creepy way, as if she was going to tell a ghost story. Of course, that was the last thing on her mind at the moment. “All right, I want all of you to be quiet and stay here for a few more moments. The janitor and I will go up first to make sure it is safe. If so, you can call your parents and go home. The room filled with relaxed sighs. “You still have your assignments to do, do not forget.” Just like that, the positivity of the students vanished. She slowly opened the door. The bright light from the outside world was blinding, and several students closed their eyes. The teacher left the shelter, with the janitor following behind.
The space got silent again. Some students were anxious to get home to see their families. Others were scared at what damage and potential dangers lay beyond the trapdoor. Marinette squinted in the darkness. Was that Alya and Nino holding hands? ‘It would be cute if they were,’ thought Marinette. ‘Or maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me.’  “I’m hungry” moaned Nino. “I was going to eat my lunch, but I think someone threw it away!” “Oops,” said Chloe rudely, loud enough so that he could hear her. “That rotten, evil brat,” growled Marinette. “If only I could find her in the dark.”
After what seemed like an eternity, the chemistry teacher came back. “It is safe,” she said, but her face showed deep concern. One by one, the students filed out, staring at the ground as if it were made of glass and would shatter any second. Marinette squinted in the sunlight, waiting for her eyes to adjust. When her vision cleared, a horrible sight lay in front of her. What was once a proud high school, with arched windows, a clock tower in the center and a glass structure on the roof, now lay in large scattered pieces on the ground. Desks, tables, lockers and other items were knocked over. Cracks and holes littered the sidewalk and street like gaping wounds. Surprisingly, only with a few dents here and there, the Eiffel Tower nearby was still intact.
At once, several students jumped for joy and chanted, “No more school for us!” The more mature ones, however, looked on in disbelief. Police cars and ambulances arrived at the scene, checking on the students and searching for survivors among the rubble. Thankfully, no one appeared to be badly injured. Not long after, parents came in cars, trucks, and other vehicles to pick up their kids. All the teachers chattered nervously amongst themselves. “Mr. Damocles,” asked Adrien. “When will the school be back open?” “Hopefully soon once it gets fixed,” he replied, stress evident in his eyes. “It will take a while, I’m afraid.” ‘He’s right,’ thought Marinette. ‘Without school days, I won’t be able to catch up with homework! Well, at least I can spend more time with Adrian…wait, what if his father homeschools him and forbids him from seeing me? He will only see Chloe and they will fall in love, and he will forget that I exist and then…’ She slapped her hand to her forehead. “I really need to stop worrying so much.” She peaked into her pouch and saw Tikki, still exhausted. “I’ll get you some food soon,” said Marinette.
She looked up and saw Adrien. “Hey,” she said, nervously rubbing the back of her neck. “Hey,” said Adrien, not as nervous, but outgoing like he was earlier that morning. “So…are you doing alright?” “Yes, I’m fine,” said Marinette. “Same here,” he said, even though they both knew they were emotionally drained from the previous events. “Well, that was something you don’t see every day,” mentioned Marinette, referring to the earthquake. “No kidding,” he said. “I am glad that everyone is alright. I will miss all of you for a while.” “I will miss you too,” said Marinette. “Why do your parents have to be so strict?” “I don’t know,” he sighed. “It is hard to understand them, especially my father. Ever since, my mother disappeared long ago, he has not been the same.” They stepped over a large crack in the sidewalk and waited. “You are not going shopping with Chloe are you?” Marinette asked. “Good heavens no,” said Adrien with a brief grin. Marinette couldn’t help but smile herself. “Even if I wanted to, my father probably would not let me out of the house, especially after what happened. It’s not that he is over-protective, he just…wants to keep me in line when he is not busy at work.” Imagining what it may have been like for Adrien; feeling lonely, even with his popularity as a model, feeling like his father never cared about him…it was too much. She was tempted to give him a hug, but she didn’t want to make the situation more awkward than it already was. “Just so you know, I am here for you if you feel lonely. You are one of my best friends, and I am so lucky to have a cute…I mean cool friend in my life…you know just as friends.” She smiled nervously again. “I’m lucky to have you as a friend, too,” said Adrien. As they looked into each other’s eyes, the rest of the world faded away. For a moment it was just the two of them, and everything was quiet, peaceful, the sunlight illuminating each other’s faces. They leaned in, faces inches away…
“There’s my father,” he said solemnly, breaking the trance. “We will keep in touch,” said Marinette, trying to hide her disappointment. “Of course. See you around,” he said with a wink before jogging to join his family. Marinette blushed at the fact that Adrien had just flirted with her. The black limo glided smoothly on the clear areas of the road. Marinette watched as Adrien met with his father’s black-haired assistant, who gave him a nod. There was no definite reaction from his tall, blonde father, but in his face was a mixture of fear and relief that his son was alright. She would not be surprised if Adrien’s household had an elaborate underground basement with bunkers and survival items in case of an apocalypse. Adrien and his family got in the limo. Adrien smiled apologetically at Marinette through the window before the limo drove out of sight. A dreadful thought crept to her head that turned to panic. ‘My parents!’ thought Marinette. ‘I better go see if they are alright!’ With her backpack still on her back, Marinette made her way back home.
Anxiety spread through her veins as she walked along the street. Usually around this time, people would be hustling and bustling around the city. Fashionistas would show off their colorful outfits, shopkeepers would sell their latest products and dogs would happily walk alongside their owners. Now, however, the place was deserted, save for families tending to their children, handymen and women already at work, planning on how to repair the streets, windows, and buildings. At last, Marinette saw the familiar white building with a bakery in the front that was her home. Thankfully, there was little damage, but her heart dropped when she saw a gap in the bakery store window. She rushed inside into the living room.
Books, picture frames and other items were scattered on the floor and several dents had damaged the wooden floor. Marinette’s mother was busy picking up the objects that had fallen and rearranging the furniture. “Marinette, sweetheart, thank goodness!” she exclaimed as they rushed in for a hug. “It was pretty scary,” said Marinette, “but thankfully, there were shelters that I helped…the teachers help lead the students to. It will take a while for the school to be repaired, though. And I still have homework to do!” “Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” said her mother. “At least you are safe now.” Marinette quickly got to work, helping with strengthening up the room. “If only you were this dedicated when it comes to cleaning your room,” mentioned her mother. “Mom,” she groaned, rolling her eyes like the adolescent she was. “How is Dad?” Marinette asked. Her mother looked concerned. Marinette looked around. “He’s not…” “No, he is alive,” said her mother, followed by a sigh of relief from Marinette. They walked into the bakery and Marinette could tell that this was the area that took the most damage. Along with the gap in the window, pastries of all kinds were sprawled on the floor, flour coated wooden surfaces like frost. Her father was resting on a chair in the corner. “Dad!” exclaimed Marinette. “Marinette, you’re alright!” Marinette hugged him and he winced in pain. “Are you alright?” she asked, pulling back. She looked at his left ankle which was in a cast. “I twisted it when I tripped over a crack in the floor.” Marinette could see the dangerous crack he was talking about. “After ducking under the table, trying to get away from all the glass, you mother rushed in and helped me move to a safer spot in the living room.” “It could have been much worse,” mentioned her mother. ‘No kidding’ thought Marinette. Her father looked around the place with stress in his face and demeanor.
“I am afraid that it will take several days of repair to get this place running again. I hope that we can make more fine desserts to lift the spirits of our customers.”
“I’m sure we can,” Marinette said with hope in her voice, putting a hand on her father’s shoulder.
“Marinette told me that her school was damaged by the earthquake and that it would take a while to get it repaired as well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Marinette,” he said.
“And I still have homework to do too!” she groaned.
“You will be fine,” said her mother. “We all will. All we have to do is work together and get through this. That’s what families are for.”
“Yes, you’re right.” Marinette added, feeling comforted by the presence of those she loved.
Over the next several days, Marinette was busy at work, rearranging the bakery, guiding her father from sofa to chair and back again, and cleaning the rooms with her mother, (except her bedroom, of course.) Not long after, the bakery was back in business, this time with Marinette and her mother taking customer’s orders. “I’ll have deux croissants, and a clafoutis, s’il vous plait.” “Coming right up!” said Marinette. She carefully pulled out the crescent shaped rolls from the oven and wrapped them up. The cake piece with berries baked inside came soon after. “Merci, Marinette!” the woman beamed, before giving her money and leaving. Marinette’s father looked on from his chair, his foot now in a boot. The pain did not stop the warm feeling he felt, watching his daughter grow up. “I’m so proud of you. Marinette.”
Doing her homework was the hard part. Somewhat traumatized by the earthquake, her friends and classmates had kept to themselves, either lost in their lives, or fear of another disaster. The longer she worked on her chemistry research, the less motivated she felt. Pulling out her notepad, Marinette began sketching more ideas for clothing and hats. Hours later, wads of paper were piled up in the trash, and a tired Marinette lay on her bed. The feeling of shock during the earthquake was long gone, but boredom had taken its place. Most of all, Marinette felt lonely. It settled in her stomach like a hunger that she could not fill. She stared at her poster of Adrien again. ‘I wish we could see each other again.’  Several times, she checked her phone to see if Alya wanted to work on her project, but there was no reply.
“Is everything alright, Marinette?” The voice came from Tikki, who had been fed enough food several days ago. “Yeah, I guess,” Marinette answered, staring at the ceiling.
“You still have plenty of time to get your homework done, even without Alya. Maybe you can get a head start.”
“I would if I were more motivated,” said Marinette. “And if the subject were more interesting.”
“I’m sure you can figure something out,” said Tikki.
“I just want life to go back to what it was before. I miss seeing all my friends, I miss becoming Ladybug, I miss…Alya and Adrien.”
“Wait a second!” Marinette said, sitting up. “Why didn’t the Miraculous Ladybug work and repair everything? It always works after I do my lucky charm.” “I don’t know,” replied Tikki. “You are not sick, are you?” Marinette asked.
“No, of course not. I have lived for thousands of years, and the charm always works. Maybe because it only works if you are fighting villains and not natural disasters.”
Marinette sighed. “Well, at least everyone is safe now. Hopefully, I won’t have to worry about any more villains or disasters for a while.” “How am I supposed to further my education without going to school?” she asked. “The school should be open in a few months, Marinette. Just be patient.” After a moment, Marinette slumped in defeat.  
“You’re right. I have to get through this. If only I could become Ladybug again and maybe go to school…wait…”
With an idea forming in her head, Marinette rushed back to her laptop and started typing. “What are you doing?” asked Tikki, now curious.
“What if I don’t have to miss out on anything? I could learn more things, while also being Ladybug!”
“So…are you saying…” Tikki asked confused.
“I could go to a secret superhero school!” Marinette exclaimed with excitement.
Tikki looked stunned. “But Marinette, you already do fine, fighting villains on your own, plus you are a great student!”
“Yes I know, but I could help save the world again and be better prepared. Plus, Cat Noir could decide to go there!”
“Your parents still need your help,” Tikki countered. “They would never let you go to another school by yourself!”
Moments later, in the living room, Marinette explained her idea, obviously leaving out the superhero part. “That’s sounds like a great idea,” said her mother. “Going to a nearby school as a transfer might help you get caught up.” “We still need as much of your help as possible,” added her father. “My foot is getting better, but an extra helping hand would not hurt.” “No problem!” Marinette stated. “Do you need any help signing up?” asked her mother. “Which school do you plan on transferring to?” “I’m still looking,” Marinette said. “Okay, just let us know if you need any help,” said her father. “We’ll do!” Marinette called as she went back upstairs to her room. Tikki floated out of the pouch again. “Well that worked out better than I thought it would,” she said. “Come on, let’s go school searching!” beamed Marinette.
In a white, gated mansion, across from the Eiffel tower, Adrien sat on a white couch in his room, throwing a basketball in the air and catching it. A rock climbing station stood next to a library on the second floor. A Foosball table, an arcade station, skateboard ramps, and a basketball hoop were also present. Fencing banners and trophies decorated the room. Here, Adrien had everything a teenage boy could dream of…yet he could not have been more miserable. Now that Adrien was off from school, waiting for it to be repaired, he went back to his daily schedule his mother gave him. One could imagine the most mundane lecture in school, and it would not compare to the lessons his father gave him. The Agreste mansion, seemingly pleasant to visitor’s eyes, felt like a cage to Adrien, albeit a comfortable one.
At this moment, his ‘lessons’ were over and now he had free time to himself. He placed the basketball down and walked over to the window. The sky was now cloudy, with shades of white and dark gray. The leaves blowing in the wind hinted at autumn around the corner. Adrien closed his eyes, as if opening them would make his friends and loved ones appear.
He and Chole were still close childhood friends. He almost regretted not going shopping with her during the weekend. Then again, the earthquake had disrupted the normal routines of everyone who had witnessed it. Chole was also very clingy towards him; something he was glad he did not have to deal with at the moment.
Nino was fun to hang out with, as usual; he wished he could hang out with him more. If anything, he was the closest guy friend Adrien had. Adrien wondered if he would mix a track about the earthquake once school got back in session.
Marinette and Ladybug. He was starting to miss them, especially Ladybug. Once again, he had flirted with her in front of the blocked classroom, and was pleased that he had managed to make her blush. While he had cleared the path, Ladybug helped out the rest of the way. Thankfully, he was able to transform in the shelter just before time had run out. He looked for Ladybug afterwards, but she was nowhere to be found. Then there was that moment when they were waiting for his parents to pick him up. Marinette had comforted Adrien about life with his parents, and he had appreciated the genuine act. As pretty as Marinette’s blue eyes were when he stared into them, it was awkward at the same time. If both of them were in a trance at that time, Marinette was deeper into it. Certainly, they were best friends, but…did Marinette have other feelings for Adrien?
Last, he thought of his mother. He still remembered the beautiful blonde hair, he pointed chin and her bright green eyes. She never would have disappeared for no reason. He missed her very much; even more, he longed to have a closer relationship with his father. Yet, with her gone, he could not see the distance between him and his father closing anytime soon.
“Why so bored?!” yelled a black blur that suddenly appeared in his vision. Adrien yelped and stepped back. His wide eyes narrowed when he saw Plagg floating in the air, laughing his giant head off. “Plagg, for the love of Paris, stop scaring me like that!” Plagg loved to play pranks on Adrien. “Hey, I was bored too! What else am I supposed to do?” Adrien sighed. “I don’t know, go eat your smelly cheese somewhere?” “I already had some,” he remarked, patting his belly. “Though that does sound like a good idea.” Adrien rolled his eyes. “I’m going to my room. I can’t take this anymore.” After watching some fencing matches on his laptop later on, Adrien was still as bored as he was before. “Hm” he thought out loud. “I wonder if there are any schools for superheroes around? I would love to spot Ladybug at one of them.” “Who needs more boring homework?” Plagg asked with a yawn. “We have everything we need right here!” He spread out his little arms, referring to Adrien’s home. “Maybe you do,” answered Adrien, “but right now, I want to see if there is a way to climb out of this boring hole.” “You know, I could just fly out of it,” Plagg remarked. Adrien ignored him and began his online search.
�|�+�H
4 notes ¡ View notes