#i got art block and a cold in the same week

[taytrashmouth]

Meet me in the pouring rain

Harry James potter x fem reader.

Inspired by this pin: https://pin.it/2JlvuwrlR

It was your fifth year at Hogwarts, and you were always sort of alone. You had friends but they were never close. You were one of those in between people in school. Those people your classmates will remember in 10 years but won’t know anything about you.

Today was a cold day and despite that, the common room was far too busy to be reading in. And so you sat on the bleachers while the quidditch practice was happening below, to finally read your book in peace.

You could vaguely hear Harry shout instructions every now and again. Harry Potter was possibly one of your favourite people, simply because he was always nice to you.

He would lend you pens in class or explain something in defence against the dark arts. He check in on you at least once a week. He gave you his scarf at hogsmeade once because he said you looked cold.

And despite his fame, he kept to himself. What you didn’t notice was the subtle glances he kept sending you, the smile on his face when you wore his scarf. The stolen touches when teaching you how to get the correct brew.

Your nose was deep into the book you were reading you didn’t even notice Harry watching you from his broom.

In fact in was halfway through practice already when you finally looked up from the pages. And it was only because it had started to rain and your book was going to get wet.

You tucked your book into your coat and awkwardly ran down the stairs of the tent to run back to the castle…which was ages away.

“I’ll be right back” Harry told his team, squinting through the rain. He angled his broom downwards and zoomed through the entrance to the stadium, grabbing an umbrella in the process.

He quickly caught up to you on his broom and held the umbrella above you from his seat in the sky.

You looked up in confusion to see the boy on his broom above you sheltering from the rain.

You smiled. “Thank you Harry.”

Even those three basic words were enough to make him blush.

He put a hand by his eyebrows in attempt to block the water from his glasses.

He flew beside you as you walked, keeping you dry.

“What are you doing out at the quidditch field?” Harry asked.

“Trying to find a quiet place to read.” You replied blankly, still holding the book to your chest in attempt to save the pages.

Harry looked like he wanted to say something but he didn’t.

“What?” I asked.

“I know a place, by the lake…it’s quiet there. I can show you if you’d like…maybe you could read to me.” He stuttered.

I smiled. He was bright red and so was I.

“That- that would be nice.”

He smiled back and then to the floor. “That’s- good. Good that’s good.”

“I wouldn’t mind watching you practice though…” I spoke up, testing the water. Maybe Harry liked me….

He looked a bit shocked. “I’d like that. Great,” he smiled even wider.

When we arrived at the castle he hopped of his broom.

“Meet me here, noon, Tomorrow.” He said moving closer. “Bring a book,”

I blushed. And nodded.

He gave me a hug and said goodbye.

That same evening I was woken up by something I couldn’t see. That was until Harry took of his invisibility cloak

“Harry! What are you doing here?” I whisper, trying to open my eyes all the way, still half-asleep.

“I want to show you something.” He said.

“I’m in pyjamas.” I say, not that impressed with his timing. He seems to brush this off and shows me his pyjama pants.

I drag myself out of bed and follow him with my book in hand as per usual. Trying to fix my hair.

He leads me up a lot of stairs, hogwarts still feels so homey without the people all over the halls. Despite my asking he’s insisting it’s a surprise.

We reach the astronomy tower and he’s got the roof open and has placed down a blanket with cups of tea next to it.

I look up at him, feeling so special. He was so sweet. “Harry…this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” I tell him and lean closer on my toes to kiss his cheek gently, brushing his other cheek with my hand.

“I-I couldn’t wait, to see you…I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” He stutters, blushing like a mess.

I smile wider as we sit on the blanket and lie down looking at the stars. I’ve never seen them so bright.

Harry pretends to yawn to put his arm around my shoulders, I smile at how cheesy it is. It was kind of cute though.

I cuddle next to him and rest my head on his chest. I can almost hear his smile.

He takes my hand in his and immediately leans on his elbows.

“You’re freezing.” He lets out.

“I’m alright, really.” I tell him but it’s too late he’s already out of his quidditch jumper and handing it to me.

“Thank you.” I say softly and put it on.

We lean back to our original position.

“I like you a lot y/n.” He says, not nervous sounding anymore.

“I like you a lot too Harry. All of this means so much to me.” I reply and smile at him, lying on my side.

He sits up a little too and I don’t know who moved closer first but soon enough his lips were on mine and his hands were on my frostbitten cheeks. I placed a hand in his hair, almost wanting to pull him closer.

When the kiss finally broke we both just smiled, with a breathy laugh.

We watched the stars for hours until the sun began to rise.

“Read to me.” Harry whispered in my ear, stroking his fingers through my hair.

And I did, and he held onto every word.

[hellsburners]

yellow sunrise

summary: you and peter take things to the next step. pairing: teacher!peter parker x librarian!male reader word count: 2.8k warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, eventual smut, protected sex, top!peter, bottom!reader, tears were shed you guest how, peter is a good boyfriend..kinda? a/n: part 2 to orange juice^^

masterlist | more peter parker

The past few weeks have been very good. Peter would occasionally visit you in the library with packed lunch, you tried to do the same but cooking was never really your strong suit. You would spend lunches eating together at the library talking about stuff going around the school, Mayday, and the library. He also took you to a new science museum in Brooklyn, the two of you stood in awe as you saw new advances in science and technology.

Mrs. Diaz, the head librarian, took note of your good performance for the past months and has said that she will give a good word for your promotion. You and Peter went out on a drink that night to celebrate. You have also stayed in touch with Mayday, the three of you would watch movies together, go to parks, and it was like you were bing included in their small family.

On the way home from work, you were carrying an Ikea bag full of art materials since the library department settled on joining in with halloween decorations. You planned on cutting up colored paper into some decor. It was cold tonight, so cold that you zipped your jacket over your two seaters as you went to a bodega to grab a sandwich for dinner. The old man in the cashier took your order and you gave him 6 dollars in return. The heavy blue bag sinking into your skin makes it hurt a little. A small TV, like the box ones with antenna, near the cash register was playing the news. 

BREAKING NEWS: Multiple assailants attack a bank in Queens. The villains known as The Sinister Six attacked a local bank seeking the presence of the web-slinging hero, Spider-man. The assailants are identified by their aliases, Boomerang, Beetle, Shocker, Overdrive, and Speed Demon. Four hostages were seen in the premises but a final number has not been confirmed.

The old man gave you the sandwich and you went hurrying to your next block. A few corners from the bodega you saw smoke billowing in the street corner to your place. The beetle flying with her pink wings as Spider-man came swinging after her. A crowd of people surrounded the bank, police on hold to barricade them. You knew how dangerous this was but you’ve never seen Spider-man in person, and there he was.

Spider-man was wounded by sharp boomerangs that flew across the sky. There were five villains against one Spider-man. You saw the hostages leave the bank from Spider-man distracting the criminal, some were wounded and coughing from the smoke. Your mind went to Peter, is he safe? You tried to dial for his number but no one answered. Spider-man took the Sinister Six one by one, the crowd cheered for him. 

With worry dragging on your foot you hurried home. You kept on dialing for Peter’s phone, still no answer. In your peripheral you could see a shadow creeping up behind you. You tried to walk faster but the man’s hand was already on your shoulder. “Nice phone you got there kiddo,” the masked man said. Your heart raced, he was holding a short kitchen knife. “Come on now, give it away or else I’ll hurt ‘ya!” the man swung his knife at you but you quickly fell back. You ran yelling for help as he stood up to run after you.  

“You know, I was on my way home from the bank earlier but I heard some yelling and then I see you Bernard,” the man perched in a streetlamp yelled. A masked man in red and blue, Spider-man. He flicked his wrists and webs stuck to the thief’s arms binding them together. He swung down and bound the thief’s legs too. He wrapped him in webs and stuck him to the pole. Spider-man picked your phone from the man’s pocket and gave it to you. 

“You saved my life,” you said.

“Yeah, just your friendly neighborhood Spider-man,” You couldn’t help but stand in awe. “By the way, this street gets a little dark at night, prone to pickpockets so I suggest you go through the other street it's safer.” 

You were speechless in his presence but you managed to utter another thank you. Spider-man made sure the man was stuck to the pole and swung again. You rushed to your apartment, no more stops, you promised. Your phone rang the moment you got inside, it was Peter. 

“Peter! Oh my god I was so worried, are you okay?” you put your stuff down, unzipping your jacket afterwards. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I couldn’t pick up your phone. I was doing some laundry,” you let out a sigh of relief. “How about you, are you okay? I saw the news.”

“Well, I almost got robbed. But Spider-man saved my life!” you could hear sirens outside your winds and in Peter’s, his being a bit louder. “Are you outside?”

“Oh, I just got in. Have you eaten?” he said, diverting the topic. Your eyes glanced at the paper bag in your bag, the contents flattened, some sauce leaking through the paper.

“Well, my sandwich got smushed so I’ll try to salvage what's left of it.” he laughs.

“I’m gonna call you later, I promised Mayday I’ll let her show me her new drawings from art class,” you felt relieved knowing he gets to talk to her. Whenever Mayday is even mentioned in conversation a weight would leave his shoulders.

✎𓇢𓆸

You snuggled up in bed wearing a worn out shirt and gym shorts. You were reading a book, your eyes weighing in as you turn a new page. Your phone rings, Peter was a man of his word. You pick up the phone, Peter says he was just getting into bed as well. He groans as you hear him get down in the soft cotton sheets. 

“Sorry, did I bother you?” he said. You assured that he didn’t since you love hearing his voice, especially before sleep. It was comforting. “So, how was this Spider-man? Did you finally feel like you met the man of your dreams?” he says jokingly. 

“We actually kissed as he went down on his webs. It was very romantic,” you retort.

“Is that so?” he says, his brows raised. He was being playful. “That's all you did? Next time let me watch.”

“Okay, you voyeur,” you chuckle. “Snooping around me and Spider-man.” you gave him a bossy tone. You both laugh from the sheer childishness of your conversation. 

“You know what I want?” his voice lowers to a gravelly hoarse whisper, like a morning voice. “I want whatever Spider-man is having.” You giggled. Peter and you have been tip-toeing on taking things to the next level. You’ve made out before, gotten to some touching, once you even straddled him while making out, but nothing more than that. Peter would always seem to restrain himself. 

“You want to get hurt too? Didn’t know you had that side in you, Parker,” you hear Peter groan as he changes positions in bed. 

“Would you,” Peter muttered, his voice was shaky, like he was just caught in a lie. Blood rushed through your veins. Whatever scared Peter scared you too. “Would you want to stay with me tomorrow night? I don’t know, I felt like it was time.”

Oh.

He went there, you thought. You weren’t in a rush, in a way you felt scared that doing this would change the dynamic you two had. From being flirty coworkers to something more serious. You bit your lip, thinking about the words that came out of Peter’s mouth. “No pressure of course. I’ll move at whatever pace is most comfortable for the both of us.” he said with a voice that you felt was his sincerest. 

“I’d love to. I’m excited actually,” Peter was shocked with your answer, he said he was happy and would make sure you were comfortable. 

✎𓇢𓆸

Peter told you to come by his apartment by 9pm since the faculty had its quarterly meeting and would probably finish late. He also said that you should wait for his text before you came, so as not to spoil the surprise, whatever that meant. So you sat on your couch, dressed for the occasion. You made sure everything was good, you looked presentable, showered, flossed and brushed your teeth, you even used your more expensive perfume a friend gave you for your birthday. You looked at the clock ticking and moving its hand at you.

For what felt like forever the clock went from 6pm to 7pm.

And then 8pm.

Then 9pm.

Then it was 11:30pm. No text. No call. Nothing.

You started to feel shame, like someone had undressed you in public, or took away your shoelaces and tied them up together. It was embarrassing, you felt like this was bound to happen. That Peter was bound to disappoint you somehow. That giddy feeling was temporary and it was pulled under you like a rug, hitting your ass on the hardwood floor like an idiot.

Thud!

You went on your feet to check the loud sound that hit your window. You took a kitchen knife and slowly crept your way to the window. The window was open, the wind blowing on the curtains hiding the shadowy figure creeping on you. You heard the figure groan. You slowly saw the man come in. Clad in blue and red spandex, the lean man entered your home. He was unmasked, a man in his 30’s with a slight stubble, his brown hair a tousled mess.

“Peter?”

He looked at you with his large brown eyes. His face had a light cut on his cheek. His gait was weak the way he walked towards you. You couldn’t fathom whatever was in front of you. Your chest heaves from thinking. How long has he been doing this? Is that why—

“Hey, I know what you think,” he gestures for you to calm down. 

“You have no idea of what I’m thinking about right now.”

“Just put the knife down and we can talk. Can we talk?” the both of you sat down on your small dining set, your chairs parallel one another. “I’m sorry I was late and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You made the calculations in your head, Spider-man has been a hero of the city for 17 years. Peter has been doing this for that long? You stared at him speechless. He looked at you with the same sad puppy eyes he would always do, his brows raised and furrowed, his bottom lip protruded a bit, his shoulders relaxed. “I didn’t want to risk your safety.”

“But why show me now?”

“Well, to be honest, I think I got hit pretty well so I couldn’t swing back home.” he smiled. “But most importantly I wanted you to know. So you have the option to stay or to go.”

“Why would I do that?” you said, your arms crossed, your brows furrowed with confusion. Peter looked down on his hands on the table. You could see tears forming under his eyelashes. “Why would you make me choose?” You stood up and took his hands, you held them in your palms, warm and calloused. He looked up at you. You take your thumb and wipe his tears. “I choose to say Pete, because I want to. You’ve been this city’s hero for years. And I’ve looked up to you most of my life. I know you’re capable of protecting the people of this city, but I want to be here to support you. Be the guy who takes care of Spider-man when he’s hurt and to make the man underneath the mask feel loved.”

Peter stood up, his body towering over you. He placed his hands on each side of your face, bending down to place his lips on yours. It was a tender kiss, tears falling from Peter’s face. You bring him to your bedroom, his arms wrapped around your waist. His gloved hands occasionally peered under the hem of your shirt touching bare skin. He tries to grab the zipper on his nape, he struggles a bit, the two of you laughing. You helped him unzip the suit. Your eyes wandered through the landscape of his back, wide and muscular, yet it also showed who he was when the city called. Scars left and right, some new, some old, and yellowish bruises around his ribs.

Peter, now only wearing his black boxers, sat down on the bed with you standing in between his thighs. He peppered your neck with kisses. He started to pull on the hem of your shirt, lifting it above your head. Your shorts and underwear came after. With his hands now placed on the back of your thighs, he gestures for you to straddle him. Doing as you’re told he starts to caress your ass, his large hands hugging them fully. 

Peter pulls you back, his back on the bed while you towered on top of him. Your arms both at the side of his head supporting your weight. You could feel Peter’s erection stirring inside his underwear, you rub yourself on the hardness, his eyes fall back as he curses. “You’re unfair,” you said, pointing your eyes at his underwear. Peter smirked, pulling his underwear until it was at his ankles.

You started to stroke his cock while leaving kisses on his neck, your room filled with the sound of grunts and moans. You go down to your knees at the edge of the bed. You take his cock inside your mouth, you hadn’t realized it was the mouthful. Saliva coats his hardness while it goes in and out your mouth. Peter sits on the edge of the bed, his hands running through your hair. 

“Fuck, you’re so good.” Peter moans.

“Language Mr. Parker,” you jokingly said before continuing your task. Peter’s noises began to become louder, the grip he had on your hair became tighter. He taps your shoulder, his chest heaving, you ease down releasing his wet cock. The head throbbing and red, white liquid already forming at the tip. 

“Do you have condoms?” Peter asked. You stood up to take the condoms and the bottle of lube in your nightstand. Peter takes your hand and brings you to the bed, your positions now reversed, with your back to the bed while his body towers over you. He kisses you once more before he puts the condom on his dick, stroking it with a palm full of lube. 

“You ready?” he whispered to your ear. You nod, he puts a lubed finger to your hole, preparing you for his erection. With a slow thrust of his hip he sheathes himself inside you. You both let out a loud groan. You take him to you, kissing him more to ease some of the sting. After your body has acclimated to the pressure, Peter starts to push his cock in and out of you, the pressure begins to turn into pleasure, your eyes welling with tears. Peter starts to suck on the skin on your neck, not enough to mark but enough to make you a whimpering mess under him. Peter’s hands find yours, your fingers intertwined as he places them beside you. His thrusts were deep, the strokes long, you felt so full of him, his body, his scent, his essence. Your body surged with pleasure. 

He starts to stroke your cock, your arms now wrapped around his neck. Your mouths become slopier by the second. You tell him you were close, he tells you the same. With his thrusts becoming more erratic your muscles clench making your hole tighter. Peter groaned from the sudden tightness. Your arms wrapped tighter on his neck, his face on your ear letting out profanities. At the moment your moans, his hip and yours, gave out the same rhythm. The pleasure fills you up with intensity. The two of you at the same time called out for each other’s name as you climaxed. 

✎𓇢𓆸

You woke up from the scorching heat of the sun on your bare skin, the room filled with yellow light. The window was open and Peter was gone. You stood up to take your shirt and your shorts, stretching your neck before getting a glass of water. In the dining table you saw a paper folded into a flower with a note next to it.

Had to go do something, duty calls (also because I stink). I didn't want to wake you because you looked so peaceful,but I will see you later I promise. Thoughts on swinging around town with me? It’ll be fun I promise! I had a great night by the way. I love you.

-Peter. 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[autumnsorbet]

Forgot I did these last months I thought I had posted them but I Didn't

Art block redesigns

V5

V8

Redraws from when I had art block a few times last month this one's from v5

I had fun making Yang's I think she look amazing in black it help her hair stand out morei gave Weiss a look that's a bit similar to what her outfit is in volume seven I wish they had hinted at something like that in volume 6

🟠

or maybe they gave weiss a new outfit while they were traveling, I also try to add all her teams colors to her outfit I also gave her some hair swords instead of just giving her that tiara I had her put

🟢

actual little dagger swords in her hair that she could use in an emergency if she lost her weapon to still fight with they don't shoot us but she could still try to attack someone with them or still summon if need be cuz I think she needs her weapon to summon it's not really clear,

🔴

I think well Oscar / Oz was at the house he could have dressed a bit more comfortably yeah I know this outfit I put him in isn't comfortable this outfit is actually from a manga I xxxholic and I just wanted to see how Oscar looked in it I actually like how it turned out I just changed some things on it and the colors

🟡

I also had the idea that maybe if Rwby could they would like have the characters change their outfits like every 3 days or so so you won't just leave them in the same outfit I know models are expensive but I wish they could do like some shows have done and have them in different outfits even if it's just two or three different outfits for different occasions and things besides pajamas like they did in volume 7

🔴🟡🟠

For the V8 redraw I put Oscar in a different outfit I think he should have gotten an outfit change at the end of volume eight instead of them just fixing up his same outfit like did he have a spare outfit somewhere that they had or did someone make him a new outfit or just clean his outfit that he had on often fix his jacket somehow 😅

🟡

And then what is still funny to me because in that same episode and even The following episode his model was really off for some reason I wish they had just given him a different outfit I know the outfit I put him in looks like it's all over the place but I still think this is a good design and look especially like what I did with his hair

🟣

I also like the outfit I put Blake in I think if they were going to put her in like a cat suit I wish they had put her in like a cat food snow jumper, I don't know why they've been putting her in white lately I wish they put her in purple or black more so I gave her a purple outfit with dark purple boots and one of those headband scarf things she also has a hood in case she gets trapped out in the cold and her Aura is low and she can cover her ears on her head

🟢🔵🟡

This was something I had to fun doing especially when I had art block which comes on every other week like week before last I was drawing a lot of stuff and it was so fun and I was actually making progress with some work that I wanted to put aside but I managed to get it done and all of last week all I had was art block mostly and I think I only got two pictures done hopefully I can get more done this week

[raccoonhearteyes]

Part I  | Part II  | Part III | Part IV  | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

October 14th, 2018. 

I love you, Clarke.

Clarke hits play on the voicemail again. I love you, Clarke. I love you, Clarke. I love you, Clarke.

Clarke tried calling the number back. She got a dial tone and an automated message that said “The number you are trying to reach is not accepting calls.” She tried to trace it but it only led to a payphone a few blocks from her apartment. 

If it hadn’t said her name, she could pretend it was a wrong number. If it hadn’t spoken about her art, and her heart as if she’d known them, she could imagine it was a prank. But the details of that voicemail, the tenderness in the caller's voice, Clarke has to believe it’s real. But who? Clarke hasn’t dated anyone. She knows her friends’ and her exes’ voices well enough to know it’s none of theirs. 

She listens again. I love you, Clarke. The voice seems familiar, but she can’t place it. It’s been two weeks since she woke up to this voicemail and she’s no closer to finding the girl. She thought she heard the voice in her coffee shop last week, but lost it again once she turned to find her.

It’s a cold and rainy Sunday. Clarke wants everything the voicemail promises. She wants french toast and couch snuggles. She wants to be loved the way the girl in the voicemail loves her. Why doesn't she know this girl? Why does she only remember a cheating heartbreak and a first date who belittled her work? 

She’s sad and confused and just wants to snuggle up and avoid everyone, but she’s in desperate need of groceries, so she forces herself to get up and get dressed. Her mood sours even more when she can’t find her favorite sweatshirt. It’s a purple hoodie she got her freshman year. Emerson emblazoned on the front. It’s comfy and warm and a little old with a hole worn in the wrist, but Clarke loves that sweater. She keeps it in the back of her closet for days just like this, but today it’s not there.  

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

Clarke shoves her way onto a crowded subway car, arms full of grocery bags. There’s nowhere to sit, her umbrella is inside out and three blocks away, and this day cannot possibly get any worse. She unceremoniously drops her bags between her feet and reaches up to grab the rail above her when some purple catches her eye. 

The girl seated on the chair in front of her is beautiful. She has chestnut brown hair tied neatly in a braid, and she’s focused on a book in her hands. 

“You’re wearing my sweater.” 

The girl looks startled, peers up from her book, and Clarke catches the barest hint of a smile before she says “Excuse me?” 

Clarke hears the voice and there’s something familiar about it. The earth shifts beneath her feet, everything a bit off kilter after she hears this girl speak, but she ignores the feeling and blames it on the bumpy subway ride. 

“I have the same sweater. It’s my favorite, but I couldn’t find it in my closet this morning.”

“So you think I stole it?” the girl asks, clearly amused. 

“I must sound insane.”

“A little bit.” 

“You didn’t steal my sweater. Obviously. Probably… Besides, mine had a hole in the left wrist,” Clarke glances down to see a thumb poking through a hole in the wrist, “and a green paint stain in the hood,” her eyes trail up the arm of the sweater in search of the stain, which she finds. Clarke stops talking, suddenly confused. Is that her sweater? How does this girl have it? Did she accidentally donate it when she cleared out her closet over the summer? 

The girl gives her a curious smile, then turns back to her book. Clarke watches her just as curiously as the subway bumps along to her stop. Her eyes are so green. The slope of her neck is elegant. Long fingers flipping through pages. Clarke has a sudden urge to draw her. 

The train screeches to a halt at her stop and Clarke bends over to grab her groceries. The paper bag soaked through from the rain and one of them rips a huge hole in the bottom as she lifts it. Her groceries slide to the floor and start rolling  underneath chairs and feet. 

She might be about to cry. Nothing about today is going the way she wanted it to. She’s wet, sad, and so done. But her sweater thief is on her hands and knees before Clarke has time to lose it in this subway car. All of Clarke's animosity for her stolen sweater melts into gratitude as she watches this stranger methodically gather items and look at her with soft eyes. She fills her backpack with Clarke’s spilled groceries. “Crisis averted,” she says and gestures for her to lead them out of the station. 

“Thank you. I think I might have had a meltdown in there if you hadn’t knight-in-shining-armored me.”

“No problem.”

“I can try and fit those all in this bag instead.” 

“It’s okay, I’ve got them. I’ll walk you home?” She says it as a question, giving Clarke the chance to turn her down. But for some reason Clarke trusts this stranger. Normally she’s quick to pepper spray any weirdo on the train that breathes too close to her, but this girl feels familiar for some reason Clarke can’t quite put her finger on. Maybe it’s the sweater. 

“I’m only a block away.” 

“It’s the least I can do for stealing your sweater,” the girl smirks, a mischievous glint in her eye. She looks so smug and pleased with herself for her joke that Clarke just wants to wipe it off her face. She almost does with a kiss before she catches herself and wonders what came over her. Who does that? Why did that urge feel like muscle memory? 

Clarke narrows her eyes instead. “Just let me be the crazy lady on the subway, okay? It’s been a rough day.” 

The two emerge from the subway station to be met with a torrential downpour. While Clarke only lives a block away, they are absolutely drenched by the time they make it to her doorstep. The girl starts to unload her backpack when Clarke stops her, “Come in. I’ll make you some tea and give you some time to dry off and wait out the storm. It’s the least I can do for the girl who saved me from ending up a viral sensation as ‘lady has a meltdown on the subway’”

They shuffle into the entrance of Clarke’s apartment, toeing of boots, shucking off soaked layers. Clarke offers a towel to the shivering girl in her doorway, who happily accepts it. She then moves off to the kitchen to start the kettle. 

She pulls a wide white mug with a sheep hidden in the inside and a tall blue one with a whale painted on the side from her mug collection. “Spring or fall?” She asks, even though neither mug has anything to do with either of them. 

The girl says, “Fall,” and Clake pours hot water over the teabag in the sheep mug and pushes it towards her. She keeps the whale mug for herself and oh they’re standing much closer than Clarke realized. Close enough that she can see the vibrant green of her hero’s eyes. 

“Your eyes are like a forest,” and suddenly she’s hit with a wave of familiarity. Has she said that already?

The girl looks down, wraps her hands around her mug and takes a long sip, then lets out a contented sigh.

Clarke flashes a brilliant grin, “Good, right? The secret is--”

“Cinnamon,” the girl finishes, immediately flushing a pretty pink.

“Yeah, actually… have you had it before?”

She shakes her head. “Just recognized the flavor.” But for some reason Clarke doesn’t find it all that believable. She takes another moment to watch her stranger. Has she--?  

“Sorry, I realized I never asked your name.”

“Anna.” 

Clarke nods, leaning over the counter and slouching into her tea as if it could regenerate her. 

“You look like a wilted flower,” Anna teases. 

“Water me and watch me bloom,” Clarke responds with a wink. 

“I think the rain already took care of that one for me. Not how I usually like to get girls wet, but…” her voice starts to fade, and a deep laugh erupts from Clarke’s chest. Maybe this day isn’t so bad after all. 

----------

Clarke peers out the window after they’ve finished their tea. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop raining any time soon. Do you want some dry clothes or a blanket?” 

“Sure,” and she pads after Clarke into the bedroom to find a dry sweater. She starts to pull off Clarke’s favorite sweater, but the wet fabric is all stuck to each other and her shirt comes up with it. Clarke doesn’t think to stop herself from watching new skin become available, the jut of a hipbone… It’s only when the girl flails a bit and requests a bit of help as her arms are stuck over her head and the fabric is too damp and adhered to her that she can’t escape that Clarke steps closer to ease the shirt over her head. 

It feels intimate and familiar. She smells like pine and rain, and Clarke is drawn even closer. She’s been freed, and there’s no reason for Clarke to still be standing this close to her, but neither say anything. Clarke just quietly stares, eyes flitting between lips and forest green.

Clarke thinks she might kiss her. There’s a moment where she thinks she leans in, but is cut off by Clarke blurting out, “Can I paint you?” 

The girl nods, and moves to put on the dry shirt, but Clarke stops her, “Actually, I have an idea.” 

Clarke brings them back out to the living room and lays out a large drop cloth, pulls out a few body-safe paints, and instructs her to lie down on her stomach and Clarke sees the moment it clicks for her. “Oh, you want to paint on me.”

“Is that okay?” 

She nods, and there’s an intensity to Anna’s eyes that exists whenever their eyes meet, and Clarke isn’t sure how someone could hold so much and not burst.

She lays down on the drop cloth, pillowing her head on her arms, and Clarke starts by sitting next to her, but the angle isn’t quite right. She insists that Clarke just sit on her thighs, but Clarke hesitates. “I don’t want to squish you.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” 

Clarke settles on her thighs, straddling her, immediately grateful that her model can’t see her face with how flushed she is. She’s a professional artist. Most of her models are nude. Why is this affecting her so much? She’s still wearing pants, and a bra!  

The bra will actually be a problem for the paint so Clarke slides her fingers under the clasp, “Can I…?” She’s not sure why her thoughts aren’t coming out fully formed, but the gesture was enough for her model to get the gist, and she agrees. Clarke unhooks the back and slides the straps off strong shoulders. The rush of heat to her face and her core-- Clarke is sure she must feel like a small space heater on the girl’s thighs. She traces her fingers over her new canvas, watching ribs expand with each deep breath, seemingly trying to slow her heart rate. Maybe that’s just Clarke's wishful thinking. 

“What are you going to paint?”

“The universe.”

Clarke tries to keep her hand steady as she brings the brush to the model’s back. With the first stroke of the brush, she inhales sharply and shivers. “No wiggling,” Clarke gently scolds. 

“It’s cold.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to paint quickly.” 

It’s some kind of exquisite torture, painting Anna’s back. She goes as fast as she can to minimize her discomfort. It’s different, painting on a living canvas. It’s gentler, even more intimate. The longer Clarke paints, the more she’s sure that the heat between her legs is burning a hole through her model’s jeans.  Her model squirms and makes noises and Clarke’s grip on her hip increases the whole time, unclear which of them she’s trying to anchor. She tries not to focus on it, instead holding her breath to keep herself steady with every brush stroke, but it’s nearly impossible with all of the wiggling.

Clarke strokes her finger over the rough shape of planets and galaxies she has planned in her head, and sees goosebumps erupt beneath her fingertips, “Are you still cold?”

“No,” her voice is rough and sultry.  

Clarke flushes red again, and tries to pick up the pace to end this maddening exercise in restraint. 

When she’s finished, her back is a sparkling array of stars. Within an atmosphere of black space there are swirls of undulating patterns of deepest blue-gray. There are hints of planets and an ever-expanding view. It’s carefully executed with delicate strokes of smooth brushwork, the galaxies shift in color as they overlie one another: mint green becomes forest green as a light circle of purple drifts over it also turning bubble-gum pink into a pale, dusty tone; cherry red fades into lemon yellow; lilac purple fades to lapis-lazuli blue. It’s vibrant, and seeing it move and shift as her model stretches sore muscles and readjusts her position makes it even more compelling. 

Clarke lets out a soft whisper, “wow” 

“Take a picture so I can see,” her model requests. 

Clarke tries to capture the beauty of this piece through the lens of the camera. She plays with the light and the angles, ensuring to get the model’s entire back, but only the hint of the face. A sharp jawline, the tip of a chin, an intricate braid, a profile at most. When she takes some that would have the whole face, it ends up blurred-- Anna must have turned-- but the effect is intriguing, adds to the mystery of the art and she decides they don’t need to retake them.

“Come see,” Clarke requests, switching the camera into view mode. The screen is small so they crowd close together to look at the pictures. 

“These are great,” she says earnestly. Clarke looks up to meet forest green eyes, sparkling with pride. 

The first kiss can barely be called a kiss. Two smiles bumping into each other. “I’m sorry, you just looked so pretty,” But the second one is initiated by her model and it ignites something in Clarke. Cupping a sharp jawline, Clarke makes sure to kiss her properly this time. As far as first kisses go, this has to be the best. Their lips fit perfectly together and they find a coordinated rhythm as if they’ve done this a thousand times before. Clarke wraps one arm around a thin waist, immediately smudging the paint along her back, but she can’t bring herself to care. This feels right. 

And for whatever reason, that grounded feeling she finds in this kiss makes her think of that voicemail. I love you Clarke. And her chest aches. God she wants that so badly. But fucking the girl you just met probably isn’t the way to get that, so Clarke forces herself to stop kissing. Anna chases lips that aren’t there, then opens her eyes in confusion, “Did I do something wrong?” 

“No. No. You’re perfect. Wonderful, really. I just want to do this right.”

She’s smiling a big wide grin, but her eyes are welling up with tears, so Clarke tries to quell them. “I’ve been kind of rushing into the physical stuff too much and I want something real. I think this could be good.”

“You think we’d work?”

“Yeah, I really do. So, I need you to go shower, get this paint off, and then have dinner with me.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” She grabs the dry shirt and sweater Clarke had offered hours ago, but never let her put on, and heads to the bathroom. 

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

Clarke sits on the couch mindlessly scrolling on her phone, when she hears her front door creak open and then gently shut. She grabs the nearest heavy object, a vase she sculpted in college, and sneaks towards the kitchen, “Who’s there?”

No answer. She raises the vase, armed and ready for whoever is trying to break in. But there’s no one there. She flips the deadbolt just to be safe. Weird. I must be hearing things, she thinks.

Clarke makes her way back to the couch and sees her purple Emerson sweater balled up on the floor, “Aha! I knew I didn’t lose you!” she says to no one in her apartment. She shrugs the sweater on, wondering why she couldn’t find it this morning when it was right there and is bright purple. She snuggles into it and resettles on the couch. It smells vaguely of pine. 

[magicalmischel]

Hiiii!! For the WIP game: please tell me about Layers of Dusk and also obviously Suddenly Flames Everywhere 👀👀 And also the trans!Merlin fic if you're up for it because I know you've been working on that one lately and I'm VERY curious about it 👀👀👀😘

hiiii! 💖 thanks for asking about all of them!! 😂💖 I'll give you the summaries and snippets!

Layers of Dusk

this one is so "old" that I even made a fic cover for it to post on fanfiction.net but obviously that never happened 😂 also my draft included very bad fanart so maybe when i get back to this wip I could make better art now that I have more practice <3

summary:

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Arthur is dying and Merlin is left with no choice but to take his soul into his body and hope that they both last long enough to perform a necromancy spell. This requires sacrifices, and Merlin will have to learn that sometimes, going too far is not worth it.

I remember I stopped bc I got stuck on a scene with Gaius (or was it Gwen??) one day and I just never continued. I also wasn't sure about the fic's message, bc I felt like it should have a sad ending so that Merlin learns a lesson but also at the same time I really wanted to write a happy ending and I just didn't know what to do basically 😂

snippet:

“O drakon! E male so ftengometta! Tesd’hup’anankes!” The words echo through the silent woods and through Merlin’s mind like a steady, painful reminder of what had happened. He keeps holding onto Arthur -- both his body and his consciousness -- and he finds himself almost unaware of his surroundings, as if trapped in a daze of realization that he was indeed holding Arthur’s dead body. He didn’t dare look down at him. He couldn’t. But he took Arthur’s hand and entwined their fingers, willing himself to believe that the dragon would have a solution. Something difficult, no doubt, but very possible that would fix all this. Merlin didn’t care about the consequences. Oh god. Oh. Arthur’s hand was cold.

oh look a classic case of switching tenses halfway through a scene lmao

Suddenly Flames Everywhere

ajksfljals this fic 😭 the idea was born in summer of 2022, and I wrote the first scene then. Then it lay forgotten until I picked it up for acbb 2023 and I spent the entire summer working on it every single day, I wrote the first draft in a month, then started rewriting the whole thing and that's where I got stuck ;-; I'm "working" now on scene 18 out of 33, so I'm around in the middle of it.

summary:

It all starts with a deal. Arthur will capture the last of the dragons, and in exchange, Uther will give him more time to search for his soulmate. He won’t have to marry princess Elena when she arrives in a few days. Little does Arthur know that the dragon he shoots down is actually a young dragon-man called Merlin, and more importantly — his soulmate. It only gets more complicated from there.

and a snippet:

Only it wasn’t a dragon at all. It looked like a man. Arthur’s eyes widened, his grip on the crossbow faltering. The creature had two large, featherless, dark grey wings, and a long tail. No doubt that it wasn’t human. But it also had a human head. And human hair. Human legs, arms, even human clothes. “That’s no dragon,” he hissed. “It’s Dragonfolk,” Sir Kay whispered back, his crossbow still aimed firmly upwards. “They serve the dragons. Live like animals in small groups. Just as dangerous as the foul beasts themselves, I assure you.”

trans!merlin fic

yep this is the one I'm working on now 💖 Honestly it wasn't going to be published at first, I just had a dream where I was trans!merlin three months ago and woke up inspired and bc I was in the middle of a writer's block, I was very excited about it and wrote the whole first draft in one day. Then I forgot about it for several weeks, then I edited it, hated it, left it alone again, and I re-edited it about three weeks ago and decided I should maybe try to post it, so I reached out and found a few sensitivity readers who gave me some notes and now I'm adding scenes and editing the whole thing again 💖

it doesn't really have a big plot or anything unlike my other wips, the summary basically is just this:

In the medieval world where there are no lgbt resources or language to talk about lgbt topics, this fic depicts Merlin’s journey from realising he’s trans, to coming out to Arthur, and transitioning with the help of magic.

not gonna provide a snippet for this one just yet, but hopefully it should be posted within like . . . a month or two? Depending on how much I procrastinate lmao

thanks so much for asking again! 🥰 and sorry for replying with so much text, you know I talk a lot 😂

[pbandjesse]

I felt better in some ways today. Worse in others. The same in the rest. It wasn't a bad day. I am just tired.

I slept. Fine. When I woke up I wasn't thrilled but I was trying to remain positive. I slept with my hair in a braid last night and that made my hair looked really nice so I was pretty pleased. I really liked my outfit. This is my new denim/chambray romper and my denim shirt I got a few weeks ago. I felt real cute.

James would give me hugs and some cold medicine and I would get ready to go. When I got outside though I was very surprised that there was containers of tomato sauce all over and a bunch of it was splattered on our car??? Very very strange. I called James and they came outside to see and we were both very confused.

I would drive to camp and grabbed some baby wipes to clean the sauce. It was very strange. But it's cleaned now.

I was not having fun. I didn't feel great. The medicine would eventually kick in and I was a lot better but my body was really tired. And I had to push myself a lot today.

My parents chaperones started showing up and they were all so lovely. We had some confusion with some parents going to the lodge by accident. But I would walk my first group over to their station, and then back to collect the other half.

It was fun. They were all so nice. And they would do such a good job!! I was really thrilled with this group of parent volunteers.

While I was showing my last couple parents their station I got called on the walkie that the school was here. So off I went. I was a little annoyed because I am only one person and it is pretty hard to get the parents sorted and the kids sorted but I got over there and Elizabeth had directed them into the building. I thanked her and went to find the teacher.

I was a little frazzled and went through my intro to quickly. Oops. But it was fine. I would realize I went to fast and since I actually remembered to bring the story book I was able to read that and fill some time. And while this group was really big (77 students!) they were a really sweet group.

I would walk them to their stations to use some more time. The first block has 10 extra minutes but it was fine. My parents volunteers were rockstar and didn't complain at all.

I would have to take a lot of breaks. I sat on the office porch. I sat on the bench near arts and crafts. I sat on the field stairs. I would make my rounds but overall everyone seemed fine and didn't need me. So I didn't bother them to much. They seemed like they were doing good.

And I was thrilled about that. It makes my life a lot easier.

It was tense in the office though. I think it was known how upset I had been that I had to come in. But it felt very very awkward in the office. I would later on talk to Heather about how the tone of the texts I got on Friday upset me. And she said maybe the tone wasn't intentional. And maybe that is true. I was still a little upset. But I was trying to let it go.

Elizabeth would ask if I wanted Friday off. Yes. So I agreed to do the other field trip this week. Which I was going to do anyway but since I lost my day off today I am glad I will still have one this week. Even if it isn't with James.

At lunch there was an issue with the toilets just continuously flushing. Heather would walk with me to learn to turn the water pressure lower. And now I know how to do that so that's neat.

The last hour of the day went fine. Except when a kid didn't listen to my warnings and ran down the hill and ate shit. Absolutely destroyed the skin on her knees. I felt terrible. Her teachers cleaned her up and got her ice and bandaids but man did I felt bad. Poor girl. And right at the end of the day! The worst.

During the last half hour I was sitting on the stairs and the pollen in the air was crazy. It was making the world hazy. And while my sore throat has gone away, the pollen is still making me snotty and coughing. Really obnoxious. It's wild so thick it was in the air.

At the end of the program everyone came back to the hacienda and I gave them a short quiz. And thanked them all for coming. And then they were off.

And I needed to be as well. I would collect the trash. And then off the lights. But I didn't go and check anything at the sites because I had to go to the doctors and I didn't have a ton of time.

The rhumatologist is actually about 40 minutes away. But it always takes longer. So I was in the car by 215. And would arrive at 305. So now the worst but not the best. The traffic was only slightly stressful because the ETA kept creeping up. Thankfully I had given myself the full hour. And was on time.

I got taken back pretty quickly. They had the new will and grace show on the TV and it is just so cringe. Like I really liked will and grace when I was a kid but the humor just doesn't hit right in the modern world. Felt icky. But whatever.

The girl who did my injections was fabulous. I didn't feel it at all!! 10/10. And then I had to get labs done so they took my blood. Which hurt slightly but was fine. I joked with the receptionist about them taking my money and my blood. And then showed her some pictures from Africa. It was nice to see everyone again. Been so long!

I went home after that. I had texted James and asked if we could go to Mathews for dinner. And they said yes. So when we got home I changed shoes and put some lotion on my face and we were off.

We walked around the park and talked. It was nice. I was really thirsty and was very excited to be at the restaurant.

We got our normal order and had a quiet meal. Just chatting and sharing recipes and making a grocery list. It was a nice afternoon. I was happy and with my husband.

The walk back was a little harder. I got a hard core pain in my stomach. James distracted me by started a game where we tracked window animals. James got a point for dogs, I got points for cats. The final score was 11 dogs and 8 cats. So they won. It was a fun little game. And while I wasn't having the best time walking, a little to hot, a little to much hurty, I was happy and having fun.

When we got home I went and quickly took a shower and washed my hair and I have basically been resting since then. James brought Ruby upstairs and I was amused by her getting stuck on stuff. I painted my toes and picked some outfits for this week. We have two dinners to go to! Charlotte's birthday on Thursday and then Paul and Sam are hosting a dinner on Friday. I am looking forward to them both.

James came to lay with me. And we have just been watching TikToks and having a nice time. My stomach still hurts but it's not as bad. I think I just would like to sleep.

I have another Native American field trip tomorrow. This one starts a little early. I really hope it goes smoothly. Its a much smaller group so I have high hopes but you never know. Fingers crossed.

Now I am going to go rinse off my face because my allergies are bothering me. And then sleep. I hope you all sleep good. I love you all. Goodnight!

[emma-nation]

The Curse Of Hackett's Quarry

Chapter 2 - The Hermit

Summary: After the events of a traumatic night, Emma Mountebank finds out she still a werewolf. While she learns how to deal with this new reality, new problems and feelings come to surface. Pairings: Emma/Abi, Emma/f!OC

Notes: Thanks for the comments and likes. It means a lot to me as it's the first fic I'm writing after a long break. I hope you enjoy what I've been planning for the next chapters! :)

Full Story:

The Hermit card generally indicates a period of soul-searching, introspection and solitude. A period of isolation attempting to heal from a difficult situation. 

The morning after her first transformation, Emma had a hard time cleaning herself before heading back to her dorm in college. She was so exhausted and sick that she missed classes for the next two days.

The second transformation by the end of October wasn't any easier, but she was more prepared this time. She knew what to expect and had enough time to improve the safety measures.

The third transformation was a little less painful. Emma started working out regularly, increasing it significantly by the week of the transformation. She wanted to run a few tests and it worked. The impact of the shifting was more bearable when her body was in a better shape. 

The last full moon of 2021 was the most terrible of all, considering Emma got very sick after waking up in the woods with her clothes torn off, during a cold Winter morning. 

She had never escaped from her restraints, so far. And with her mother being a dentist surgeon, she had no trouble stealing sedatives to keep the creature drowsy. Her priority at the moment was to find somewhere safe and warm where she could transform without any risks to herself or to other people. 

In her old bedroom, at her parents' house, she felt comfortable recording a video again. Not to post online or to show anyone. But she had to vent about everything that was going on.

"People are finally starting to forget about that fucking incident at that cursed Summer Camp. My respects to Mr. H and his family - I hope they found peace, but…" It was sincere. Emma liked Chris and his kids. She lamented their Summer ended in such a tragedy. She didn't know the rest of the family, but the other counselors, who had closer encounters with them, were scared. They seemed kinda dangerous. "I haven't. I'm not allowed to move on. That night will never end, at least for me."

At least the journalists stopped trying to contact Emma or her parents again. The negative comments about her around the internet decreased too. After an episode of the 'Bizarre Yet Bonafide' podcast about Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp, more people started to believe their innocence.

"Everyone else is moving on with their lives - Abi is going to Art School, Kaitlyn is traveling the world, Ryan has started his own podcast, Nick is taking a sabbatical year, Dylan is studying quantum physics and Jacob… well, fuck Jacob. I blocked him everywhere. The thing is, I wish I could do the same. But instead I'm… surviving. I'm learning to adapt to this new fucked up reality."

She hadn't told any of the other counselors she was still infected. No one had called her in months. Yet, she'd check their socials on a daily basis, searching for signs any of them could be struggling with the same issue. Which wasn't happening, after all she was the only one who was bitten by Silas Vorez. 

"And the question remains… if Silas is dead, why am I still infected?"

January 2022

There was a reminder flashing on Emma's cell phone screen. Full Moon. That was the reason why she had spent the whole morning working out hard. Now, she was starving and ready to devour as much food as she could. Her appetite had increased significantly that one time. 

"Hey, Abi," Emma attempted to call her best friend again while she followed to the campus restaurant. "How have you been? I… I'd love to hear from you. I can't wait to hear everything about Art School. Call me."

"Hello, Red Hood," she heard a familiar voice right behind her. Penelope Dalton. One of the popular girls who wouldn't leave Emma alone. "Who's Abi?"

She ignored the question. Back in High School, she used to be one of the popular girls too and she knew exactly how annoying and cruel they could be.

"Maybe she hasn't called yet because she was taken by the Big Bad Wolf," added Christina, one of Penelope's friends, raising giggles from the rest of their cliqué.

"Or maybe," Penelope continued, "she's a decent person who stood up by her friend, Jacob. After all, we know who caused that bloody fight in the camp, after a Truth or Dare game."

The incoming transformation always triggered Emma's worst moods. The mention of Jacob's name still ignited something inside her, feelings she was trying to bury. She automatically felt her skin burning, as well as the adrenaline pumping in her veins.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Emma attempted to close her eyes and take a deep breath, fighting the urge to go feral and teach that girl a lesson. 

"Or what? Are you going to kill me and cry wolf ?"

Her attempt to be funny raised laughs. People were starting to reunite around them to watch the fight. 

Less than one second later, Emma's fist hit Penelope right in the eye. It'd certainly leave a nasty bruise.

"Your psychotic bitch! Look what you've done!"

Penelope advanced in her direction, pinning her to the ground, where she started pulling her hair. Emma's reflexes were increased due to her incoming transformation. Although Penelope was taller, soon Emma managed to switch positions and get on top of the girl, slapping her face hard.

It didn't take long for the campus security to arrive. In the end, Penelope only signed an incident report and Emma was punished with a disciplinary suspension. She was also warned about her recurring absences. 

During High School, Emma spent all those four years dreaming of college. Now, she didn't know if she wanted to be there anymore. She still could pursue her acting career without that.

After that Full Moon, she decided she wanted a break to find herself again. She decided to quit college and find herself a job. 

It wasn't an easy task. Not because she wasn't skilled, but whenever people ran a background check, she'd get rejected. People were still afraid of the negative attention her presence could bring.

That small diner in the heart of New York City was her last resort. 

"Name?" The owner, Addison Davies, asked while taking notes on a paper.

"Emma," she told, making a pause before adding her last name. "Mountebank."

The woman didn't seem to be paying too much attention, what gave her some hope. Maybe she wouldn't research her criminal records after all. 

"Do you have any experience as a waitress, Emma?"

"No, but I'm a quick learner. I'm also an aspiring actress, which means I have a lot of charisma dealing with people."

She was about to speak about her experience as counselor, where all the kids adored her. But she stopped herself. 

"An aspiring actress?"

"Yes. I signed up for a few auditions but while I don't have anything in sight, I need another source of income."

"When can you start?"

"Right now?" Emma furrowed her brows, already expecting another rejection.

It didn't happen. Either that woman didn't read the news or she really didn't care. 

"Great, come with me and I'll show you what to do."

Addison was very satisfied to see how good she was doing and how quick she learned. She never asked any questions about Emma's past. She even agreed to give her an extra day off, during one specific day of the month. 

Getting a new place to live was Emma's next goal. Her parents weren't happy when she dropped out of college. Living under the same roof was becoming impossible. They argued most part of the time. For many years, Emma did everything to please her parents and fulfill their expectations, but right now, she had other priorities in mind.  

During her free time at the diner, she'd check the newspaper for announcements.

"Looking for a place to live?" Jenna was Emma's co-worker. She treated her well since the first day, giving her some useful tips. They were becoming good friends. 

"Yes, do you happen to know any?"

"One of my roommates just moved out after graduating. Ben and I could really use somebody else to help with rent."

Benjamin also worked on the diner. He was more quiet and introspective, but very friendly. 

"Do you mind if I check it tonight?"

They lived in a studio apartment. The bedroom was large and comfortable, but what caught Emma's attention the most was the basement she noticed once she entered the building. According to Jenna, it was always locked and never used by anyone. That could be the solution to all of her problems. During the Full Moon nights, she could just lock herself in there.

"Do you think the landlord would rent it for me?"

"I don't know, you could speak to him but… why?"

"I… uh… I could use some space to record my videos and rehearse for my auditions, you know?"

Jenna didn't ask any further questions. Emma spoke to the landlord in the same week she moved to the studio. After selling her car, she paid him some cash to have exclusive access to the basement. As well as the permission to make a few adjustments.

Emma had everything prepared for the next Full Moon. Metal chains to restrain her body were installed in the basement. She didn't want the risk of an accident, in case somebody ever decided to open that door to investigate possible noises. There was also a small bathroom in there that she could use to clean herself when she became human again.

"What kind of videos are you recording down here?" Ben was in the basement, holding one of the chains attached to the walls. Wondering if she had forgotten to lock the door, Emma almost dropped the supplies she was carrying downstairs - snacks, water and fresh clothes.

"Horror. I'm really into horror movies and… I've been doing some auditions for a role in the genre."

"Every once in a month?"

She let out a breath. It was obvious they'd notice someday, but she didn't expect it to be so fast.

"Huh?" In that moment, Emma prayed she was really a good actress. She forced a confused expression. "What are you talking about? I come here everyday. When you're still at the diner."

"You were in a terrible mood earlier today," Ben crossed his arms, staring at her with a suspicious look on his face. "And you're the most cheerful and energetic person I've ever met."

"Have you ever heard of PMS?"

Benjamin let out a small laugh, before adding:

"You lost control of your strength and accidentally smashed a glass in your hand this morning."

"I'm a little clumsy sometimes," Emma lied again. 

"You made a deal with our boss that you couldn't take night shifts on one specific day of the month and the following morning," she never assumed they'd notice that one detail. "Each one of these nights have Full Moons."

She raised her hands defeated. Ben didn't look scared or even upset. He didn't even show any surprise.

"Don't tell anyone. Please? I'll find another place to live. I just need some time."

"I can help you, Em."

"What?! Why?! Are you out of your mind? I have no control of myself. I'll kill you."

Benjamin sat on a chair and asked Emma to sit too, in front of him.

"West Virginia. My uncle. One night he was hunting in the woods, when he got bitten," he started telling. "At first we assumed it was an animal, but… after that he'd transform every Full Moon. We had to keep an eye on him, to prevent him from slaughtering people."

"And…" Emma stared into his eyes. "Is he cured now? Did you find a way to break the curse?"

"He went missing," Ben answered after a mournful pause. "Dead. Most likely. The neighbors started noticing something was off."

Emma swallowed dry. If she wasn't careful enough, that could be her fate too.

"Do you think anybody else noticed something is wrong about me?"

"No, I only noticed because I became familiar with the signs. But you should tell Jenna. She's at nursing school, she could help you with the tranquilizers."

And like that, her roommates became her 'Wolf Pack', as Emma liked to call them. They didn't mind covering her shifts or staying awake monitoring her werewolf form through the cameras they installed in the basement. A shotgun with silver shells was always prepared in case the worse scenario happened. 

The mornings after her transformation were the worst. Emma would feel exhausted and sore. She'd spend hours under the shower, where she'd let her emotions flow. No one had seen her crying yet. All the time, she acted tough and confident. No one could tell there was something so traumatic going on in her life. But in the loneliness of the early hours of those mornings, she felt like a scared lonely child.

April, 2022

After months of agony and misery, everything seemed to be falling in place, but Emma still couldn't feel like herself. She'd still attempt to record videos as she used to do in the past. But it wasn't the same. Her venting always came back to the same subject. She couldn't even post that online - people would assume she had definitely lost her sanity. But at least it was a good kind of therapy.

Ben and Jenna were helping her with an extensive research, but she couldn't find any clues that lead to an explanation of why she was still infected.

"Ugh," she placed her laptop away from her. "Not even the detective I hired could find any information about Eliza and Silas Vorez. It's like they never existed."

"They were probably using fake names," Ben suggested. "The woman kept the guy caged like an animal. That's certainly illegal."

"We should try a psychic someday," Jenna said. "Do you think they'd know anything about werewolves?"

"I doubt it."

"The Deep Web?"

"Oh, no. Ben taught me how to access it and I found some very… disturbing stuff there."

"I warned you about the werewolf kink," Ben said, letting out a laugh.

"Please, don't say it again," Emma made a disgusted face. "I wish I could unsee it."

"Anyways, it's your birthday tonight and we should definitely go out to celebrate."

It was the first time Emma wasn't excited for her birthday. All the previous years she'd throw wild parties and crowd her house with friends. Now, she barely left the apartment. She was either working at the diner, researching werewolves and once in a while, she'd sign up for auditions. So far, her only work as an actress was a small internet ad she did to promote Addison's diner.

"Happy birthday to me," Emma spoke to her cell phone's camera later, when she was lying in bed. "I turned nineteen today. Yay!"

"It was different from my other birthdays. I didn't get so many messages or gifts. No wild parties either. No, crazy parties actually. I don't like the word 'wild' anymore, now it reminds me of…"

She didn't finish. It was always hard to say it aloud. Even to herself. 

"I went out with Ben and Jenna to try to forget about… that thing . Sometimes I can allow myself to act like a normal girl and have some fun. I met some people during our night outs. Guys and girls too. But dating is not an option right now."

"I mean… how am I supposed to even squeeze a relationship among all this crazy shit that has been happening to me? I know some freaks have a werewolf kink but I bet they'd run away the second I burst into that bloody mess of a monster."

"There's one person though… nevermind."

She turned off the camera. The person she had in mind hadn't even called her yet. Not even to wish her a happy birthday. 

June, 2022

It was the beginning of another Summer. Almost one year had passed since that last night at Summer Camp. Emma was on her lunch break when got a call from an unknown number. Her heart skipped a beat - she was expecting a call about an audition she had done a few days later. But she never imagined the voice on the other side of the line would ruin that little balance she was attempting to keep in her inner world.

"Emma? It's me, Abi."

"A-Abi?" The corners of her mouth curled up in a smile. "It's… uh… it's been a long time. How have you been?"

"I'm home from college and I was wondering if you'd like to hangout."

[askteikoku]

NaruMura with 21: Through a song ❤️

First of all sorry everyone for the disappearence, I got sick. I also passing for an art block so I only add the writting but as soon as I recover for this too I'll try to do some chibis for each ficlet! Here you have! Hope you'll like it!

Narukami had never fallen in love with anyone, he had spent his fourteen years up to that point with no interest in anyone else and love was a strange and abstract concept that only appeared frequently in the songs he listened to. A phenomenon that occurred around him uniting his friends but that did not directly affect him.

If he didn't expect to fall in love, much less did he expect that the person who finally managed to reach his heart lived more than two thousand kilometers from his city.

And yet it was inevitable for him to fall in love with the Oumihara team's engaging tactician, Otomura, whom he met during a Teikoku match against the Okinawan team when he was in his second year of middle school.

He was surprised that the captain of the Oumihara was good friends with Kidou and Otonashi, they told him how they had met a year before and how they recruited Tsunami, who also was a great friend of Fudou's and who was screaming in the sea at that time ​​because the pinkhead took his friend surfing in the same table and due to Fudou’s inexperience they ended up falling because of a wave.

They all laughed, and Narukami found that Otomura's laugh was much deeper, more intimate and extraordinary than any music he had ever heard.

From that day on, Otomura and Narukai began to talk, because somehow their passion not only for soccer but also for music allowed them to connect like two gears ready to fit into each other. Every day they spoke through messages, telling each other about their days, exchanging songs they liked and sending memes that made them laugh until they cried with sore stomachs from the laugh.

There came a time when Narukami was looking forward to finishing his daily chores at school and training so that he could talk to him. In the same way that there came a time when their conversations through messages became conversations through video calls.

During the summer of his third year of Middle School, his friend invited him to spend a few days with him in Okinawa. Doumen and Otonashi, who were up to date on the boy's feelings, not because he had come to tell them but because it was too obvious what they were, congratulated him and repeated once more that they were sure that Otomura felt the same as him.

But Narukami wasn't sure about it, it was true that he was in love, it was true that they got along perfectly, it was true that they were talking until late and that on some occasion they fell asleep because they didn't want to end the call. But it was also true that they lived very far from each other.

Summer passed and with it Narukami lived a dream vacation with long walks on the beach, cold fruit juices of vibrant color, barbecues with the rest of the Oumihara team and numerous friendly soccer matches.

Winter passed and with it Otomura lived the coldest winter of his life, with snow fights against the Teikoku boys, watching the sunset in Inazuma’s Steel Tower Park and visiting Narukami's favorite cafeterias to drink hot cocoa to recover the heat.

With that feeling in his chest hidden deep in the silence that Narukami kept, time went by, a new summer came and a new winter came. The encounters between the two boys continued to increase: Narukami went to visit Otomura during Golden Week, they saw each other at soccer matches, and they even went to a concert together of a band that they both liked a lot and that was touring Japan.

And then, when Narukami was in his second year of High School, he received some news that made his not-so-secret secret tremble. Otomura had to enter the University and he  decided to study in Tokyo.

That changed everything, since they would no longer have hundreds of kilometers separating them but would live in the same city.

When Otomura traveled to Inazuma to look for a flat, Narukami accompanied him and when he finally moved they were both unpacking, singing happily with background music coming from an old radio from the boy with light blue hair.

It got late and Otomura invited him to stay the night with him, the first night in that student flat in Inazuma near the University he had finally managed to enter. They ordered Chinese food and sat on the floor, the radio still playing.

“Which University will you apply to, Kenya?” the boy asked suddenly, causing the other to blush and choke on the noodles.

“I have decided to apply to the same one as you. Maybe we can get into a club together.”

Otomura looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows and two pinkish spots slightly coloring his cheeks, he closed his eyes and smiled happily.

"Of course. I have heard that they have a rather interesting Music Club, although the Football Club is also tempting.”

Narukami chuckled.

“Here we both continue with our two great loves.”

"Three."

Narukami's light blue eyes narrowed, heart pounding. Was Otomura hinting at what he thought he was hinting at? He said nothing but continued eating in an unusual silence, a silence that had little left to disappear.

He bathed after dinner and Otomura lent him his clothes. Narukami wasn't sure which was worse, the horrible fish joke on the shirt or the fact that it smelled like his friend.

“Kenya, before I came here I wrote a song for you, do you want to hear it?”

"Did you write a song for me, Gakuya?" Narukami's face was completely red, and he was not much different from the other boy, he nodded with a heavy feeling in his stomach and Narukami settled next to him.

The strategist took the keyboard he had brought with him and placed it on his crossed legs. He began to move his fingers decisively across the keys while the letter he composed coming out of his lips.

A beautiful love song.

Narukami stood up immediately and his eyes widened each time without interrupting despite believing that the strong beating of his heart must be interfering with the melody, until Otomura finished with an "I love you."

Then he raised his violet eyes to discover the impact of his song. He couldn't see Narukami because as soon as he pushed the keyboard away, Narukami jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"I love you too, Gakuya!"

[vampwritesstuff]

Songbird ~

Pairing : Xavier Thorpe x Siren!reader (gender neutral, no pronouns mentioned)

Summary : Xavier Thorpe adores your voice and goes out of his way in order to listen to you sing

Warnings : stalker behavior if you squint

Genre : general fluff

Requests : Open

I could not get this idea out of my head and needed to write it because it just seems so cute and pure.

Masterlist

Xavier wasn’t certain in many things, but one thing he was certain of was that he adored your voice.

He first heard you when you were practicing with the choir club, he had been painting his mural in the quad at the time and you had begun a solo.

He was struck dumb at the sound of your voice, it was such a saccharine sound and he was addicted to it. Eventually he began to notice your little habit of humming to yourself as you did little tasks, like reading or studying for exams. Soon he began to actively seek you out when he knew you would be singing or humming, often ‘coincidentally’ being near the entrance of the quad when there was choir practice. Xavier found himself constantly sketching you, often on a stage where you’re the spotlight.

His secret adoration for you wasn’t a secret very long, Ajax eventually found out when he found him sketching you, and it wasn’t long before Enid found out from Ajax either. However, Xavier made them both swear to secrecy, and eventually they end up attempting to get you both together.

It started out as small things, Enid mentioning to you how Xavier looked nice that day or Ajax purposely sitting next to Enid and leaving no other seats except next to Xavier and forcing you both to sit together. But to no avail, Xavier was too nervous to strike up a conversation and you were too oblivious to get the hints.

However, something they didn’t know, you greatly admired Xavier’s art. Always watching with interest as he painted the mural in the quad, even just watching him concentrate while sketching in class made you feel a sense of calmness. Xavier made you feel more peaceful than anything else.

You did start to notice how, during the week before the rave’N, he started showing up to places where you often visited when you wanted to study, read, or just relax. You found it odd how you would catch him glancing at you as he drew in his sketch book. Unbeknownst to you, Xavier was working up the courage to ask you to the dance and sketching you while you were going about your daily life helped calm his nerves.

It was during a cold, rainy morning that he finally got the chance to ask you. You had been hurrying to class and bumped into someone, knocking them and yourself off balance. The person you bumped into grabbed hold of your waist to steady you and themself, and keep the both of you from falling onto the wet stone pathway of the quad. Processing what had happened, you looked up to see Xavier. “Oh my gosh, Xavier, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going, are you alright?” You asked him.

“Uh, yeah. Are you okay?” He asked, looking down at you, realizing just how much smaller you were compared to him. “I’m alright, so sorry again but I have to get to class.” You stated as you began to walk away but was stopped as a hand caught hold of your wrist. “I actually needed to ask you a question.” Xavier told you as you turned to face him, looking at him with a quizzical expression. “I… uhm… well,” he started, obviously nervous about was he was going to say, but you patiently stayed silent to allow him time to process his words.

“I’ve liked you for a couple months now and if you would allow me, I would like to take you as my date to the rave’N.” He blurted out, trying to hide a bright, red blush that adorned his cheeks. You were stunned, obviously not expecting him to be so out right with it. You looking at him for so long with out answering made him regret asking, thinking you were going to laugh and reject him. But instead, you smiled the same soft smile that he so often draws when he has art block, and said to him, “I would love to go with you to the rave’N.”

Xavier breathed a sigh of relief, smiling widely as he heard those words. Which he was sure would play over and over in his head on repeat for the entire day. However your eyes widened, “I have to get to class!” You panicked, leaving Xavier after leaving a small kiss on his flushed cheek and hurried off to your class. His hand found it’s way to the cheek that you kissed and, if it was even possible, his smile became wider. He was sure that Enid and Ajax would be excited to hear this.

[darrylayo]

My friend is in Thailand and is sending photos to me every so often. Apparently rice in real life is exactly like rice in Stardew Valley! That’s so cute 😊

How are you all doing today?

I’ve been fussing with various desires for projects. The best way to be fussy in a productive way is to open up my gallery in Procreate and just let my mind wander across the thumbnails and choose whichever to work on just based on immediate temperament. “Oh, I can go and tighten up that arm,” or “yknow, now that I think about it, I can sketch a background layer for this one.” This helps to avoid creative block on an image because if one drawing isn’t calling out to me, I can productively give my energy to a different drawing that is. Rather than just staring hopelessly at one frustrating sketch.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

“My new fall coat’s got strange powers/ when I’m with it, I know I am not the same without it”

Cold weather is nice.

I can easily fit a book into my coat pocket and that is a gamechanger for traveling around the city (to work, to a friend’s house, et cetera). It feels nice to have two pieces of life that fit together seamlessly. Today’s reading is from The Gospel of Judas, from The Apocryphal Gospels. I picked up a copy last week and it’s fascinating to learn about the parts of Christianity that didn’t make it into the canon. Anyway, Jesus pulls his friend Judas aside and shows him the mysteries of the universe and the fate of the world. Then he leaves Judas to his role in the affair.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I do a lot of my drawing these days on the iPad. Despite its portability, I prefer to keep it in one spot. In the way that my brain works, it’s helpful to link a task to a location and a physical context. In my bedroom, at my little desk next to my bed—that is the home of my digital art practice. When something has too many options, my mind goes into all possible possibilities and accomplishes nothing. When the option has been preselected, each space becomes “the house of” a task. My small desk is the house of drawing digitally. The large desk (attic) is the house of drawing on the drafting table. It’s clarifying; it helps me to keep my focus.

Just so, the cold half of the year is the house of carrying a book that fits into my coat pocket.

Anyway, here’s a sketch I made in Procreate:

[wind-becomes-lightning]

trick or treat !!!!!!! <333!!!!!

okkk based on this art by @seoz-seoz and in my mind this is kind of set in @kankuroplease's tattoo shop au :D

Going sideways to fit through the frame, Rin made her way out of the bedroom to the hallway and then to the door. “I don’t think he has even made anything. I never saw him craft.”

Kakashi had to walk sideways too, his eggplant costume way too big for a conventionally sized door. Obito had made fun of his choice, said that Kakashi loved neither of them as much as he loved eggplants, but Kakashi was not the type of guy who got discouraged by teasing like that.

He had told Rin he wanted to be an eggplant and asked for her help. Rin had of course agreed to help, even though she was already busy enough crafting her own costume, which was a heart, but an anatomically correct one. Obito had called her a poser for getting into med school and showing it off, but just like Kakashi she was immune to his teasing. She liked being a heart, especially if it was anatomically correct.

“Obito! We should leave now,” Rin yelled up the stairs to where the bedrooms were. Somewhere earlier this afternoon Obito had disappeared there and not come out yet.

Kakashi sighed. “I don’t think he is coming honestly, he is probably embarrassed he was too lazy to get a costume”. The last few weeks Rin had tried to get Obito to tell her what he wanted to be for halloween, but each time Obito had blocked her off with saying that he had a plan, well, they had never seen him work on anything so he had probably just lied to them.

Rin tried again: “Obito, we really are short on time.”

“Yes, and I can’t be late again, the others would laugh at me,” Kakashi banged his fist against the wall. Lately he had been showing up late for work for one reason or another. He was determined to come in time today.

They heard footsteps on the staircase. “Yes,yes, alright, I just needed to put my costume on.” Obito stomped down the stairs and into the hallway.

Rin and Kakashi’s jaws opened up at the same time. 

“You will be cold like this,” Rin said. 

At the same time, Kakashi said: “Are you wearing a real pumpkin on your head?” 

Obito was shirtless, his scarred side shining in the pale light of their hallway as if he had waxed it. On top of his head, hiding his face, he was wearing a carved out pumpkin and the closer Rin looked the more clear it became to her too, yes, it was a real pumpkin.

“Well?” Obito said after a minute of stunted silence passed. “What do you think?”

Kakashi shook his head: “You are an idiot. Why didn’t you just come up with a costume instead of scrambling on the last day?”

“I didn’t scramble on the last day,” Obito protested and put his hands on his hips. “I had this idea for a while. Look, I’m an undead cursed with a pumpkin head, isn’t that obvious?”

Kakashi made a loud “tss”-sound, but Rin cut him off from nagging any further. “So this was your plan all along? While we were crafting our costumes you always had this in mind?”

They couldn’t see his face, but they knew Obito was puffing out his cheeks. “Yes? I don’t know what your deal is. At least I look scary.” Then under his breath: Though it would not surprise me if someone were scared of a giant eggplant walking around and it's not even meant as innuendo.”

Rin, smelling the argument coming from a mile away, stepped in before it could happen. “Well, we need to go, we are already late now, so the costume will do.” She turned to open the door.

“You’re an idiot.” Kakashi said, stepping next to Obito. “But at least wear a jacket so you don’t get a coat and cry on my shoulder again like last time when you had a fever.”  He handed a jacket over to the other man.

Then all three of them left their apartment together.

[soralinklokidottirofmirkwood]

The Hobbit x neko heterochromic teen reader part 4.

Reader meets Thranduil and he takes an interest in her.

I don't know how long the walk was but I fell asleep in Legola's arms until I heard his soft voice "wake up Tithen pen we are here." I opened my eyes and saw a palace that looked like a huge tree mixed with a cave and two guards blocking the doors but those guards were very rude so the she-elf I now know as Tauriel told them off.  "ENOUGH, we have 13 prisoners to put in cells and a child who needs immediate medical attention, one of you take the leader to my father, the others take the other twelve to the dungeon, Tauriel I'm gonna need your help with her." Legolas said.

I was taken to a room supposedly a healing ward, Legolas sat me on his lap "Tauriel has to stitch up your cut you got scratched really badly by the spiders Little one!" I nodded but realized I never told them my name "my names Y/N by the way Y/N L/N." they both smiled and we're about to speak but a guard came in "King Thranduil wishes to see the girl!" As the guard got ready to grab me Legolas said "I will take her myself, we will be out soon she needs her injuries checked." the guard left as Tauriel started to stitch my cuts and put a bandage around it, she needed to see if I had anymore injuries but Legolas was still in the room "Mellon nin can you leave? I need her to lift up her shirt." Legolas blushed and walked out.

I let Tauriel rewrap the wounds I got from an orc and warg attack 2 weeks ago and she gave me a medical patch for the black eye I got when a spider trampled me.

Tauriel finished patching up my wounds but before I pull my tunic down she stared at my tattoos "Have they’ve tainted you little one?" I shook my head smiling at her "no I got them for my birthday, my sister let me get them." she was really amazed by the art of my tattoos, but when I was pulling my F/C Tunic down we didn't hear Legolas come in and he was looking at my injuries and tattoos "What have you've been up to with those dwarves? And HAVE YOU'VE BEEN TAINTED?" he asked staring at my cherry blossom tree tattoo, luckily Tauriel told him "Come along Y/N my father wants to see you!" After putting my cloak back on we walked out of the healing ward and made our way to Legolas's dad, on the way I was getting looks of curiosity, awe, judgment, and disgust.

The elves with judging and disgusted looks were making me uncomfortable, I decided to put my hood on.

Legolas sees this picks me up again and gives those elves a scolding glare.

He ran until we were in front of a big double door that had two guards guarding it.

They bowed to Legolas and opened the doors for us when we walked in I told the guards "Thank you." To which they smiled.

I looked up at a spiral of stairs leading to a throne with an elf who looked like an older version of Legolas sitting on it, he had the same hair, eyes, and facial features as Legolas but he was bigger and he had bigger eyebrows (that reminded me of caterpillars) he saw me and had a look of boredom on his face, "This is the child Ionneg?" he asked in a deep voice that made me gulp causing him to smirk in dominance "yes Adar this is the girl, Y/N." Legolas said while putting me down as King Thranduil came down "You are from a race long thought to be extinct little one." He said looking down at me.

I wanted to run but I held myself together "I am your majesty." he looked at me with no emotion on his stone cold face, "I sense a great gift within you." he says when all of a sudden my moon manipulation powers came out causing moon-dust to rain down making him smirk again.

When the dust cleared he got on one knee and began playing with my key necklace.

As he is playing with my necklace he sees the arkenstone shard on my choker "how did you obtain this child?" He asked holding it with his big finger "it was given to me by my late parents." I said.

King Thranduil looks at it in awe then at me with a stern look and said "You will be staying here from now on, but there are rules.” He said standing tall like a tree “1. You will have limited time outside, 2. You will not be doing any sort of training or fighting until further notice, 3. You will be having academic lessons with Cathrine five days a week, 4. you are forbidden from using your powers in the palace, 5. Your sword will be confiscated when I feel you’re ready to use it, 6. you will have bodyguards with you at all times! There will be consequences if you disobey me. Am I making myself clear?!" He asked firmly I nodded and said "perfectly." But then I remembered that Durins day is almost here and I had to find a way to help the company get to Erebor.

"I will stay but I have one condition." Thranduil gives me an I'm listening look as he drinks from a goblet "you will let the dwarves go and allow them to continue their quest to Erebor before Durin's day." he has a thinking look but nodes his head "very well I am a man of my word." then he turns to Legolas as Tauriel walks in "Legolas go tell the guards to let the dwarves go and get servants to prepare a room and bath for Y/N, and tell a maid to bathe her and put her in clean clothes! Hers are covered in dirt and blood." Legolas nodded and walked out "and Tauriel tell Meludir, Estel (not Aragorn btw), and Elrolith that they will be Y/N's new bodyguards." Tauriel nodded and we walked out of the room to see a maid walking up to me "hello I am Anna, I will be your new personal maid." she said taking me to my new room.

[somediyprojects]

The Tapestree Project is a memory cloth/tapestry stitched and designed by Rachel Samek (née Piso). This is an ongoing project in which she documents her life in cross-stitch. She stitches memories, current events, and anything that especially interests her. She keeps an online journal to recount why she chose certain motifs. The tapestree is stitched on 45ct. ivory Graziano linen with a range cotton embroidery thread. The cloth measures about three feet wide by two feet high.

[Reddit | Blog | Instagram | Facebook | Tumblr | Twitter]

Descriptions under the cut.

pics 1 & 2— I stitched these little gold scissors this week to remember the foggy, intense few months immediately following the birth of my boys. If you knew me around that time, you know that when I was just about 7 months pregnant, I was diagnosed with preeclampsia and received an emergency C-section at 31 weeks. All three guys were incredibly tiny (Charlie was 2 lb 12 oz) and as expected, they would go on to spend long (long, long) stretches in the NICU. Also expectedly, I was a wild mess. I was spending long days at the hospital in the middle of winter, feeling powerless, and as a result, I was killing myself trying to pump enough to keep up with three infants. During those delirious nights of waking up every few hours, I would collapse in front of Hulu (probably rewatching The Handmaid's Tale) and Hulu would do what Hulu did best: repeat the exact same commercial every 20 minutes. During those first weeks, that commercial was a trailer for the upcoming horror movie "Us." The score of the two-minute trailer is so unsettling that even though I would sometimes scramble to switch it off, it was also weirdly comforting to be shocked out of my weepy, helpless state of zombiehood. This came with the price of scaring myself shitless when I had to walk back to bed at 3 AM with the slowed-down, beefed up version of "I Got 5 On It" on repeat in my head. These scissors, a symbol from the movie, represent those weird, difficult postpartum nights. Whenever I hear the first few chords from the trailer, I'm immediately back in 2019, freezing cold on our old couch, fully panicked at life.

pics 3 & 4— I added more hairwork to my tapestree! Last fall, I cross stitched a tiny design using my boys’ hair. I tried again this weekend, using my own hair to make this equally tiny bird. One of the questions I get a lot with this project is whether I get burned out working on the same thing for so long. Yes, I get sick of it, mostly due to the pressure I put on myself to include things (like current events) out of obligation. This bird was one way to bring “me” back into it. If you know anything about the Victorians, you know that they loved crafting with hair. One way was braiding a lock and placing it in a book with a poem underneath—creating an ode to a person’s essence. Since it was fashionable to be sentimental, they made similar keepsakes as jewelry and other textile art. I’ve talked in the past about how much of a nightmare it is working with hair, but if you’re interested in seeing my process, you can find a highlight on my page that covers my last attempt. I also included a picture of the back of my stitching (first time ever!) so you can see the ridiculous knot it creates.

pics 5-7— I have a new tapestree addition! It's the weird little quilt at the very bottom! I have a bin in our basement with a bunch of the boys' preemie onesies. I have plans to make a quilt with them, but since that probably won't happen for another 20 years, I wanted to add something small to my tapestree. Half of the quilt blocks are snipped from the clothes with patterns that have the strongest memories of the boys being in the hospital (the white parts are fabric, for example). The rest is filled in with solid cross stitch. It's been a crazy few weeks! I recently started working full time again (from home, fortunately!) and we're starting to plan the boys' third birthday on December 14th. I can't believe it.🤍

[throatcoat]

//chapter 13// //ghosting, literally//

it was close to the winter break and i was spending the holiday in the high school commons laying out styrofoam plates and utensils on the blue table tops. the smell of scalloped potatoes and some sort of meat filled my nose, leaving me nauseated. more than half the town would be there any moment, and more than anything, i wanted everything to be over with already. my face hurt, and i could feel the bruises starting on my puffy eyelids. sighing, i sit at an empty table, staring at the tiger's portrait. my stomach hurt, and i felt like i needed to vomit.

the day before, my eyes were so swollen from tears that i could not see. it had been a week since i last heard from jeremy, a week since my messages no longer were able to be delivered and i had zero clue why i had gotten blocked. that morning though, i finally got an answer in the form of an unknown number and a little girl voice on the other end.

i met him a week after i had turned 12, exploring chatrooms out of boredom and loneliness. i spent most of my time in one that was centered around art, meant for teens, but just as filled with creeps. it did not deter me. on one particular tough night, i found myself replying to some kid asking if anyone else liked the video game kirby. we clicked instantly, and suddenly i had my very first true best friend. jeremy and i connected on a lot, but mostly out of two shared commonalities- severe depression and being bullied. neither of us really had friends- the day we met, some kid had knocked his front tooth out and he told me that he planned on never smiling again. that day, i had a boy ask me out as a prank, sure, not as physically painful as a missing tooth, but the humiliation was familiar.

i lost my best friend before we even turned 16. at first, i thought it was a lie, a prank, and it was not until a few years later that i found myself scouring the internet for proof, anything. a short obituary, the mention of a small memorial for a 15 year old who had a whole life ahead of him. aside from his sisters jumbled and quick phone call, i did not want to believe it, and sometimes, i think being catfished would have made the whole thing a bit more acceptable. a year prior, i had lost nathan, and now here i was, once again mourning in the same cafeteria. the accessibility to a rope and a tree was way too easy.

my fingers trembled as i pushed myself up from the table, i had a few more settings to lay but i felt too sick. i dropped the pile of plates in my hand and rushed to the bathroom. i did not know if i was going to vomit or cry or both or neither but i just needed to get out of there. the smell of the potatoes and old women's perfume was becoming overbearing. i sat in the same stall i always found myself in when having a panic attack, the one that had my named carved into the door by some bitch with a problem. i gulped down air as my fingers traced over the crude carving. a reminder that i was real, or at least existed to others outside of the crowded hallways of my brain. even if it was not a gentle one, it was still something to ground me to the earth a little bit.

my head in the toilet bowl, arms almost buckling, i think about how there is a blizzard in minnesota and it has made it's way all the way over to washington state. my heart was frozen, i was cold. grief feels a lot like hypothermia. like locking yourself out of your house as the temperature dips below freezing- you did not expect to be outside for long so you never bothered with putting a coat on. teeth chattering and toes curling in on themselves, there is no one there to warm you up quickly.

i told two people about his suicide.

the first was one of my real life friends, a simple, "that's unfortunate."

the second was my mother, who could only talk about how my dad lost a friend in the way at the same age. she thought it was selfish.

i learned to hold the grief in, i think jeremy was a lesson on the fact that you are the the only person who can save yourself, and sometimes saving yourself is really just drowning until someone else reaches in and pulls you out. sometimes, we are too late and we think the drowned person is just floating, lazy in the sun, we don't see their blue face bobbing half way out.

i keep finding myself staring into every body of water i come across, the lakes, the river, the long island sound. i don't know what i expect to be staring back, all i know is that the water scares me and i can not swim. i guess he didn't know how to swim either.

[bree4]

I Know Who Killed me Chapter 1

it was Monday October 30, 2017 a day before Charlie Summers would meet his Demise. the air was crisp the leaves orange, the perfect setting. fourteen year old Charlie has nothing to worry about other than THE night of the year where we only care about being a skeleton or a superhero and even though he was way too old to still be trick or treating it was a tradition he and his four close friends had every single halloween. But this Year would be different.....

Three out of four Best Friends would go home and one would be murdered. on Wednesday November 1, 2017, the town of Anoka will be asking who killed Charlie Summers?

there's an alarm sounding on the dresser next to Charlie's bed he's tired but he knows he needs to wake up now or his mother will be aggravated. groaning he grabs his phone it's second hand iPhone 4 that he got from his cousin for his fourteenth birthday, the screen is cracked but you can still see the wallpaper , it's a picture of Charlie and his three best friends: Liam, Olivia, and Ethan who was grade a head of them. 

Mondays were always such shit days but not this week, this Monday meant they were only a day away from Halloween which is the best day of the year, incase you don't know. he jumped out of bed and started to get ready.

Getting ready Charlie grabs his MacBook laptop and starts youtube he's currently watching youtube art hoe look books and you-tubers who vlog their lives living in London or new york, two places he hope to live one day. but he's bored and can't focus so he goes to Spotify to find a fall playlist specifically a halloween play list, hits play than jumps in the shower. 

his closet consists of Levi 501s bright wind breakers and vans that range from classic black to his most worn pair, a checkered print with a rose embroidered on the side. he grabs his pumpkin spice lotion he recently bought at bath and body works shopping with his mom and sisters. he knows it's girly but he's never been one for masculinity. grabbing a yellow top and a pair of Levi's he tucks in the shirt grabs a black belt and rolls the cuffs of the jeans to show his nike socks, and finally grabbing a purple and green windbreaker and his checkered vans he's ready for school. his yellow kanken bag is hanging on the chair of his desk ready to pick up on his way out.

downstairs his mom is cooking breakfast but he doesn't eat much as of recently, he gained a couple pounds over the summer and is now self conscious. his mom has a iced coffee ready for him, he sips it and grabs a banana on his way out, but he throws it in the dumpster as he walks down the drive way. the cold of a 7 am morning in the fall hits his face and it's a feeling he will never forget.

"Charlie?" a familiar voice shouts from across the street it's Liam who lives a block over from the Summers, he's wearing a white oversized sweater and baggy 'mom jeans' with dark green converse and of course he's wearing a Kanken bag as well,  matter of fact almost everyone at Anoka Middle are.

not surprised a art school is obsessed with The Art Hoe Aesthetic, a term that started in 2015 from a poc creator on Tumblr. 

the boys ride the same bus together and a few stops away Olivia and Ethan get on they live next door to each other. and they are the other two of this core four friend group. Ethan is a grade higher than them but they all still hang out together. the bus ride is about a ten minute ride to Anoka Middle outside is a colourful pallet of orange, red, and yellow. everyone here clearly uses tumblr and watches you tubers like OkaySage and Haley Morales; my favourite is Eris the Planet, and Shane Dawson specifically his Conspiracy Videos. 

the bell rings and everyone rushes  inside to make sure we aren't late for first period.

[tonispencerart]

Spencer Returns To The Stage

I haven't properly mentioned this yet, but something happened earlier this evening. But, in an apt phrase, let me set the scene... It's mid-September, 2019. We're a small theatre company based in Paisley, Scotland and it's our last performance of a totally original script for a show about the theft of art, a police officer who isn't who they appear to be, a grumpy old couple who have more money than sense, a bumbling idiot of butler, and murder... And then we take some time off performing while we plan the next show with a whole new story and again, an entirely original script. We're coming up with and writing our own characters, too. Because our rehearsal space - a local church in Paisley - is closing/merging with another church up the road, we start rehearsing etc. somewhere else, swapping between the back room of one pub and the upstairs of another pub. It is bloody cold up there, you know! We typically take a couple of months off just before Christmas. It's February 2020. We go back to rehearsals for one week. We plan to skip two weeks due to other commitments and concerts that folk are going to. And then, if you can remember how early 2020 went, things were slowing down and everything was gradually shutting down as news of the pandemic and the dangers of the said pandemic became more obvious, we planned to have a few weeks off and then get back to it. Things were progressing nicely with the ideas for the new show so we weren't losing any time, really. It'll just be a few weeks, right? Wrong! The following week, after our last planned week off, BOOM! Lockdown in Scotland! And that was it. No more theatre company, basically. A few of us have seen each other around or met up for coffee since then, but the company is no more. And I really missed it. About a year or so ago, I was starting to look for something else - another company - to work with. It's going to sound like I'm right up my own backside, but I really did miss performing and acting. I mean, what is an actor that doesn't act?! And I didn't find anything, really. It's possible that I wasn't looking in the right place, but you know... And then a couple of weeks ago, a friend who also goes to the same Burlesque classes as me (more on that another time, I promise!) shared information about a local theatre company who were having read-throughs and auditions for Panto. And it just so happened to be in the same hall we used to rehearse in at the old church in Paisley! I persuaded another friend - who was also in the same theatre company pre-Lockdown as me - to go along and see what it was about. It's Sleeping Beauty they're doing this year. And the script is good! Afterwards, we went and had a later dinner in a pub before we got the train home and worked out that we hadn't been on stage since September 2019! We decided we'd both audition for Sleeping Beauty a couple of days later. Neither of us really had an idea of who we were to audition for - and we both had to sing. That was the kicker for me! The last time I sang in an audition was in 1999 when I was 17! And I did this last one acapella, too. Only because I couldn't find a backing track that I liked, though. I made it through one verse and the usually reliable stereo that lives in my head and plays music almost all of the time went wonky, like someone had pulled the plug out. The final group of auditions was yesterday as it so happens. And the cast list was made today! Well, guess who gets to play the evil fairy?! Villains are fun to play, aren't they? And guess who has lines to learn?! OH NO! I HAVE LINES TO LEARN! AND BLOCKING! I've always sucked a bit at learning blocking. I get it eventually, but it takes me a while. I'm excited but I'm also a bit scared. What if I've forgotten how to act? WHAT IF I FALL OFF THE STAGE?! I think rehearsals start next Monday. I'll keep you posted, I guess.