#i need to change some things. drawing the same two sillies for months

[strawglicks]

The reason graham messes with cathal

[siddyyyyyyyy]

HI POOKIE

can i request a fic with jason and reader who is supergirl (clark’s daughter) and just then navigating their relationship

i need jason todd in my room at 1 am

Old Friends

Jason Todd x Supergirl!Reader

wc: 2.4 K summary: You meet Jason again after not seeing each other for several years. warnings: fluff? no y/n used a/n: sorry for the long wait, this came out a little longer than usual. I think they would be too shy to admit anything to each other, but they would be cute dou. enjoy!!!

When Jason first met Superman, he didn‘t expect to see another girl his age right beside the man of steel. He was immediately awestruck, realising that you are his daughter, and got straight up flustered when your eyes met briefly.

The younger boy, back then all chirpy and small, really tried his best to impress you in any way possible.

You can pick up a couch without a sweat? He can pick up two… then have his arms hurt for the next few days.

You like frogs? He will fetch and pick up any kinds of frogs he can find and give them to you. Batman definitely scolds him for getting his suit dirty, but Jason couldn‘t care less. You were happy about the things he did, and you both soon grew into a good team on missions. Although those missions didn‘t occur often, you both tried to make the most of it. Playing catch with each other during breaks, drawing together silly things during briefings and exchanging notes, and whispering a small gossip session with the other while no one pays attention to you.

It was all fun and easy with him. Until you couldn‘t go on missions anymore because you had to work on other things, but you promised to get the next one with him as soon as possible. That stretched and stretched for months until it got into years of no missions together.

You are well in your teens now, almost an adult, and you haven‘t heard from Jason at all. It‘s sad and shameful to admit, but you almost forgot the way he looks.

Many years have gone by, being in a new suit and being taller having generally changed over the years. You are an adult now, actually in your twenties, and you are more than excited to see what changed for Jason as well. Since you lived in Metropolis all the time, you didn‘t bother to check what happened with the Bats, assuming everything probably is pretty much the same. Since you are still Supergirl and work together with Superman almost all the time, you are assuming it‘s probably the same with them.

Now that you are flying back to Gotham with your dad, there‘s a lot of thoughts swimming in your head. What if he can‘t even remember you? Is there something Calrk hasn‘t told you yet, and this is actually a bad surprise of his? What if something is incredibly wrong and something bad happened? Is this just another stupid mission?

Coming back to that musty city was nostalgic. With a heavy sigh you‘ve been holding in for, you finally land on the ground.

»You okay? Something bothering you?«

Clark steps beside you and rests his hand on your shoulder, a reassuring weight.

»Why are we here? Like, actually.«

Your dad purses his lips together. You feel the air shift around you, making you even more suspicious.

»We‘re visiting Uncle Batman, remember?«

»Yeah, but why? Did something happen?«

Clark starts walking, and you follow.

»No, nothing really happened. At least nothing that we have to take care of. Just visiting a friend.«

Great, that sounds even more suspicious. After another sigh of yours, you just silently follow him and wait for whatever surprise will get you today.

Even seeing the Wayne Manor feels nostalgic to you. Just looking and approaching the big house is awaking memories in your brain— how you used to chase Jason in the cave and accidentally knock over some vase. Are there still random and useless things in the cave, or did they finally get rid of them?

As usual, you sneaked into the entrance with your dad and managed to get past Alfred without getting caught. Well, at least it seemed like he didn‘t notice you both, but there‘s also a chance he did.

But stepping inside the cave again after so many years felt almost illegal. Sure, it felt welcoming too, but… it feels way more emtpy now. Probably because Batman isn‘t in here yet.

Speaking of the bat, he enters just moments later, seemingly out of nowhere. Superman greets him almost immediately with his usual bright smile, approaching him with a few strides. Just like the earlier days, Batman doesn‘t respond as much and simply gets straight to business.

»Why are you here, Superman? And why is your daughter her as well?«

Wow, it didn‘t even seem like he noticed you in the first place… are you getting impressed by Batman again?

»Oh, just visiting. You know, as good friends do?«

»We are friends?« Batman counters, earning a hearty chuckle from Superman after realising it was indeed just a sarcastic remark. That simple remark feels reassuring, though, almost comforting with how familiar it feels like. It was like a small sign that everything is okay, after all. Just why did Clark need to act so suspicious in the first place?

You didn‘t even notice someone else coming into the cave, being too busy looking around the artefacts that mostly seem to be the same as in the past.

»And you are the daughter of Superman?«

You turn your attention away from the cars in the garage and look at the person that spoke up. Huh… you expected someone else. Instead, there stands Robin.

Robin. In small. Right in front of you. And… he is grumpy?

Is this why you are here? Jason is stuck in his ten-year-old body?

»Oh… yeah, I am.«

Confusion is written all over your face, and you glance back to your dads. Just what is happening here…

»Father told me you used to work together with Jason.«

Silence falls over the two of you. The way this boy talks doesn‘t fit Jason at all. And it‘s clear that this isn‘t Jason.

»Sorry… who are you?«

You finally address the big elephant in the room, still being clueless and confused about the situation.

But so does Robin. He even looks taken aback by the fact that you don‘t know him. Another brief of silence falls over you two before you both call for your dads at the same time.

»Father!«

»Dad!«

Robin‘s glaring at you, and he is glaring at you at the same time. Batman and Superman look over you both, not having noticed any of your exchange before.

It turns out this Robin is actually Damian. He was upset when his father just revealed his identity like that, but it was necessary for you to understand the situation. Shortly after, you also found out about Tim. The Robin after Jason.

So, that leaves for the question: Where is Jason? Is he even still Robin? Why did he retire?

But you don‘t risk asking about that, not wanting to make the situation even more confusing or awkward. Also because you‘ve always been a little scared to ask Batman questions or generally talk to him about more personal stuff.

Eventually, after discussing some more things, it turns out you are here to help them out on a mission. It starts tonight and you are back on track again. Just focusing on the current task and processing the information you get for it.

Arriving at the scene as talked about, you see Batman defeating some of the goons, and that is your call to join him. Superman is also doing the same thing, all the while Damian is getting more information from the bad guys. It‘s all going well as usual, until a bigger threat appears. It knocks you off, making you land some feet away. Turns out, a bigger Villian just arrived and decided to join in on the chaos that‘s already happening.

Due to the fall, it‘s difficult to breathe for a few seconds before you regain yourself and get back on your feet. Charging at the Villian, you put all your anger out on him, beating that random guy in all his weak spots.

You don‘t notice the sound of an engine approaching the scene, too busy handling the bigger guy at the moment.

With a few final punches, he looks like he is about to release his last breath, and that‘s when you decide it‘s enough. Releasing your grip on him, you take a step away and catch your breath.

»Man, I really wanted to handle him. You just stole my job.«

A deeper, distorted voice sounds from behind you, making you turn around quickly. The bigger man just stands there, his red helmet stricking out like nothing else. His shining slits stare right at you, almost making you step back away from him.

Even when he looks rather intimidating, he won‘t make a move on you. And no one even fights him.

»Well, your fault for arriving late.«

You retort back with a small shrug, trying to handle the surprise with some sarcasm. It works, at least you think so. He doesn‘t say anything, only making a quieter huff sound that could be mistaken for a chuckle.

»My bike is pretty fast; I don‘t know what you are talking about.«

He shrugs as well and approaches you now. For your luck, Superman also arrives by your side at the same time, feeling rather tense for some reason.

Batman eventually appears beside the strange man too, with Damian standing behind a few steps. It‘s quiet for a few seconds before Batman updates everyone on the status of the goons and operation, glad to hear it all went successful. Superman is reluctant to leave your side but is forced to eventually, having to discuss some more things with Batman in private.

For whatever reason, that Red Helmet is still standing on the same spot and stares at you.

»And, how should I call you?« Finally, you speak up and want to hear some answers, still having no clue why he is here.

»Red Hood.«

You nod in response, letting that sink in. His short answer didn‘t leave you satisfied though, but you are also slightly unsure of what you should even ask in the first place.

»So, Supergirl, huh? What made you come to Gotham again?«

The distorted voice won‘t give away any emotions, but you swear there is a hint of bitterness.

Finally, before you could answer him, the two older men arrive back to the both of you and seem less tense than before. You feel less awkward now that your dad is by your side again, being still curious about Red Hood, though.

A few more things are briefly discussed before Batman turns to Red Hood, speaking up more casually.

»Are you joining on family dinner this Sunday? Alfred‘s making his chocolate lava cakes.«

Once this question drops, your eyes almost pop out of your skull. Family dinner? Who is this guy? Are they just inviting random people to their manor these days?

Red Hood seems tense, staying quiet for a moment before he eventually answers.

»Just because Alfres makes lava cakes.«

He grumbles back more quietly, making Batman almost smirk.

You turn your attention to Clark beside you, silently begging for answers. He notices your helpless look and becomes sheepish.

»Oh! Uh… Jason is Red Hood. Forgot to tell you.« He whispers to you with a small smile, waiting for you to react. You pause, however, before you finally become more flabbergasted. It doesn‘t make sense at all.

Dinner at the manor was more chaotic than it used to be. With the added family members, it just seemed like a big family that secretly hates each other. The constant talking and insults between the boys are not lost on the both of you. In contrast to them, you just sit quietly together with your dad, watching the chaos erupt between the seven other bats. Besides Barabara and Cassandra, the rest seems to be pretty lively.

One thing you can‘t ignore is the way Jason‘s eyes seem to burn into you the whole time. He can‘t stop staring and looking at you with those intense eyes of his. You tried not to glance his way too much, but you did anyway. You noticed the green hint in his blue eyes. Something you never noticed before. Something else you noticed too is the way he became way more quiet. It‘s not the way it used to be. You really miss the small gossip sessions and exchanges of notes with him.

The dinner is served by Alfred, and you thank him like the rest, starting to eat peacefully. As if on command, the table also becomes way more quiet once everyone has their food and starts eating. You thought you would feel relieved about the silence, but now it almost seems awkward and strange that it‘s quiet.

»Stop breathing so loud, Drake.«

»I‘m not even sitting beside you!«

»Then why can I hear your breathing from up here?«

Damian seems to enjoy making Tim upset. That‘s one of the things you took note of. Also the visible tension between Tim and Jason. At least they don‘t insult each other, only catching glares aimed at Tim from your old friend.

Dick seems to be happy to be here. Especially since you and Superman are there too. You know that the first Robin and your father worked some times as well, having talked and played with him when you didn‘t have your powers yet. He felt like a big brother for you, having played Barbie with him and also getting to have piggyback rides.

He eventually talks with your dad for most of the time, sharing a few smiles with you over the table. Bruce eventually joins in the dinner, not even trying to control the chaos but does give out warnings whenever one of them insults the other verbally.

Finally, after getting the overly delicious dessert, you can have some time to talk before you leave the manor.

As you stand in the hallway with your dad, who is currently still talking to Bruce, you decide to find Jason and talk. You find him beefing with Tim, but they quickly stop as soon as you step into view.

Tim walks away with a knowing smirk, telling him silently that he won this argument. Whatever it was, Jason is glaring daggers at him before he finally turns to you.

You both speak up at the same time, growing sheepish, and he gestures for you to speak first. You suggest exchanging numbers, which works better than you thought. After that‘s done, you finally get to ask your questions.

He doesn‘t really answer the more personal questions as casually as the others, but he tries. Turns out, Jason is still the sweet boy from the past. Whatever he had to go through really affected him, and you don‘t pry on it, figuring it will come with time.

Saying goodbye again is way more painful. You don‘t know when you will meet again, so you make a pinky promise to meet again on a Sunday.

←MASTERLIST

[flymetosnarryland]

A little progress.

I'm working on "Infraction." My precious baby, uh. This art is part of it in a way. Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape. When people are falling in love everything seems easy, but then life happen.

(I'd like to talk about how things are going with Infraction.)

I'm back on it since couple of weeks and working on it is intense (my brain is literally boiling). I don't think I ever planned a story for that long. The first idea has born 6th January this year. I was writing down (like crazy) everything I wanted to be in this fic. During first months it was chaotic and messy, but brought me so much joy. When I've had everything that (I thought) I needed, I wrote first chapters, yeah. And then shared them, because was so excited about all of it and just couldn't wait. Gosh.

Now I... hm... well, maybe not "regret" it, but I think, I totally should have wait. Why is that? First thing first, this story is not ready yet for being written in, you know, final version. It's too fat, lol.

I may want too much from it. There is a lot, like, seriously, A LOT of things to cover. First notes took me around 80 pages and it had many gaps in it (too much if you ask me). Things I needed to figure out and fill in, in the same time making everything work together. Because this Snarry is not sprinkled with crime. It's filled with murder, political shenanigans, family shiteshow and tough, not always appropriate, love. There are secrets and lies, blackmails and history that matter. Backstory of many people, whose actions over the years supposed to bring us to the point where we are now. And, you know, all of it gives me the thrill. First time in my life I feel like a true Puppet Master.

So, couple weeks ago I started to write a proper outline, if I can call it like that. To put everything in order and, going from the very beginning, to fill all the gaps. To answer all the questions I was asking myself in notes. To figure out the missing clues, some details without I couldn't go further and with that - to find out how characters will change facing new situations. How they will grow (I really love this part). Sometimes I think, "why am I even doing it?" I could just write some cosy, little fic where Harry and Severus' silly problems would be the main goal of the story. Like, focusing on them should be enough, right? Why am I going for all the other things, if I just want them to shag and have their happy end after all? 😂

Well, if it's not for fun, I don't know the other reason. The level of excitement is just incredible. I don't know, if what I'm writing is good or bad. If it really has sense, because I've always seen myself rather as a potato, not as a great mastermind who can plot some good shite, you know. That said, "Infraction" feels even more challenging that I ever thought it will be. But I feel deep inside that I can do it. Going step by step where the main plan leads and... it just feels good.

I've started in October 1989. Now I'm in January 2011. It means that I managed to finish everything that happen before the fic starts, lol. And, actually, I almost covered the first part of the book. So, two more to go? Hehe. It'll take time, yes. It's crazy how much I want to continue writing the main chapters, not only swim in the plan-phase. Drawing the series of "Muggle London" art helped me a lot with easing this itch. However, it's still there. I know, though, that I have to finish it. The whole outline, I mean. Without it, things can go south.

That said, I can't tell how long it will take. Couple weeks? Maybe months. This is really... a lot of work and I want to be proud of it. Even more so, because this fic means a lot to me. I know it may not be, you know, mind blowing or something. But I hope that giving it all my love, it could be, you know, not that bad for reading, hehe.

[captainsy-cookiemonster]

Welcome Home

Prompt: Okay! You gonna love this A sandwich.... between....*drum rolls* Mike and Touch Starved!Will … They both brothers, and Mike is a horn dog, while after 3 month parted Will needs a hard release after a stressful business agenda😘😘

Summary: while your one roommate is away, things get steamy with your other roommate. it just so happens that the roommate who was gone comes back while you’re fooling around with the other one. this is fun.

Pairing: bi!Mikey x unnamed OFC x bi!Will Shaw

Warnings: dom x switch x switch, f2l, threeway, p in v sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside (on, uhh both ends), grinding, little bit of degradation, implication that Mikey came in his pants while OFC was grinding on him once, my first time writing a threeway, me picking up a wip after moooonths and a very draining semester, hints at a possible polyamorous relationship?, rules of physics? is this even possible? we don’t ask these kinds of questions here sir, the female character is not described beyond having “grip-able” hair however you want to define it, for the sake of not being called inclusive enough for a reader i chose to make her an unspecified OFC

Names used: bunny, good girl, sweetheart, slut, good boy (Mikey), sir (Will)

A/N: I hope you don’t mind that I changed your prompt a little bit. I didn’t really feel comfortable writing them as brothers, so I made them all roommates. Thank you so much @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @littlefreya and @luna-aestas for helping me when i got stuck or felt it sucked. You girls are amazing ❤️ not beta'd much. Typos we're going down swingin'!

Word count: ca 4k

Title: Welcome Home

Writers live off validation. If you liked it please like, comment and reblog 💕 thank you for reading 💖

It started as roommates. As a guy in his junior year, with friends mostly in higher semesters, Will was suddenly left with an empty apartment and a rent that was far too high to handle all by himself. 

That’s when I came into play, a little freshman who happened to not have gotten a dorm room on campus. It was especially convenient since I got a job at the little café just across the street once I was accepted into college. The wage was just enough for rent and food and I was lucky my parents still supported me.

A few weeks into the semester, another boy joined our little arrangement. Mikey was trouble, which, in a way, was good because that meant he was rarely home. He was always out partying, slept during the day, and missed most of his courses. But at least that meant it was quiet when Will and I  had to study or do homework.

That was two years ago. The three of us have become close friends, almost like family. The boys grew protective of their little barista, who would bring them their favorite coffee whenever I came home. They were almost like big brothers. Well… Almost.

Will has finished his bachelor’s by now and is currently building his own startup, while part time working on his master's program.  So he’s still living in the apartment with the two of us.

Well actually… not right now. He had to go away for three months. Something to do with his business, I can’t really remember. 

Three months alone with Mikey have been... interesting, to say the least. And fun. Lots of fun. Take that however you want.

Right now, we're lounging on the couch, watching some silly movie. I couldn't tell the name even with a gun to my head. It’s late, and Mikey's soft, but progressively more daring caress is using up all the focus I can muster. His hand snuck into my shorts and is squeezing my buttcheek. I bite my lip to stifle a whimper and press my thighs together. He does it again, drawing the same reaction from me; except this time, I bury my face into his chest. I can practically feel his smirk and look up to glare at him. I don’t even meet his eyes before his lips catch mine in a sloppy kiss. 

In a scramble of arms and legs, he pulls me to straddle his lap, his hands kneading my ass while mine paw at his chest and neck, tug at his hair, and grip his shoulders. It’s messy. It’s clumsy. It’s desperate. I want more. I need it. I need to be closer, need to feel him everywhere. 

I start grinding my hips into his crotch, feeling him grow. His hands on my hips urge me on, but instead of speeding up, I slow down. Giggling and out of breath, I break the kiss.

“Nuh-uh, remember last time? Not gonna happen again.”

Mikey huffs and rolls his eyes. “That was one time!”

Laughing, I shake my head and lean down to kiss him again. His hands are everywhere, on my ass, my hips, then sliding up my back underneath my shirt. With skilled fingers, he unclasps my bra, pulling the straps off my arms. As it falls between us, I take it and blindly throw it into the room behind us. Faintly, I hear it hitting the floor before my attention focuses on Mikey’s hands sliding up my tummy and letting his thumbs brush over that spot on my ribs. 

I gasp and grind my hips down harder, making him chuckle. In response, I capture his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging and sucking on it a little before releasing it. Can’t have the boy think he’s got the upper hand in this.

But he still thinks he does. His hands find my tits, and the triumphant grin on his face…

“Oh! Your nipples are hard! Is this turning you on, baby?”

Ugh! That boy! 

“No, Mikey. Obviously not.” I roll my eyes and snort. “And what about you? I’m sure you find it absolutely terrible to have me grinding in your lap, hm? As hard as your cock is.”

“Hatin’ it.” He grins and pinches my nipples. “You know what I’d like better?” He leans in, his breath hot against my neck. “If the two of us got naked.”

“Hm, yeah… Now that you’re saying it… that does sound like a good idea.”

Scrambling to my feet, I’m quick to slide down my jogging shorts. I’m about to take off my shirt, when Mikey gets up and stands right in front of me… Entirely naked. Damn, he’s quick!

“Lemme do it?”

I just nod, lifting my arms to assist him, but of course, he takes his sweet time, letting the tips of his fingers glide up my skin underneath the fabric. Of course, he has to squeeze my tits when he reaches them, but he lifts the shirt over my face too quickly for me to glare at him. It doesn’t stop me from trying, though. Once the shirt is off my body and Mikey sees my face, he can’t suppress a chuckle and quickly kisses the tip of my nose to make the glare disappear. To his credit, it works. A hot flush gathers in my cheeks, and I quickly turn around, searching the room for… Damn.

“Be right back,” I tell Mikey over my shoulder, taking off my panties to toss at him, but I’ve already dashed through the door before I know if I hit him or not.

Not even a minute later, I come back to the living room, finding Mikey still where I had left him, with my panties in his hands, grinning to himself, most likely proud of himself for getting me to soak them that much.

“What do you want with that?” he asks once he notices I’m back, eyes on the towel in my hand.

“Well… I thought that Will would appreciate it if he didn’t come home to cum stains on the couch.” I shrug.

“Ohhh, yeah… Probably.”

He takes the towel from my hand and puts it down on the couch, then sits down on it. Mikey pats his thighs, signaling for me to sit, but I look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh!” He grins sheepishly, realizing what I’m looking at and quickly tosses my panties to the floor. He doesn’t even manage to pat his lap again before I climb on top of him. With one hand on my hip, the other on my neck, Mikey pulls me closer until my lips meet his, and the length of his cock rubs against my pussy.

I start to grind my hips into him, throwing my head back at the friction. I feel Mikey’s breath heavy on my neck, then his soft lips on my tender skin. His hands grip me tighter as I move on his cock, pulling my hips deeper into him. By now, the hand he had on my neck has wandered to the back of my head, tugging at my hair to keep my throat exposed to his kisses. I’m sure my neck will be covered in hickeys tomorrow. There’ll be bruises on my hip, too. Fuck! The thought of carrying his marks makes me even wetter. 

“Bunny, I need you,” Mikey pants against my neck. I nod, and he lets me go, so I can sit up. He grips his cock to guide himself in as I hover above his lap, steadying myself with my hands on his shoulders.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Just a second.”

Oh… yeah… Mikey and tits, how could I forget? With my chest on eye level, of course Mikey has to bury his face into it, peppering kisses all over my boobs, sucking and biting at my nipples until I’m a whimpering mess, swaying my hips in the search for friction, inches away from his cock.

“Okay, ready.” He grins, his free hand coming up to my hip to help me ease down on him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! No matter how many times we do it, I’ll never get used to his size. The delicious stretch of being seated on him all the way has me panting.

“Good girl.”

“Mhh.”

For a moment, I just sit there, resting my head against his shoulder while feeling him pulse inside me. I smile against his skin when he begins to gently stroke my back. His hands shift down to my waist when I start to roll my hips slowly. He squeezes my hips, making me lift up and brace myself on his shoulders. 

Gasping, I relish in the feeling of his cock stroking every spot inside me. I go faster. Harder. His hands shift even lower, grabbing at my butt and guiding my movements. 

"Fuck," we sigh in unison, before breaking in a fit of giggles. With heaving breath, I smile at him, wiping a strand of sweaty hair from his brow before cradling the back of his head in my hands, leaning in to kiss him. He kisses back instantly, tongue swiping along my lower lip to request entrance. Opening my mouth for him, I let his tongue explore my mouth, sucking on it and trying to fight for dominance. We both moan into the kiss, the movement of our hips growing more sloppy, rushed.

"Hey, uh… Oh."

We jump at the familiar voice. Wide-eyed, we turn towards the door, where we find a very flustered looking Will. The thud of his bag hitting the floor makes my eyes snap to his hand that dropped it, then the prominent bulge in the front of his jeans. Once my eyes find his face again, I can spot the hint of a smirk playing around his lips.

"Uhm." Mikey's voice is a little shaky. I feel him twitch inside me. I look back at him, raising my eyebrows in question. He gives me a nod and grinning, I nod back. 

"Will! C'mere." I turn towards him and gesture for him to come closer. He hesitates for a moment before finally taking determined steps towards Mikey and me. 

Standing in front of us, Will leans down to meet my face. his hand reaches up to caress my cheek and I lean into it, missing the gentle touch when his hand wanders down. I gasp when I feel his fingers lightly squeezing my throat, my eyes fluttering shut when he gets even closer. His kiss is still rougher than expected, his tongue claiming dominance right away. I feel myself clenching around Mikey’s cock, a new wave of wetness soaking his lap. Will breaks the kiss way too soon. I try to chase his lips as he pulls back, but he keeps my head in place with his hand around my throat. Smiling while I pout at him, he turns to Mikey.

“Has she been good?”

I feel Mikey shuffle to sit up straighter. A moment passes before he can answer, stunned and with his mouth hanging open slightly. “Yes.” Another moment before he adds an uncertain “...sir?”

Will just nods before finally sitting down right next to Mikey. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me too?”

All I can do is bite my lip and nod. As a reward he grabs my neck again and pulls me in for another deep kiss that leaves me breathless.

Feeling Mikey’s cock twitch inside me, I start grinding on him again. Hot breath against my ear and suddenly there is a pair of lips sucking on my neck. I whimper against Will’s lips when Mikey starts to graze his teeth over the sensitive skin below my ear.

Once Will allows me a moment to breathe again, I kiss my way down to his neck. It’s so much rougher than Mikey’s, the well grown out stubble leaves my lips tingling. I feel him turning his head and his Adam's apple bob against my kiss. At first I think it was to give me better access, but from above me I hear the unmistakable sound of a hesitant but needy kiss. 

Are they- ? Oh fuck, why is that so hot?

Mikey must have felt me squeezing around him because a moment later his hand that was still on my body pushes me to adjust on his cock by the small of my back, nudging against that spot, making me gasp. Being so focused on the changed sensation inside of me, I haven’t even noticed how my nails have started to dig into Will’s chest, until I hear his groan. It wasn’t a pained groan, more like he was enjoying it. Maybe even a little too much. I took that for a sign to take the next step and while he and Mikey are still making out, I start to unbutton Will’s shirt, kissing and nibbling at every inch of skin I uncovered, making sure to scrape my nails down his chest as I go. The lower I go, the more he tangles his fingers into my hair, pushing me further. Once I reach the waistline of his jeans, nuzzle my nose against the thick hair of his happy trail and look up at him with big eyes.

“Can I?” I ask, with my hands on his thighs, close to his crotch.

“Can you what? C’mon, be a good girl. Use your words.”

Wow, those three months really changed him.

I swallow a little nervously and nod before I try again. “Can I take your cock out? I wanna taste it.”

Waiting for an answer, I watch as Mikey sucks on the side of Will’s neck, making him throw his head back and groan.

“Please… sir?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you can.”

With eager fingers I unbutton his jeans and fumble a little before I manage to pull down the zipper. Already starting to drool with anticipation, I tug at his boxers. He lifts his hips to help me and finally I’m met with the sight of his hard cock springing free.

He is a bit thicker than Mikey, but they’re about the same length. Taking hold of him, I give the head a gentle little kiss before sticking out my tongue to collect the small drop of pre cum leaking from the tip.

“Mmm, good girl,” Will hums and strokes my hair. “Suck on it, c’mon.”

I nod before I take him in my mouth, just the head, suckling on it and toying with it a little with my tongue.

The moan that comes out of his mouth… I’ve never heard anything sexier. It has me squeezing around Mikey unconsciously. 

“Fuuuuuck,” I hear him mutter into Will’s neck. 

The wave of confidence that washes over me at the fact I’m pleasuring not one but two men makes me take Will deeper into my mouth. I hollow my cheeks and press my tongue against the underside of his cock, slowly taking more of him. As I keep bobbing my head up and down his grip on my hair becomes tighter and more and more moans fall from his mouth .

The tingling sensation that spreads through my body from that makes me try to take him even deeper, until I start gagging and my eyes begin to water. By now, my nose is pressing into his hip.

“I can’t… I can’t!” I suddenly hear Mikey wheeze. Will immediately lets go of my hair and I hurry to get off Mikey’s lap.

“What is it?” 

I’m stunned at how calmly Will asks that while I’m staring at a panting Mikey, almost panicking.

“I fucking need…” he wheeses again. Both Will and I stare at him, anxiously waiting for him to continue. “... to get off!” 

I let out a sigh of relief, watching Will chuckle and playfully nudge Mikey with his elbow. The younger man smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head.

“I was serious about it, though. So-” he drags out the word “- can we like… get started?”

 I nod slowly, feeling their eyes on me, and look towards Will for guidance.

“How do you want to do this?” He asks me gently, and I shrug, unsure. “Okay then, c'mere.”

While I get closer, he stands up and rearranges the towel so it covers most of the couch and drapes over the armrest, causing Mikey to jump up as well.

“Now, can you get on your hands and knees for us?” Will nearly coos, still it feels like he’s giving no room for discussion. “Isn’t she such a good girl for us?” I can hear him ask Mikey, now behind my back, and I can only imagine Mikey nodding while giving Will puppy dog eyes. “And you? You’re gonna be a good boy for us and let her suck you off.” Again, no room for discussion.

I shuffle closer to the couch's armrest, balancing my weight on my elbows on it, and give Mikey a reassuring nod. He swallows a little nervously, looking at Will, who's getting into position behind me. I lean forward to give Mike a small kiss to his hip bone, then nuzzle my face against the base of his cock. He cups my cheek with one hand, stroking his thumb across my bottom lip when I lean into him, while his other hand grips the base of his cock. I open my lips a bit and suckle on the tip of his thumb as he gently brings my face and himself into position. He pulls his finger from my mouth and I open my lips wider, giving the tip of his cock a little lick, looking up at him through my lashes to see his reaction. He groans and throws his head back. That’s when I take the head in my mouth and start playing with it with my tongue.

Behind me, Will puts a hand on my hip to hold me steady, with the other, he grabs is cock and swipes it up and down on my lips, coating himself in my juices.

“Fuck, you’re so wet!” He groans and pushes in a little. I let out a moan around Mikey’s cock, making him shiver in response. Will slowly keeps pushing in, a deep moan escaping him once he bottoms out. I can only whimper around Mikey’s cock, feeling so full already. 

“Now just stay still, baby, we’ve got you,” Will says, if a little bit strained. I nod as much as I can and look up at Mikey, who’s still holding my face. He pushes himself a little bit deeper into my mouth. I can still taste myself on him as I suck. Will starts moving, thrusting in a slow and steady rhythm, pushing me down on Mikey’s cock with every time his hips meet mine. Again, I moan around Mikey, whose hands start wandering to my hair and grips it to push himself further down my throat. My eyes begin to water when Will picks up the pace, making me take Mikey even deeper. The room is filled with the beautifully filthy sounds of the two men groaning in erotic harmony, skin slapping on skin and my strangled moans as I gag around Mikey’s cock.

“You’re being so good, bunny,” Mikey praises, breathing heavily. “So good for us,” Will adds. “Letting us use you like a little slut.” I can’t help but whimper at that, squeezing around Will’s cock. 

“Oh? Did you like that?” Will leans down closer to my ear, whispering, “You like it when I call you slut?” I nod as much as I can with Mikey in my mouth. “You’re so filthy. Nothing more than a toy for us to use.”

He fucks me harder, making me whimper and take Mikey even deeper. Tears are beginning to stream down my face, but it all feels so good. I can’t help but clench around him, the coil in my belly starting to tighten. 

So it takes me by surprise when Will suddenly slows to a stop. A little out of breath he says, “This isn’t it. Let’s take this to the bedroom.” 

Mikey nods, pulling from my mouth and Will picks me up, carrying me over to the bedrooms. My mind is far too lazy to see whose bedroom we end up in when Will tosses me onto the bed with a bounce.

“Let your head hang over the edge. Yes, just like this, good girl.”

I watch upside down as Mikey kneels down by my head, positioning himself. I open my mouth widely, obediently and he pushes his cock back into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I start sucking on him again as Will climbs up over me, kneels on the bed and grabs my thighs. He doesn’t make me wait long and thrusts back in in one smooth movement. I moan loudly around Mikey’s cock when he bottoms out, finally feeling full again. Complete, in a sense.

Before he begins to thrust, though, he pulls my hips up onto his legs, making me arch my back and take Mikey deeper down my throat. All three of us moan in sinful harmony, skin slapping and wet slurping composing a filthy melody of bliss. With the new angle, I can feel the burning coil tightening faster as the tip of Will’s cock strokes all the spots perfectly, the base of him rubbing against my clit. My moans rise in pitch, even muffled by Mikey fucking my face. His hips begin to stutter, he’s close as well. Will, of course, notices that and picks up his pace, fucking me faster.

Fuck! This feels so good!

Mikey’s groans mix with little gasps as I feel him twitch. He’s close, I can tell. I use my tongue to play with him, eliciting little whimpers from him.

“S-sir, ‘m so close… can I cum? Please?” Mikey begs between little gasps and whines.

“Go a-head,” Will tells him, his own voice strained as well. I brace myself, sucking Mikey harder. A few more thrusts into my mouth and he stills, whimpering loudly as his warm load hits my tongue. I swallow it down eagerly, but gasp when he pulls out of my mouth. I take a few deep breaths as I watch him stand and jerk himself, another, smaller load landing on my chest.

“Fuuuck,” he groans.

“Good boy,” Will praises him, doubling his efforts now, fucking me even harder. His hand comes up to my chest, grabbing and kneading my tits for a moment before swiping two fingers through Mike’s cum and bringing those fingers down to my clit, drawing slow but firm circles around the little bud. I cry out, clenching hard around him. The coil keeps growing tighter until it… Snaps. With a high pitched moan, I fall over the edge, white hot bliss carrying me as my body writhes in pleasure. Through a haze I can hear Will groan and feel a warmth spreading inside me. I open up my eyes to see him hovering above me, dipping his head down to meet my lips in a passionate kiss. I kiss him back eagerly, letting our tongues fight for dominance until we need to stop for air. Will sits up again, reaches out an arm and pulls in Mikey for a just as passionate kiss. I watch them, a satiated smile on my face. I get up on my knees, squeezing between them to kiss their necks and chests alternately. Once the part, the three of us collapse on the bed naked and panting, a tangled mess of limbs. 

“You know…” Mikey breathes heavily, “we were going to throw you a welcome home partly…”

Will chuckles at that, “You still could…”

I just shake my head, giggling. “Let’s just order pizza.”

[misc-obeyme]

CC I'M SO EXCITED, I FINALLY GOT ENOUGH CONFIDENCE TO COMMISSION THINGS FROM PEOPLE (it's like three different people AJDJWJF)

but the prices are good, two of the people needed it for emergency money so it was a good push to bite the bullet and message them. I'm so happy, I'm gonna have art of me and Mammon (and one is gonna be a sketch page of me, mammon, and a friend who also likes obey me). Also i lost my drawing streak, but I just drew a bunch of random poses today for fun, so it makes up lmaoo.

anyway I am here to ramble about the job my mc/I would have in the Devildom! definitely got roped into working at the bunny cafe for one (1) shift with Mammon (the daily chat is what gave me this idea).

Not sure how the cafe works, but in the anime, Beel is working the bar lolol. So I always imagined it as a bar with some food, and you could request certain servers by paying extra, and obviously give them carrots or tips. Like a mix between a maid cafe and a club I suppose is what I'm thinking?? (...Hooters? I've never been)

anyway I totally got coerced bullied into working a shift (I am always caving when it comes to Mammon </3). And my anxiety is terrible, I CANNOT talk to people (it's a wonder how I'm a manager), so I'd definitely stick to bussing tables and helping run super big orders with one of the guys. Maybe even have Beel teach me to make some drinks, because that seems really fun. Basically completely avoiding any kind of one on one service.

And I think there's been chats or devilgrams about mc gaining popularity and having a fan club, so imagine all these patrons requesting me, and the owner has to be like "unfortunately - no." And then someone is like, "I'll pay an extra $100 just to have her" and that's when the owner decides to ask if I'd be willing. Because it doesn't hurt to ask, right?

And I'm like, "Ha! I'd do it for $250", and like, I say it as a joke, but imagine Mammon overhears everything. He'd drag me to the table and say my price, and to everyone's surprise, the demon agrees to pay. Now everyone is like 👁️👁️ interesting.

and now I'm suddenly serving a random demon, and I'm nervous as hell (HA), and I'd honestly spill their drink or something on them. The bill comes, come to find they tipped way over 20%, and wrote a note about hoping to have me again. Now I've singlehandedly paid back a big chunk of Mammon's debt.

now THAT would change my mind real quick. I would do anything for money, I'm so easily convinced 💀 like imagine how much cash I could make in one shift. Anxiety who ??

It ends up becoming a part time gig, and I become the owner's favorite. I learn the bar for fun, and can be requested as a server for a big fee. I'd like to imagine Mammon works extra hard to earn the owner's favor and begs to work the same shifts as me (little does he know I request to work with him bc he makes me feel safe, especially if people get way too drunk)

I've literally brainstormed about this so much, and I've still got more ideas rattling in my brain, SORRY IT GOT SO LONG AAA

- ✨ anon

WOOO!! Congrats, ✨ anon! You are braver than I lol! I've been trying to work up the courage for months, but I keep talking myself out of it. Mostly because I want to commission art of my OCs and I feel absolutely ridiculous asking someone to please spend hours drawing this silly guy from my head lol. It's a me problem, I'll get over it one day. Anyway, I'm sure your commissions will turn out amazing! I hope you enjoy them!

OMG what but I love this idea!! Listen, I have the social anxiety, too (it's so bad wow), so I get it. But I looove that you've got things that help you work this job despite that! Mammon and Beel to count on when you need support and of course the motivation of just... making money!

And it's so sweet that you're making the money to help cover Mammon's debts. And I love that both of you are like... requesting to work together and the other person is unaware of it. That's adorable!

I'm always going to recommend writing your ideas down! It doesn't have to be story-style, sometimes just getting them out of your head in some form really makes a big difference! Especially if it's something you've never told anyone or written down before. Forcing yourself to articulate ideas in a way that would make sense to someone else (even if no one else ever sees it) really helps to make ideas more solid. Then you can expound on them even more! It's a never ending cycle for me lol.

Anyway, I love all of this, I think it's fantastic.

For my part, I'd absolutely be bunny-ing it up at the bar with Beel. I like the idea of him making Devildom drinks and MC making human world ones. The demons that are willing to pay top dollar for MC to wait on them are also willing to pay top dollar for MC's authentic human world drinks! Now you're really rolling in the Grimm!

[siennadraws]

3, 14, 22 for the otp asks?

Hi Ronnie!!

You know this, but for anyone reading, I'm answering with Terys and Solas in mind! For obvious reasons jdjsjs

Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

Probably not clothes, but definitely things like jewelry, cloaks/shawls/scarves etc.

Actually, back in Inquisition, Terys did give her spare scarf to Solas. Whether he chose to keep it this past decade is a mystery ;). But the old sap probably did. It's in the same memento box as his Orlesian bard wig.

How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

Well, first off: they're very stubborn in their own ways.

Terys is definitely more of a team player, having grown up dalish, but also, while there was room for disagreements (they where even encouraged), her beliefs never ended up drifting far away from her clan's.

It makes them clash a lot (mostly at the beginning) but it's also what allows them to grow. Anyone else would have a hard time changing either of their minds about something. But since they respect one another a lot, and have the mental stamina to just die on their hills, eventually they do yield to each other.

Solas' lone wolf shtick, however, does annoy the living shit out of Terys.

Disclaimer: she is a master of pushing people away when she thinks it's necessary, so she is an hypocrite.

But Solas is the one person she'll never be capable of pushing away (especially because he does that with her already), and when he's around she softens up and stops needing to push people away.

Regardless, it annoys her a lot when he... how do I say this? Because he doesn't mistrust her, it's just that he walks the Dinan'shiral alone... when he doesn't trust her with uh... information.

If after Inquisition (ok, maybe some months afterwards, to give her a breather) he turned to her and explained everything and asked for her help, she'd definitely go: "Ok, I'm 100% with you, lethallin. But let's do this in the most careful way possible, together. We can find a middle ground."

She just thinks it would be easier for everyone if they just worked as a team, instead of two people who sometimes have the same goals goals.

Terys is also very thirsty for knowledge (insert pun about drinking from the Well of Sorrows here) and Solas is always happy to either try to explain how his magic works, or telling about this or that vision in the Beyond. Teaching anything really.

But Solas does love how much Terys loves and is fascinated by magic. It of course saddens him a lot too. Magic should be her birthright, by all means- not a silly little childhood dream she could never quite shake off.

What reminds each of their partner?

Everything.

When Terys goes to sleep and dreams as a Dreamer. When she hears any story about Elvhenan. When she sees magic, or a mirror. When she looks at her arm that's no longer there. When she sees a elvhen painting blending with the nature, or against an Alienage wall. When she smells something just like the oil he massaged into his locs. When she sees something as violet as his eyes.

When Solas is sheltered by the shadows that hid her oh-so-well. When he walks by a forest, reminding himself of all the stories about her life she told him. When he sees a raven, like the one on her face. When he sees any Vallaslin, now, he realizes, more hers than any slave owner before her. When he uses charcoal on his frescoes or when a small detail calls to him, reminding him of the drawings that filled her notebooks. When his magic glitters green, like the Veil, but miraculously, by some trick of fate, the exact color of her eyes.

[clara02]

The Christmas Sugar Cookie War.

(Aegon Targaryen x reader)

Prologue: It’s the most wonderful time of the year… When you are not at war.

author’s note: hiiiii. The epilogue of the Christmas fic it’s finally here! A few disclaimers before we start:

1. This is a modern au, so things are a little different if compared to the show. Also this Aegon it’s completely headcanon, and not the same as the show. So take that into consideration before starting your read.

2. English is not my first language, and this is the first time I’ve actually written something in English (aside from homework assignments)

3. This is also my first time posting on tumblr, so I’m still getting the hang of it.

(Y/N) hated the Targaryens.

Actually… It is a well-known fact that everyone hates the Targaryen family. The thing is, most people hated them because of their money, their social status, how their empire allowed them to control the city of King’s Landing and their influence reached the entirety of Westeros, granting them impunity. It is an unspoken rule. They are in charge, and no one will ever change that.

(Y/N) however, hated them for totally different reasons. Every year, on Christmas Eve, the city of King’s Landing hosted a Christmas sugar cookie competition, allowing the families in Westeros to bake their original recipes and compete for the mighty trophy. Her own family had dozens of them displayed all throughout the house, and they were very proud of their winning recipe. But their luck changed twenty-one years ago, when the all-powerful Viserys Targaryen married Alicent Hightower. With the merging of the two families’ recipes, they haven’t lost one single competition, leading (Y/N)’s family to second place every year. (Y/N) herself, being a young girl of only twenty years of age, has been deprived of seeing her family in their rightful place.

Sometimes she wondered if the reason behind the marriage between families wasn’t simply to make sure they would win the competition. It was a silly thought, she knew, but Alicent and Viserys weren’t necessarily affectioned with each other and considering how the Targaryens took the competition seriously and how Otto was a man considered ambitious beyond limits, she wouldn’t put past them.

Anyways, the lack of glory, succeeded by the felling of shame and humiliation had started to get to her. Anger sipping through her bones. She was tired of seeing their shit-eating grins after they were announced winners once more. She couldn’t let them win this year. That’s why she needed to prepare for war. She was ready to draw blood.

And that’s exactly what she was telling her best friend, Myra Arryn, while sitting at their favorite café, clutching the cup of coffee so tight, her knuckles turned white.

She heard a breathy laugh:

-That’s what you say every year. – Her friend said. -You always tell yourself you are going to do something about those Targaryen bastards, and every year you do nothing. You just show up and hope for the best.

-I don’t do nothing! – (Y/N) placed one hand at her chest, offended by her friend’s suggestions. – Me and my family work hard for months improving our recipe. We sharp our skills and deliver amazing cookies!

-If you really want to win this, you need to start sharpening knives. – her friend whispered under her breath, acting like this was just some casual advice.

-What do you mean? – (Y/N) said, confused.

-You can’t seriously expect to win this fair and square?! – Myra looked outraged. – Honestly… That’s such a naive thought! You need to start playing dirty. Even if, by some Christmas miracle, you end up baking cookies that are better than the Targaryen ones, who guarantees those cunts won’t bribe the judge?

- They wouldn’t. – (Y/N) eyes big as saucers, shocked at the thought.

- C’mon. You give those fuckers more credit than they deserve. – The Arryn girl said, playing with the straw of her milkshake. – If you really mean war, then you need to start considering all your options. Really mess with them. You know what they say… All is fair in war.

- I thought you Arryn’s were all about honor…

(Y/N) heard her friend scoff at that.

-Don’t bring my father’s weird philosophy into this. That man doesn’t know how to live. – Suddenly her friend’s posture changed. Her spine so straight, it looked like it was about to snap. Her eyes livid, shining with opportunity. – So… Are you really going to do this?!

- Do what? – The girl’s voice sounding squeakier that she would have liked.

- Mess with them? Destroy your competition from the inside out! Give them a taste of their own poison.

It sounded like a bad idea. Listening to Myra always ended up in chaos. (Y/N) should know better by now. She should do what was right and honorable and…

She then remembered Daemon’s comments from last year, mocking her family and suggesting that trying again would be useless. How she heard the conveniently loud whispers coming out of Aemond Targaryen’s mouth, saying that showing up just to fail was simply humiliation.

How her grandmother looked so disappointed. And how her ten-year-old sister, participating for the first time, cried her heart out after the disdain displayed by her “rivals”.

Fuck being nice.

-What do you suggest?

Myra granted her a Cheshire cat smile.

-Choose a weak link and destabilize them. The competition is a group activity. If they’re not in sync, then BOOM, they’re gone.

-Easier said than done. Those guys are good.

Arryn seamed to stop for a moment.

-Go for the obvious one! You know… - She insinuated making a few gestures.

-Viserys doesn’t participate anymore, due to his age and condition. – (Y/N) said and watched as her friend opened her mouth once more. – Don’t even waste your time suggesting the big three. Alicent, Rhaenyra and Daemon might not see eye to eye, but if one thing brings them together it’s the satisfaction of winning. They are a well-put-together front.

Her friend quickly closed her mouth.

A few more seconds passed by, and Myra grabbed her phone opening Instagram.

-What about the Velaryon boys? I heard they are chaos walking. – She quickly showed a picture of Jace, Luke and Joffrey playing baseball in what looked like a backyard.

- Next to Christmas they always travel to visit one of their grandparents. Either that be in Harrenhal or Driftmark. – both girls exchanged glances at the complicated marriages of Rhaenyra. – They don’t actually partake.

- Well… That lives us with fewer options. Aemond is a rock. The guy’s a mystery. No social media profiles and a total of zero close friends. Even if we tried to destabilize the stone-cold bitch, it would be like taking a shot in the dark. – Myra took a dramatic long breath. – We could try Helena.

- It would be hard to get close to her… We don’t share common interests. Besides, she normally just helps with decorations and setting the plates. We would depend on a shit ton of luck. You said yourself. Shooting in the dark will only get us so far.

Starting to lose hope, (Y/N) sunk herself on the cushioned chair. She would probably lose again.

-Wait. – Myra once more sported shinning eyes. – What about him?!

Suddenly (Y/N) found herself staring at Aegon Targaryen’s profile. It was filled with blurry pictures of what looked like frat parties. In the ones she could actually see clearly, the boy sported messy hair, lots of marks on the neck and looked extremely fucked up. His habits weren’t a secret, of course. She went to high school with him. Never once she talked with the boy. Him, also being a year older helped, since they didn’t share any classes. But the number of times he showed up drunk or high to school was no joke. If he had any other last name, he would have been expelled without second chances. But Viserys always cleaned his messes with a good donation.

-This plan is a lost cause. – (Y/N) returned the phone to her friend. -I’ve seen him show up with what looked like the worst hungover and still, they delivered the perfect sugar cookies.

-No! – her friend practically screamed. – He is perfect! Look at this. The fuckboy born in the golden crib. The rich guy that never once took responsibility and now lives the frat style life. This type is so easy to break. Believe me when I tell you. They are touch-starved messes. You can make them fold fast; I have experience with the specimen.

Silence.

-I don’t fully understand what you are suggesting, Myra.

- Well, I’m obviously suggesting you make this guy fall in love with you and then break his heart right before the competition!

(Y/N) started laughing. An incredulous laugh. So high it sounded almost maniac.

It died down when she realized her friend wasn’t laughing with her.

-You can’t be serious?! – Again, her friends face was stoic. – For the Seven’s sake Myra. This is the most absurd thing you have ever said! Aegon?! The frat guy that doesn’t settle down is going to magically fall in love with me?! Guys like him don’t do love. They do one-night stands. Let’s call off the plan.

-Hear me out. This is the perfect opportunity! He will fall in love with you. And guys like him? Once their heart breaks? They don’t bounce back.

-This is the craziest theory I’ve ever heard. – (Y/N) motions to live her seat.

-Have you ever watched a Christmas movie, (Y/N)? Christmas time makes people prone to falling in love. They simply take in the setting and decide they want their lives changed. Every cliché Christmas movie that stars with a bad boy ends up with him changed into a nice guy.

-You are basically building this plan on your Hallmark movie knowledge? Maybe you should tone your pop culture faith down a bit. – (Y/N) says, still not convinced.

-Look. Guys like him?! They are lucky enough if they were hold twice when they were babies. They are touch-starved! They go for easy and fast satisfaction in the form of one-night stands, but they always crave more. All we must do it’s strip him away of the frat house mentality. With your sweet charms and nice words, it won’t be hard. Guys like him fall for girls like you. Besides, as I said, the Christmas environment will be of your advantage. You will have the perfect excuses to lead him into romantic settings without making your intentions obvious.

Myra saw that for the first time since suggesting the plan (Y/N) seemed conflicted.

-With help, this will be like a walk in the park. And I’m not saying your goal is to make him your lifelong sweetheart. You won’t have to fake it for that long. By Christmas Eve you will be done, and his heart will be broken. He will be so helpless, there’s no way he won’t fuck up the recipe.

-How are we going to get help? – (Y/N) asked, her friends enthusiasm getting to her.

-Please… We are not the only two people in King’s Landing that would love to see the Targaryens suffering. Bolton will be up, and with his stalking skills we won’t have problems. And for someone on the inside… I heard Val, the youngest Lannister, is looking for payback.

(Y/N) breathed deeply.

-It seems like we are all set then. – She tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Myra suddenly energetic, standing up and making a toast motion, with her now watery milkshake.

-To Christmas War! Let’s destroy those fuckers!

[hereforlou]

bad buddy fandom getting-to-know-you meme!

I was tagged by @dudeyuri to answer these BB related questions by @fiercynn Thank youuu <3 these are always fun but I often forget to do them u_u

note: i consider "fanworks" to pretty much everything people create related to a fandom, including but not limited to meta/analysis/discussion, gifs, fanvids/edits/fancams, filk, fanart, fanfic, fan food, fan crafts, etc. please include this note with the meme unless you have a different definition

name and whatever you want to share about yourself

I’m Maggie (Magui), from Argentina, in my 30s, just enjoying the creative burst this show (which I love very, very much) gave me until it petters out. I’ve been in a loOOooOOoot of fandoms under different usernames over the years and I tend to delete stuff from the internet without much warning, so save what you like (but don’t repost, please!)

when did you watch bad buddy/join the fandom?

I watched it from episode 1 as it aired and could feel the brain rot spreading week after week but didn’t write fic until the day after the last episode came out, and I don’t think I posted any drawings until one or two months later? But I have the first couple of doodles I made on an old sketchbook after the first ep! (note I needed to write their names to remember what they were)

favorite ship(s)

PatPran and InkPa

favorite character(s)

I really can’t choose so I’ll say Nong Nao.

favorite episode(s)

I have a soft spot for ep 11 - running away together to a safe place, both trying to understand each other, the silly guy scene, Our Song, the imaginary montage at the end, the memory of watching it for the first time and being sucker punched by the ep 12 preview??? perfect all around x_x

favorite scene(s)

Off the top of my head (and in chronological order): the trashcan scene in ep 1, the bus stop role-play, rooftop kiss, the last scene/montage in ep 7, the simultaneous parent confrontation and rooftop meeting in ep 10, the silly guy convo at the beach, the last scene with the tin cans on ep 12 ;_;

one thing you would change about the show if you could

I think everyone answered the same thing but the whole Wai conflict and how they resolved it (including maybe Pat getting shot, though at this point would it really be BBS without Pat getting shot?)

what are your some of your favorite fanworks made by other people? 

I'll stick to people instead of particular fanworks, and only those I know for sure are on Tumblr so I can tag them, I'm really sorry if I forget someone!!

@architectxengineer @kit-teung @kornswasianguyswag @miscellar @dimplesandfierceeyes @yourunwiththewolves @icouldhyperfixatehim @fiercynn @charthanry @isaksbestpillow @pransobrave @faillen @jemmo @snickerdoodlles @alexshenry @nanons @mantrisanu

(if you create fanworks) what are your favorite fanworks that you’ve made?

Have I shown you the fridge magnets I made over a year ago? They’re pretty wonky but I think they're cute, considering I don’t know what I’m doing

a song that makes you think of bbs (the ones in the show don’t count lol)

I'll tag the same people I mentioned above, if you haven't done it and want to:

@architectxengineer @kit-teung @kornswasianguyswag @miscellar @dimplesandfierceeyes @yourunwiththewolves @icouldhyperfixatehim @fiercynn @charthanry @isaksbestpillow @pransobrave @faillen @jemmo @snickerdoodlles @alexshenry @nanons @mantrisanu

[sroloc--elbisivni]

bunnyguard reflection

in the spirit of 'fuckit it's my own blog i can be sappy if i want to' as well as 'this took a year and 78k and i get to keep talking about it for at least one more day' now and here is the time and place for personal yap that did not go in the last author's note.

preliminarily speaking, i had this concept in mind before I'd finished either the usagi yojimbo comics OR watching Rise. i spent so much of both of those series fishing out little moments and choices by leo and usagi that made me go 'oh my god i NEED these guys to meet, i need to watch them bounce off each other.' I kept collecting snips of ideas, and dialogue, and encounters that never quite all panned out or fit together because this was just so much fun for me to play in. I had a lot of wanting to turn this into a real story but no concrete frame to build it on, and then in january i saw the year of the otp prompts go by. and went 'oh haha that looks fun.' it was even the year of the rabbit. and then i went 'oh!! what if i did VIGNETTES for these!!' and then less than three days later the Battle Nexus as political element of the Hidden City, complete with connections to the very different other iteration of it that we'd seen, fell into place and suddenly this silly little whim was an actual big project staring me down with an ambitious goal in mind, and I had no idea if I could pull it off.

structuring it as a month by month thing was something i'd never done before. it forced me to wait to find out what would happen, to keep building to something that didn't exist yet, to lay down the track while I was driving the train. and at the same time, it gave me space to grow, to practice putting together a beginning, middle, and end every month. and it gave me something to look forward to, and the excitement of dropping in threads that wouldn't pay off for months, and watching as it went to see what the audience reaction would be. were people getting out of it the things i wanted to give them? was i hitting the notes i wanted? i had the sketch of the year, but i was still learning what was going to happen until the moment the last word hit the page. plot and character choices, but also big thematic stuff! i described November's fic as 'the ten of swords' to Space and then went 'wait a fucking second' and realized that I could draw a connection, in order, between each fic and a numerical card of tarot's suit of swords. (mostly one-to-one --october straddles 9-10, and December loops us back around to the Ace of swords, for new beginnings.) i couldn't have done that on purpose. if i'd had that thought in january i would have gone 'no that's too pretentious and too hard' and avoided it.

also!! this has been a year of my life!! over the course of this series, i've had four different living situations (that lasted longer than a week), two different jobs, and gone back to school. i had to change meds, which was an anxious ordeal in 'am i even going to be able to focus on anything now?' the cat that was purring on my lap while i worked on the first few months has now passed away. this fic kept me company on the flight for my move to a different continent. it kept me sane in the middle of a very stressful summer. it's helped me meet and get closer to some really cool people. i can FEEL how it's made me a stronger writer.

and on top of all that: i am deeply, genuinely, truly proud of this series. i'm glad i wrote it. i'm amazed at how it's turned out. i can see things i would change if i did it over, but i'm glad i won't be. i'm glad this is the way it exists. and i am utterly blown away that there are people who told me they were looking forward to it every month, that they've been following it since the beginning, that they like what i've done with this place. this is the longest-term project i've ever done. it's the most words i've ever put into a single narrative. i can't believe it's never going on my wip rotation again. whadda hell.

i have no idea if i'll ever do anything like this again. i hope it won't be anytime soon--there are other things i want to do in the meantime. but god, am i glad i did it.

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

April fools

Substituting Horo's milk stash with either water that has white food colouring or buttermilk. Or changing the expiration dates to like a whole month ago.

Stealing Hella's pipe and making it obvious that it was stolen and make her chase to a dead end.

Everyone in the MBCC gets silly little plastic duckies hidden everywhere in their stuff for them to find.

Pranking Rime by replacing all his snacks and stuff with hay bcs that's what deers eat or drawing a lil silly thing on his face

It would be difficult to prank any of the ptn mommies but it would be funny to try.

Ohhh, messing with Irons medical supplies would be funny. Like. Nonessential stuff to be switched up.

Ill probably be back if I get some other ideas

Two contents in one day? Shocking! So I'm finally doing this a whole month later because.... well, motivation is weird. Anyway.

Enjoy your ptn pranks! They're a lil short but hopefully you like it anyway... I was looking for something easier to try and get back into writing, heh.

I switched the last two, to group things a little bit better by fandom... and I have no idea what you could even try to do with the Mommies, so I just did the specified pranks.

Prank #1: Substituting Horo's milk stash with either water that has white food colouring or buttermilk. Or changing the expiration dates to like a whole month ago.

Horo is. Not gonna be happy. At all.

If you switch them, she takes a sip innocently and then gets the most comedic look of shock on her face. If it's water she might recognize the prank and just swallow it, but if you switch it with buttermilk, she's likely just gonna immediately spit it out because what the hell is that

If you change the expiration dates she might not notice immediately, depending on when you do it... I feel like she checks them religiously when they first arrive, but after that, not as much. Truthfully, this prank will not work very well, because she either doesn't notice or throws out perfectly good milk. Listen. Listen. As someone who drinks a lot of milk. You learn to pick up on changes in it instantly. I promise you, if that is all she drinks, she will notice the second it starts going bad. If she's actively drinking it and notices the expiration date is that far back, she's likely to suspect the prank.

Anyway prepare for vengeance either way, especially if you swap it out. She's going to be a little ball of fury for a little bit, but after she calms down, she's going to plan a good prank for revenge, so... pray she doesn't find out it was you.

Prank #2: Stealing Hella's pipe and making it obvious that it was stolen and make her chase to a dead end.

Something something little ball of rage... sounds familiar. Maybe don't prank Horo and Hella on the same day?

She pretty immediately swears to make whoever stole her pipe pay dearly, and is intent on getting it back. Very little will deter her from this task. Don't even ask her to go on a mission until she gets it back.

Ninety-Nine helps her hunt for it, because of course she does. Which makes it even more nerve-wracking if you were to be caught.... good luck.

Someone will inevitably offer to replace her weapon, and she'll reply, as always, that she doesn't want or need anything else. Her pipe was perfect, and she will get it back.

The longer it takes to hunt it down, the more frustrated she gets. Hella does not have the most patience, after all... She's probably cussing like mad and threatening to use her pipe to kill whoever stole it once she finds them.

If she learns it was you, she won't follow through on those threats... but she will be dramatic about it, and will very obviously pout and ignore you for a day or two until she naturally gets bored of it. If you want her back to normal faster, bribes of money and candy will work... even if she insists they don't at first.

Prank #3: Everyone in the MBCC gets silly little plastic duckies hidden everywhere in their stuff for them to find.

Now this is gonna be fun!

The reactions range from thrilled affection to fury. Many of the Sinners 'adopt' the little duckies, and carry them around with them or craft a little makeshift nest for the duckies in their rooms.

Many ducks get names, and several Sinners immediately get customizing with paint and markers. Likewise, Hecate suddenly becomes extremely popular, after she logically begins to paint the duckies she found in her room to match the Chief and other Sinners. By the end of the day, she has a list of orders, a small mountain of duckies overflowing the basket beside her, and an assortment of things she's been given as payment, from money to trinkets to art supplies. She'll spend the next week painting the little ducks in a myriad of different ways, and she seems quite content.

Unfortunately some ducks are, inevitably, viciously destroyed the moment they're found... looking at you, Wendy. Poor thing thinks they're corruptors, most likely....

A lot of them don't really care, they just chuckle a little when finding more, and either put the duckies in one spot in their room or give them to other Sinners. Most of these Sinners keep at least one, though, because they are adorable.

Several of them turn it into a competition. I'm assuming that, in addition to hiding the duckies in the Sinner's rooms/belongings, maybe some were scattered throughout the Bureau.... well, now the hunt is on, and there's a massive competition to see who can get the most. The main competitors are Hella and EMP, but OwO actually wins. She claims it's due to luck, but at least a little has to do with charming other Sinners out of their duckies... and also being able to hunt freely while Hella and EMP try to hinder one another. She keeps them all in her lion's head.

Wolverine doesn't quite know what to do with them, but Pippy loves them. Cute little badger loves playing with them, and ends up with many duckie toys.

Nightingale ends up with a little duckie painted in her likeness (or at least, with her uniform) given to her by Hecate, and, in a somewhat uncharacteristic show of her more relaxed, fun side, glues a magnet to the bottom of it and sticks it to her shoulder, occasionally consulting the "Assistant Adjutant" duck for advice.

All in all a very good time is had by all, and this likely becomes something of a ritual for April Fool's Day. People used to go on Easter egg hunts... the Sinners go on April Duckie hunts!

Prank #4: Ohhh, messing with Irons medical supplies would be funny. Like. Nonessential stuff to be switched up.

Do you want to die?

For the love of god make sure Anne is around. She's probably the only one who can save you.

Iron detests her mania research being interfered with. She is very busy, and most definitely does not approve of this.

If she notices when she has time to spare, she will stop work and painstakingly reorganize her supplies. If not, though... she goes through with whatever procedure she needs to do, grumbling the entire time about the mess. And then she will fix it.

You'd better hope that she doesn't find out you did it, because if so, you're going to have to pay her back for this. If she finds out quickly enough, you'll be the one putting everything back in place, likely with a very grumpy Iron 'babysitting' and instructing you on where everything goes.... or, if you're unlucky, a simple instruction to return everything to its rightful place before leaving you on your own. Fortunately most things are labeled, but unfortunately, she is very particular and will inspect your work when you're done. If she finds out after she's fixed things herself, she'll insist upon you being her assistant in the future, which could entail anything from helping her move unconscious/paralyzed patients to doing strenuous tests as her sample test subject. Good luck!

Prank 5: Pranking Rime by replacing all his snacks and stuff with hay bcs that's what deers eat or drawing a lil silly thing on his face

He's extremely grumpy and will pretend this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him, but he actually finds it hilarious.

Seriously, though, he loves his snacks, and goes to great lengths to ensure that he never runs out of them. Waking up one day to find his entire stash not only gone, but meticulously replaced with similarly-shaped bits of hay and leaves? Yeah. Not happy.

He immediately swears vengeance on whoever has done this. And immediately blames Sage, probably, both because he's the prime suspect and because Rime just... enjoys the excuse to fight with him. Eventually Sage will convince him that he had no idea where the stash even was, and that he'd have stolen snacks long before now if he had, and Rime moves to other suspects.

He practically does a full detective investigation to find out where his precious, precious treats have gone.

If/when he finds out it was you, he'll be quite annoyed, but... so long as the snacks are returned, he will forgive. Eventually. He'll definitely think up a task or three for you to do to make it up to him, though... or, worse yet, he'll forgive you far too quickly and you'll spend the next week paranoid about what he's planning before he inevitably catches you off guard anyway with some ridiculously-detailed prank of his own design. You'll probably end up trapped and/or portaled somewhere, given enough of a fright that he feels you've paid for your thieving ways.

[happiighost]

Tagged game thingy (•‿•)

I was tagged by my friend @westmansion!! I love answering these silly things!

Are you named after anyone?

My actual name was just one my mother liked. I know my middle name came from one my favorite aunts. Said aunt has seen me off through lot major parts of my life and had my back. So its fitting

When was the last time you cried?

About two months ago, very uncertain of my future. When the path I wanted to be on didn’t happen. I’m gonna give it one more try and not give up yet.

Do you have kids?

No I do not! I wouldn’t mind having them one day in the far far future (via adoption or as a foster parent). I work with kids a lot at my job and they’re just silly little people with so much to say/share. 

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

With my family for joking around. Same goes for stuff at work with coworkers. It always pretty clear I’m just goofing off though.

What sports do you play/have you played?

I never really played or enjoyed sports much! The only ones I enjoy is biking or  swimming. 

What's the first thing you notice about other people?

Hair for some reason and clothing style! (a lot my friends like punk clothing the more think about it lol)

Eye colour?

warm brown. I do like wearing color contacts a lot though! I already need to my vision corrected why not have some colorful fun with it if I can!

Scary movies or happy endings?

I’m a horror junkie, I love all types of horror! But im also a sap for a sweet happy ending! I wont choose! 

Any special talents?

I dunno, does looking like murder scene whenever I paint count? I can climb decently well??? That mainly due to me being short so it's needed.

Where were you born?

I can’t top this response, so I’m stealing it.

What are your hobbies?

Drawing and painting (digital and traditional). Video games. Sewing, mainly making clothes adjustments.

Do you have any pets?

I have one fluffy boi! 

How tall are you?

I’m 4′11″ : (

Fave subject in school?

I like kinesiology and anatomy a lot. If I went back and took those classes sooner I might have changed my major!

Dream job?

medical illustrator/animator!

Alrighty time to tag! If those I tag don't wish to do this, feel free to ignore this post! 

@youngerfrankenstein  @wild-moss-art @kimikaami​ @fourspiceblend​ @hydrostorm​

[animatedaf]

It’s that time of year again, time to look over the last twelve months of creative productivity! This was my busiest year for freelance animation EVER, with six projects all pretty much one after the other, some of which lasted several months! For the first time in over ten years animation actually felt like my main job! Read on for full details on each month (with links to things in bold)!

January:

I kickstarted the year with an attempt to keep myself busy (haha) by coming up with weekly personal illustrations to work on while livestreaming. This included a couple based on childhood toys, followed by fan art of games I was playing at the time. 

I also started my first freelance gig of the year about visiting a recycling center for Love Essex, which was finished and released in early Feb.

February:

I continued the weekly art streams (though I did skip one week while I was wrapping up the animation work) that included more Balan Wonderworld fan art and another nostalgia trip based around old TV game show Fun House which was seen and approved by Pat Sharp himself!

I also made some Valentine’s day silliness for CherryT and with her help also created this ridiculous Art Data-Blast video featuring all of my art over the years with a 90′s TV inspired intro.

March:

A big turning point for my livestreams arrived here when I decided to create a PNGTuber using Veadotube Mini! I livestreamed the majority of my experimentation and process and the cutdown videos about it became some of my biggest hits on YouTube yet! Going forward I would now use this animated avatar instead of a webcam, though this would actually end up being the last month of the year that I’d have any time to livestream because...

April:

..April would be the start of one of the biggest projects: six one-minute animated shorts for the Scottish Illegal Money Lending Unit about the dangers of loan sharks. This month was spent mostly storyboarding most of the films and completing the first one.

At the same time concepts were being developed for another six-minute piece of animation that I would need to juggle alongside the above project over the coming months!

I should also mention here life-wise I changed my daily job from working in a cinema to...working in a smaller, closer to home cinema!

May:

This month was mostly spent storyboarding for the second big project and waiting around for approval while the Loan Shark project was put on hold, so while I had a bit of spare time I gave my website a new lick of paint (including some new art of old characters) and made several illustrations including my favorite Eurovision 2022 act (now my most popular Tumblr post ever for some reason!), joining in on the Catoon Network CMYK art fad, and fan art of a fellow PNGTuber. I was also commissioned by Jadypie to create some cute animal Twitch emotes!

June:

After two pieces of quick art including another obscure game character and another excuse to draw Amy Rose, me and CherryT took a couple days away to visit the theme park Alton Towers, which I made a travel vlog about! 

The 2nd film for the Stop Loan Sharks series was completed this month and this was when the 2nd big project was given the official go ahead! The six-and a half minute long film has yet to be released and might end up staying in the private sector but it was a pre-birth social work training video for Essex County Council  with a similar subject matter and art style to the Annabelle’s Journey film I made last year. Clips of it can be seen in my latest showreel.

I also drew these guys for some reason.

July:

This month was almost exclusively knuckling down to get the un-released film fully animated. Much like the Annabelle film this was a massive amount of hand-drawn animation squeezed into just over one month! I also made time to do this commission for PCWzrd.

August:

With that long, time-consuming project out of the way it was time to jump back into the Loan Shark films. Two were completed in April and June but I still had four to go, so this month and most of September was day-to-day animating again!

September:

I was getting these Loan Shark films done at a rate of roughly 10 days per film, though the last one took a little longer as it was yet to be storyboarded until now. This project was finally complete midway through the month and released near the end!

Somewhere in the middle of all this I managed to fit in some livestreams of the Sonic Fan Games Expo and some reactions to some gaming events.

In the last week of the month I worked on a pretty exciting commission that I need to stay tight-lipped about for now!

October:

This month was started by wrapping up the above commission and jumping into another, thankfully much shorter 1 minute animation for the English Stop Loan Sharks company that has also not yet seen the light of day, but you can see a short clip of it in my latest showreel. As soon as that was done another big project approached!

November:

This freelance gig started at the end of October and lasted all through November and up until the middle of December! This one has released in January 2023, a short film called What a Waste! 

There was a break at the end of November when me and CherryT went to Birmingham for a few days to finally go to a concert we booked back in early 2020 that kept getting delayed!

Mid-month I also quickly doodled up my OC a couple times.

Above: the moment I finished an 8-week long non-stop project on a to do list!

December:

What a Waste ended up taking longer than I anticipated at around seven or eight weeks total, most likely because it’s quite unlike anything I have done before. After what felt like roughly nine months of almost non-stop animating the last half-month of the year was spent last-minute Christmas shopping and finally chilling out a bit, including going to a local video games expo for the weekend! The last piece of art I did this year was for the Newgrounds Secret Santa.

That was an intense year! I can’t wait till you get to see the stuff that’s not out there yet and in terms of 2023 I do already have a couple things queued up for January so we’ll see how it goes I guess!

Previous years: 2021 - 2020 - 2019 - 2018 - 2017 - 2016

[ikroah]

Wherever I have gone, wherever I've been and gone, wherever I have gone, the blues are all the same —“Blues Run the Game,” Jackson C. Frank (1965)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #23 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding II

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Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own

Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

Let’s talk about two things.

The first thing is burnout. It’s hilarious in retrospect that the notes on the previous issue open with an apology that it’s been three months since the preceding issue, which given that this current hiatus lasted six months, lmao. As I’ve mentioned before and elsewhere, shortly after completing the previous issue of IKROAH, the toll of working on it and other projects so industrially for two years finally caught up with me, and by May I basically had a kind of flip turn where suddenly, I could not stand my own art. More than that, I was repulsed by the very act of drawing, of making. Too many self-imposed deadlines, too many long nights churning comics out in as few sessions of work as possible, too many other things that I wasn’t giving myself enough time for. Something had to give, and when it did, I could barely hold a pencil for months without just getting really angry. I wish that I could say that there was something specific that I did to overcome this feeling, but there wasn’t: I can only attribute wanting to draw again to spending a long time not drawing at all, a time in which I tried to basically forget through disuse all of the bad habits that I’d ingrained about making myself make art. Art is an important hobby and creative outlet to me, but sometimes, you really just need to step away from something for a relatively long time so that you can come back to it with a much healthier mindset. And that’s what I’ve done. Thank you all for being so patient with me during IKROAH’s first real hiatus. There have been “hiatuses” in the past but, for example, one thing that I definitely had to strip out of myself was the anxiety and the guilt that I would feel when IKROAH would go on “hiatus” because more than three weeks or so passed between issues. I had myself on an absolutely insane production schedule for no reason except believing that getting every issue out as fast as possible was paramount. When I first began this comic with issue #1, I thought I could do one issue every two weeks. This was colossally stupid and going in as naive as I did with this mindset was like ingesting a slow-acting poison. IKROAH issues come out whenever they come out and that’s that from now on, and I feel silly because no reader of the comic has ever acted entitled to anything but that anyway.

The second thing I want to talk about is my art itself. My burnout had a point, especially with IKROAH, which is that there are some things about my art that is very frustrating. Did you know that the reason that IKROAH pages are the size that they are (1080 x 1678 px) is because I draw them two-per-sheet-of-paper at 13cm x 21cm each, and 1080 pixels is twice the width of the (possibly outdated) maximum display width of an inline image on the dashboard, and a height of 1678 pixels matches the aspect ratio of the best way that I could digitize my images at the time, which was by taking a picture of my art the best that I could with my phone in good lighting? This was the standard that I set for myself in summer of 2020 and for some reason I decided that it was etched in stone. I made some small improvements over time, such as finally buying a scanner sometime around IKROAH #12, and then changing IKROAH’s dialogue font and switching to digital paneling in #22, but this is going to be the final issue that abides by that old, absurdly small page size. I have finally reached my breaking point in this issue with how it completely prevents me from drawing fine or distant detail, so this is the final issue that is going to be at this size. Were it not for the fact that pre-burnout I hadn’t already drawn the first two pages of this issue and had formatted the paneling and lettering already for this specific size, I probably would have gone bigger already!

IKROAH has been, for the most part, an artistic playground where I’ve honed my skills and experimented with the comic book form gleefully. Compare the art from the first few issues with the more recent ones to see that development in action. But for all of this development and experimentation, why have I felt like page size is unassailable? I can’t tell you for sure what the “new” page size is going to be, because while I have a larger size in mind, it’s another experiment, not a promise of consistency. I used to think that it was easier and faster to work small because smaller art meant less art, but I’m finally sure that it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Now, I’m extremely excited for what a much larger canvas will mean for the look of the comic, and for the rest of Volume 2, I’m sure that you’ll be able to see me experimenting artistically in some way with every issue.

Original Pencils

Unfortunately, due to the way in which this issue was inked, I don’t have the complete original pencils to share with you! I would draw and ink panels one-by-one instead of penciling the whole page first. This is because I my burnout was actually triggered, essentially, by fucking up the inks on the first page after penciling it and feeling sure that I would have to redraw it, and that making me so mad that I couldn’t bear to reapproach my art at all. I didn’t want to make that mistake again, so I went through the rest of the pages with a lot more caution. Still, I can show you some scans.

One major thing that made working on all but the first two pages was finally investing in real non-copy blue pencils instead of blue colored pencils. Real non-copy blue pencils lack the waxiness of colored pencils, making them draw much lighter, erase much cleaner, and generally behave much more like regular pencils that just happen to be blue. It’s been a godsend for my ability to ink more expressively, and I’m experimenting with inking and coloring styles are going to be my favorite part of the rest of Volume 2, because I think that that is something that I want to overhaul the most.

Also, one funny thing: if there was a significant reason why I made Benny’s suite number 1007, I have forgotten it. Just like how I must have forgotten in the writing and penciling of this issue that Benny’s suite is canonically on the thirteenth floor. Oops! Well, not in this canon it’s not.

I do have one complete pencil sketch to show you: IKROAH’s first ever two-page spread! Bang!

Transcript

EXT. THE TOPS CASINO, NEW VEGAS. The Tops’ signature sign shines brightly outside the entrance, brightly even for Vegas.

INT. THE TOPS CASINO, NEW VEGAS. Casino guests hustle and bustle around the main floor, checking in, heading to and from the cashier on the second floor, and mingling. Leaning against a rail overlooking the slightly sunken gaming area is AGNES SANDS. She stares intently and furiously toward the back of the room, where an older man is laughing with a younger man. The younger man is drinking a martini, wears a black-and-white checked suit jacket, and is oblivious to her presence.

AGNES thinks to herself as she watches him.

Hello, Benny.

Her eye narrows.

You’d think that getting shot in the head would be the worst thing to ever happen to somebody, but at this point in my life, I’m genuinely not sure.

On the casino floor, a RED-HAIRED WOMAN seems to accidentally bump into BENNY from behind, knocking his drink out of his hand. It shatters on the ground, and he turns angrily to face her.

When I was six years old, my father died from a bad fall. He was a caravaneer, so they never shipped his body home.

ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY stands in front of Benny, clutching a nearly empty glass of whiskey. She raises her hand up to her faced, shocked and embarrassed. BENNY is just as surprised, and even more so when CASS takes his face in one hand and suggests that he come with her to refill her glass.

My mom was our town’s doctor, so after that, she decided to apprentice me as her nurse. I was still just a kid.

She was right to do it. It takes a long time to learn medicine, and it’s a useful skill. She knew it’d do me good.

CASS hurriedly leads BENNY by the hand toward the casino bar. As the pair brush past AGNES, she pickpockets BENNY’s key, and holds it up to glean the room number from its tag: 1007. Satisfied, she drops the key on the ground, and heads for the elevators. Just behind her, CASS points out that BENNY seems to have dropped his keys, and he reacts with relief.

But she was hard, as a teacher. Maybe even more so as a mother. Maybe she had to be.

AGNES’ elevator slowly ascends. First floor to the tenth.

Maybe I wouldn’t have started messing around with locks if I didn’t get it in my head to act so damn rebellious later on. I broke in somewhere I shouldn’t have. Found something I shouldn’t have. I was thirteen.

I had to put my own face back together right there on the concrete floor. Held it in place with duct tape, and two-hundred year old bandages. Pre-war.*

*As depicted in IKROAH #7 and the IKROAH Vol. 1 Special Delivery companion story, “Scar Tissue.”

Ding! The elevator arrives and the door opens.

I still can’t even shave without getting a cold sweat.

Back on the casino floor, CASS and BENNY have it it off. They’re smiling and laughing at the bar, several drinks deep.

Meanwhile, AGNES stalks toward Room 1007.

My mom was happy I was alive, but didn’t care whether I was okay, if that makes sense. She was always like that.

It’s why we fought when she found out about...me, when the changes from the hormones I’d been sneaking got...unignorable.

The lock is easy to pick for practiced hands. It opens with a CLICK. The door swings open and AGNES stands in the doorway, assessing the area.

I wonder what your mother would think of this. What she must have been like. Whether she’s even alive now. I wonder if she loved you, her baby boy, a killer in cold blood.

Eventually, we fought. Physically, I mean. It was a long time coming. I hit her hard, once, and that was it. It was over.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget what that felt like. Maybe I’m not one to talk.

Time passes.

BENNY returns to his suite and puts his keys in the lock.

I ran away to the NCR after that. I was an adult now, and had to start over. And I needed skills that my mom couldn’t have taught me. I thought I’d be a combat medic, out in the field. But no. No, no. Of course not.

BENNY opens his door, looking exhausted and covered in kiss marks. Looks like somebody really wore him out. He shuffles over to his bedroom.

They shipped me to some do-nothing recon station way up north in California, near Gecko. And from the minute I set foot there, my C.O. fucking hated me.

He abused me, berated me, blamed me, because I took his old friend’s position or something. Stupid petty bullshit like that.

I think that he was sabotaging my medical supplies. Messing with my work, trying to get me discharged.

There’s no other way he could have found my estrogen from home.

BENNY undresses in his bedroom, and then flops onto his bed.

Just another thing for him to scream at me about. Or it would have been.

AGNES enters the bedroom.

Never got any military police after me when I attacked him with a scalpel that night and ran.

Maybe he couldn’t cover up his own bullshit well enough, so he just kept his mouth shut. Doesn’t matter. Lucky me.

AGNES rifles through BENNY’s jacket, which he hung on a coatrack near the door.

I ran to New Reno. I’d deserted. The only job I could get was at a charity clinic run by one of the crime families there, and it was dismal. I couldn’t afford to live.

So I started picking locks again. Pockets, too. Got real good at it, too. You’d know.

AGNES’ eyes fixate on something. She’s pulled it out of his coat.

I was stealing to survive. Same dance, different song. Nevermind my hormones, I needed food and shelter. I’d never felt lower.

The Platium Chip.

I was casing one of the casinos there when I saw a man get glassed. I was still a doctor. Still had that oath. So I went to work, and saved the man’s life right there. His name was Yancy Bishop and he made my life a living hell for six long years.*

*IKROAH #12.

Until I killed him.

Something else catches AGNES’ attention in BENNY’s bedroom. Something on his nightstand. A gun.

He came to me helpless in surgery and I ripped him apart from the inside out, thrilled, exhilarated, terrified of myself.

AGNES approaches the nightstand. She picks up the gun.

And after that...I ran away again. Ran until I got to the Mojave. Ran until I fumbled into being a courier. Making deliveries, always running, but not a doctor anymore, not stealing to survive, just some stability in my life for once. For once. And then:

It’s the same gun that BENNY shot her with.

She turns to face BENNY.

You.

AGNES removes the 9mm bullet that she has been wearing around her neck since she left Goodsprings; a bullet made partly from the lead that was fished out of her own skull.

You are not special.

She loads the gun. As quietly as she can.

I’ve been dealing with people like you my entire life. My mother. My C.O. The Bishops...

...your Khans, McLafferty, the Van Graffs...have I killed more people in the last week than you have in your whole...

AGNES approaches BENNY’s bed. She gets one shot.

...was I the only one, Benny? And you couldn’t even do it right. I clawed out. An ugly life, too ugly to kill, even with a gun to my head. Your gun. This gun.

She raises the gun. She aims with both hands. Bodies are easier to hit than bottles.

Rigged from the start—is that what you’d said? You piece of shit. You look like you have everything, have been given everything. So you just had to rub it in, that night. Didn’t you.

AGNES scowls. Her brow furrows with rage.

Always been too big of a target. Too tall, too wide, too mannish. Never been beautiful. Never even got to be handsome, like you. Then you shoot my eye out, butcher me even more—and all for what? A mail-order tchotchke!?

The gun gleams in the sparse light.

I’m going to fucking kill you.

AGNES’ expression shifts.

I’ve killed so many people to get to you.

Her hands start to shake. The gun is heavy in them.

And...and now I’m going to kill you.

Sweat is beading on her face.

Because of what you did to me. Because I can’t sleep at night. Because of you. I don’t sleep, most nights, because of you.

AGNES grimaces as her whole body trembles.

So I’ll kill you, with the fucking gun you killed me with, then I won’t be so...

The gun. The gun. The gun--

I’ll...I’m—

Her eye is wide with terror.

Oh God.

AGNES stands alone in the dark in the bedroom of the man that she has planned to kill. The gun is in her hands. Tears stream down her face, frozen in grief. The gun is in her hands.

BENNY is awake. He has been awake. He is sitting up in his bed. He is staring at her staring at him.

The gun is in her hands.

AGNES fires the gun.

SFX: BANG

[buoyfriend]

The WoL's Birthday - Choose Your Own Adventure Headcanon

My nameday happened this past weekend (7/1, Cancer baybeee~) so I thought I'd switch things up a bit. Below is a choose your own adventure birthday celebration for the WoL! Pick where you think your WoL would celebrate their nameday (and with whom!)

Note: The scenes depicted take place after the end of 6.0, before 6.1 with a little creative liberty.

The Scions - Sharlayan

Thankfully, the Scions are led not by an Antecedent, but by their trusty secretary and coinkeeper. She knows all, including the namedays of each member of your party.

The details are need-to-know, but given the state of the star's affairs over the last few months, you may have not learned of your surprise party if Tataru had shouted it from the rooftops.

Sharlayan was the most convenient place to meet. Not geographically, of course. Simply because you were already in town for some short-term delivery work.

Though he is attuned to both the Thavnairan and Sharlayan aetherytes, Estinien finds himself queasy at the thought of traveling between the two again. Yet, he makes the journey as it's too late to convince Tataru to hold the celebration elsewhere. Besides, he hadn't the courage to convince Tataru of anything.

On the morning of your nameday, you awake to G'raha already in your room, pacing before a banner and a breakfast picked up from The Last Stand. He had questioned you the night before, attempting to surmise your exact "favorite breakfast" without arousing suspicion.

You are positively spoiled with food for the entire day. Between G'raha and Ameliance, you find yourself slowed down with a full belly and the tastes of rich dishes lingering on your tongue.

Still, your growing list of companions who are, conveniently in town at the same time as you, insist on pulling you by the hand to enjoy all Sharlayan has to offer.

As the day draws to a close, you are brought back to a tavern, to the same patio that you enjoyed a drink with your comrades before your storied trip to the far edge of fate. Everyone, Scions and friends, leap out from behind pillars to bellow "Happy Birthday!"

Despite your best efforts, Alisae and Alphinaud get into the wine. It is quite a sight. Alisae has been disarmed, thank gods. Forchenault is aghast and would like to take them home to reprimand them, but Ameliance would not miss the night for anything. Their children are safely tucked under a blanket and put to rest on the sidelines.

Though Thancred has put away his flirting for some years, you see a spark of his old self as he leans along the bar for half the evening to speak with the bartender.

Urianger never ceases to amaze. He is as light on his feet as he is eloquent with his words.

Y'shtola's laugh peppers the air the whole night, her eyes sliding over to you in a silent acknowledgement of the silliness of your friends, of the relief you share in seeing everyone together again for a moment. "When all seemed lost in Ultima Thule," she asks with her eyes, "Could you have imagined this?"

Ishgard Elf Friends - Fortemps Manor

Of course Count Edmont knows your nameday, that's silly to even ask. He knows all of his children's namedays, whether he was present for the birth or not.

He is quite pleased to finally plan such a lavish event for you. Though he expected your blushing refusal, he insists. Though he knew you would say something along the lines of "You've done enough for me", he has already ordered a towering cake with your name written in icing of your favorite color. Yes, he knows this too.

Aymeric had planned to give you a gift, perhaps even to invite you over for another dinner. Still, he was quite pleased to receive the invitation. As soon as he saw the crest of House Fortemps sealed in wax on the envelope, he grinned, imagining your reaction to such a gesture.

Estinien had not been home for some time, pleased to think of time spent among his oldest, most cherished friends. After so much had changed, he imagined himself toasting you with a fine ale. He set out to purchase a gift, begrudgingly asking for Tataru's assistance as he remembered your pleading eyes as you begged him not to overpay for the last drink you'd shared together.

Though Artoirel is a natural at stoicism, he is not cold. He smiles to himself as he helps place the banner bearing your name in the sitting room, curious what you will think of his gift. He had spoken with many at the Jeweled Crozier who had done business with you before, certain that he had found something you would like.

Emmanellain is delighted to spend a nameday with you, truly. When asked, he was "glad that they have made a home with us, yes, yes" and trailed off to look at his pile of papers. He has rejected any requests to assist in setting up and has absolutely forgotten your gift. He has spent a great deal of time poring over the guest list, thrilled at some of the names he sees on the list. He would like to get you something, the party is tonight, he genuinely believes that he still has time. Worst comes to worst, he will make a show of his dance moves as a gift to you.

Lucia is somewhat pressed. Truly, what is one to wear to such a thing? Lucia is not one for these kinds of events. Still, she is glad to see you hale and whole after all of the profound experiences you've shared together, and she's excited to meet you not on the battlefield or in a strategic meeting, rather in a room full of warmth and laughter.

Hilda is quite prepared. Though she had not seen herself as someone who might rub elbows with lords and ladies, she's looking forward to making a fool of them all on the dancefloor. She is equally excited to catch a little more time with you! In all your time together, you've surprised her with your earnestness and your commitment to no class of people, but all of Ishgard.

Your Ancient, Oldest Friends - Elpis

For the life of him, Hades cannot remember why his trip to Elpis was so important. He simply remembers leaving confused, angry, but so much more committed to the duty put upon him as a Convocation member. He had not accomplished what he wished, and there was some period of time, at least two days, in which his memory was only hazy images. Still, he felt drawn to return, with you.

He proposed to Hythlodaeus and Venat that they meet you here at the suggested date and time. He scoffed at Hythlodaeus' suggestion that he had given away his deep caring for you, "A vacation to a beautiful place on their nameday?" he laughed into Hades' blushing face. Venat smiled softly, refusing to betray her own memory of how events had unfolded on their last visit.

Still, Venat dutifully packed her knapsack and prepared Argos for their journey. She smiled thinking of you in the present and in the future, changed in countless ways but unchanged in all the ways that mattered to her.

Hythlodaeus gladly played his part in the surprise, holding his hands before your eyes as he walked with you from the Aetherite plaza in Amaurot, asking what you can feel, what you can smell. Wildflowers, warmer sun on your skin.

Hythlodaeus released you from his embrace as you opened your eyes to see the rest of your friends. A few faces from your travels across Etheirys, a handful of Convocation members, your favorite neighbors from Amaurot spread out along the grass unpacking rucksacks for a picnic.

You lay in the grass, eating and laughing. You share stories for hours, eyeing Hades' grimace and soaking in Venat's laughter at your deeds.

The sun begins to set and the heavens put on a show for you, painting thick rose pinks, purples, oranges, yellows before it fades to an inky black, spotted with a sea of stars. You lay on your back, grasping a friend's hand in each of your own as you wish to have many more days and nights like this. Vowing that you might do anything to keep things this way forever.

[sunsents]

Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

[ethan-torchio-angelo]

Oh, love

Summary: It takes a year of trial and error, of love and heartbreak, for the two to finally realize there's no one else they'd rather be with. Or in which she becomes they're photographer for a summer tour and falls in love with the dark haired drummer.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual content

A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to @ethanesimp for proofreading and hyping this fic up, thank you so much amore! This is the first piece I've written for any of the members of maneskin, and also the longest thing I've ever written! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

January

It’s a call in the middle of the day that begins it all. She’s been in a shoot all morning, running around snapping photos of a wanna-be teen idol. She’s been here many times, being hired to do promo shots for someone who never makes it farther than this. But this call, she knows it’s different. She’s heard the name, seen some videos, she knows this won’t be like the rest. She’s instructed to clear her schedule for the week and to be in Rome by the end of the day.

The cold air hits her as she leaves the building, suitcase and camera bag in hand. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since joining the company, the chance to become a permanent fixture instead of hopping from gig to gig. She’s told that they requested her specifically, that one of the band members saw her collection from a festival last summer and was dead set on booking her for their summer tour. It’s all new to her, the feeling of being the first choice and not second best. She barely hears anything that’s said on the plane by their manager, too busy trying not to freak out.

It’s only a few hours plane ride, but it feels like a lifetime. Thoughts run wild in her head as the seconds tick by, she can’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, or nervous, for something. She’s greeted by more people from their team as she steps off the plane, and is quickly ushered to the villa they’ve been staying in. She barely has time to process the beautiful new city she’s in before she’s hidden by walls of an even more beautiful place.

They give her time to relax and unpack, but clear instructions to not leave the property without security. Things have been crazy, she’s told, since their winning last year fans have become more clever with their tactics. She laughs at some of the stories, but heeds the warning all the same. She’s seen quite a few things that have shaken her to her core, so she knows to be careful and wary.

Music floats through the halls and into her room, the band practicing on the other side of the villa. The music fills her veins with a feeling she can’t quite place, but it’s a welcome humming that gets her blood pumping. She grabs her camera and follows the melodies, laughing at the jokes thrown around in english whenever someone messes up. She angles herself behind a corner just right where she can take pictures while still being hidden from the band.

Her heart races at the scene in front of her. It’s a family like she’s never seen. They all seem to orbit around each other, pushing and pulling each other into their atmospheres. She watches Victoria dance around the room, bass in hand, strumming the lines to an old song. Thomas lays on the floor with a notebook reading off words, Damiano repeating them as he draws on eyeliner. And Ethan, who sits at his drum set, twirling the drumsticks in his hand as he observes the scene before him.

She captures picture after picture of their dynamic, taking the most of Ethan, who seems to have a magnetic pull to him. She only pulls herself from the moment when she’s spotted. “Sai, qualcuno chiamerebbe questo strano comportamento.”

The words are warm against her ear, and she jumps at the unexpected presence. She turns around, laughing to hide her embarrassment, trying to translate the words in her head. She freezes when she sees it’s Ethan, trying to figure out when he slipped away from the rest of the group.

“Ah, niente italiano. Er, it’s unusual, what you are doing.”

Another nervous laugh leaves her lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy. There’s something about the way the group is when no one is watching, it’s hard to ignore, it needed to be captured.”

He smiles at that. It’s soft and warm and she feels as if the world has stopped spinning. A song plays between their hearts as a silence falls over them. There’s a beauty about him that makes it hard to focus on anything but him.

A series of crashes followed by loud curses in Italian breaks the spell that they were under and Ethan pulls himself away from her to go and manage his friends. She uses this moment as an excuse to slip away and tour the rest of the house, ending in the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. She snaps a few photos of the chefs cooking, already envisioning the blog post they’ll go along with.

When everyone has made their way to the dining room a toast is made; to new adventures, to new friends, and to family. Sweet wine and light rain makes the time pass faster and the evening flows into night easily. The group parts only moments after midnight, long days ahead calling them to catch up on sleep now.

The month flows by with days and nights blurring together. It seems the studio is really the only place they call home, spending every waking moment in the room that houses their instruments. She stays with them through the long hours, snapping photos of the weird things they get themselves up to. Her hard drive slowly fills with collections of each band member, ones for the public eye and ones she sends to them to make them laugh.

The end of the month brings a party, something small to celebrate sold out tour dates. A night out to a local bar and far too many drinks. She dances with Victoria, who has become her best friend in the few weeks she’s been with them. Damiano and his girlfriend are not far away, but much more caught up in their own world. Thomas has disappeared somewhere, no doubt warming someone's bed for the night. But through all the commotion, she can’t stop watching Ethan.

He’s sitting at a table nursing the only drink he’s had that night, planning to take on the role of babysitter at the end of the night once everyones had too much to drink. He drums his fingers on the table, following the beat of each song that plays. He seems lost in his own world, content with being by himself. She moves away from Victoria, who easily finds another partner, and makes her way to the table.

“Sembri solo,” the words fall from her lips quietly as she takes a seat beside him.

He smiles at her, “Seems your little lessons are paying off.”

She blushes at that, not realizing he’d picked up on her daily lessons with their English tutor. “Only enough to not seem like a tourist.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and she wishes she could bottle the sound.

“But don’t change the subject. Tonight was about having fun, celebrating a big accomplishment. Yet you’re sitting here alone.”

He sighs at her insistence, “Sometimes we don’t need to celebrate everything so publicly.”

Something pulls at her heart. She can’t imagine having such a public life, but she understands how it must feel to never have anything to yourself. Before she knows what she’s doing, she places a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, a light tingle shooting between the two of them.

She pulls her hand away quickly, a small blush forming on both their cheeks. He offers her a small smile to make the moment less awkward, and she returns it.

The night ends not too much later, the rest of the crew having decided that warm beds would be much more comfortable than the crowded bar. She helps Ethan herd their friends home, laughing along with him at their drunken antics. Victoria jokingly calls them mom and dad as they help her to bed, and the blush that was plastered on her face earlier that night makes a second appearance.

It’s almost morning by the time she makes it to her own room. Ethan isn’t far behind her, realizing for the first time tonight that they share the same hallway. “Buona notte,” comes his voice from down the hall.

She turns to face him, catching herself stuck in his stare. She can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it gives her butterflies all the same.

“Buona notte.”

February

February brings more time in the studio and less time outside the walls of the Villa. While winter in Rome is not like the ones you’d experience in colder places, it still brings a chill to her bones. She steals one of Victoria's sweaters after a night spent lounging under the stars, a small break from a busy schedule.

A fire had been lit and a bottle of sweet wine was making its way around the group. She’d set her camera aside for the evening, planning on enjoying a night without the calls of work. She doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she’s swaying to a drunken beat in the arms of Damiano who can’t stop giggling at her two left feet. The man had not believed her when she said she couldn’t dance, but was now biting his tongue as they moved around the courtyard.

As the night seemed to come to a lull, a game of truth or dare was proposed and all were in agreement. She finds herself sitting beside Thomas on the floor as Victoria begins the game, a stupid dare aimed towards Damiano that earns him a new haircut. The night drags on in a flurry of laughter and silly dares. By midnight half the group is wearing someone else’s clothes, and the others have barely any on.

She’s moved to be sitting by Ethan, who has an arm casually draped across her shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so electric, his skin touching hers, but it does and it’s the only thing she can focus on. Her heart feels like it’s almost beating out of her chest and the blush on her face isn’t caused by the alcohol in her system.

Damiano is the first to notice her situation, and starts poking fun at her whenever it was his turn to ask her something. It started off innocent enough, small questions aimed towards her love life, but it soon caught the attention of Thomas who was the first one to issue a dare towards the girl. This was how she’d ended up sitting beside Ethan, cuddled into his side. Ethan was oblivious to the things going on around them, until Victoria dared her to kiss him.

It seems as though time stops, the laughter fades and the silence becomes deafening. She turns towards Ethan, a mixture of panic and excitement painted on her face. He smiles at her, “We don’t have to, amore.”

“A dares a dare.” She shrugs at him.

A round of cheers raises up around them as the two lean in. It’s meant to be only a small peck, something good enough to count in the eyes of those around them. But as she goes to pull away his hand reaches up to tangle in her hair and he pulls her closer. Their lips meet again without any hesitation and it’s like the world lights up around them. Blame it on the alcohol, but if she were to die right now she’d be happy.

They pull away a second later, a small laugh leaving both of them, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm.

“Awe, they’re blushing! How cute!” Comes the voice of Damiano, further pulling a blush from the girl.

She grabs one of the pillows beside her and aims it at his head, laughing when she misses terribly.

The night fades into morning and they all climb to the roof to watch the sunrise. It’s a moment she wants tattooed in her memories forever. She’s got her arms wrapped around Victoria and the three boys huddle around them, alcohol still flows through their veins and they’re all singing different versions of the same song.

March

The beginning of spring in Rome is magical. Flowers start to bloom, mornings are coated in a light dusting of rain, and clothing starts to become less of a necessity. She takes photos of the band trapezing the streets. The Villa studio has become too familiar, moving instead to a studio in the city.

By now, a routine has been put in place. Mornings sipping coffee and eating fresh pastries while she laughs at the varying states of wake the band is in. Afternoons in the studio, recording their new album while she collects photos and videos for their ‘making of’. Evenings spent in restaurants and bars, eating some of the best food she’s ever had, and she swears she’ll never eat anything better.

She’s never fallen in love with a city like this before. Maybe it’s the city, or maybe it’s the people she’s with, but she swears she never wants to leave. It suffocates her in the best way possible, the feeling of being home. She hopes that when the tours over and her contracts up, that she’ll move here, maybe even keep these people she’s grown so close to in the past few months.

She’s thrown out of the daydream by Thomas yelling at her in a mix of italian and english for not paying attention. It’s the middle of the afternoon, they’ve taken a lunch break at a restaurant down the block, and Thomas is expressively telling a story. His hands are in the air and he’s almost knocked his wine glass over too many times to count.

Damiano sits across from her, fiddling with her camera, snapping his own photos that he presents to her proudly. She laughs at every one, but never discourages his actions. Victoria is on her left, Ethan on her right, both vying for her approval as they argue over something. She’s overwhelmed by the different directions her brain is being tugged, but the hand that snakes its way into hers calms her.

She looks down to see Ethan rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, a soft smile grazing his lips as they make eye contact. She returns it, whispering a small thank you to the boy.

That night, she lays in bed, in the room she’s begun to finally call hers, thinking of the boy with stars in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s feeling like she finally belongs somewhere, or the wine that still coats her veins, but there’s something about him that she wishes she could become a part of. She wants to wrap herself in it and never leave. She’s falling for him, hard. Vaffanculo.

April

It is Victoria's birthday and everyone has decided that she must be princess for the day. Ethan and Damiano have been up since dawn making an extravagant breakfast, something that should be put in a five star restaurant. Her and Thomas had disappeared shortly after waking, returning with a stack of presents that was almost as tall as him, and the best bouquet of flowers she could find.

After decorating the patio with anything and everything they could find, it was a mad dash to Victoria's room to wake her up. She protested, claiming that sleep was more important than being awake, but at the mention of presents she was the first one out of the room.

It was a morning of happiness, and a much needed break from their hectic schedule. She recorded the entire day, from the dramatic wake up call to the celebratory sparklers that were set off that night, it was all captured.

After breakfast the princess requested a trip to the beach, and no one would dare refuse her. They found something private, a little hidden oasis an hour's drive from the villa. They spend hours there, switching between swimming and laying in the sun. She finds herself alone on the sand with Ethan at one point, watching the others like proud parents.

She tries not to think about how close his body feels to her, how she can feel the heat his body is radiating seeping into her, the smell of his body wash. He’s invading all of her senses and she’s trying so hard to focus on anything but him. “Let’s go on a walk?”

His voice is warm as the question escapes his lips. She turns to look at him and she’s thankful to be able to blame the sun for the blush on her cheeks. She nods and gets up to follow him, brushing off the sand that’s clinging to her bathing suit and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

They disappear down the beach, walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. It’s not till they’re halfway down the beach that either of them speaks. “Are you enjoying your time?”

She doesn’t miss the hint of worry that laces his voice, and she’s quick to reassure him that she is. “Yes, very much. This is probably the best job I’ve had in years.”

He softly chuckles at her words, “Good. Good. We’re trying to make you feel like one of us, don’t want you running away.”

She’s grateful for the confession, glad that they don’t see her as just another person that works for them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He bumps her shoulder with his, a small smile forming on his face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They head back to the group soon after, realizing they’ve let the day slip away and need to leave soon if they want to make their dinner reservations.

A small vineyard hidden in the valley, they’ve booked the place so it’s just them, and ordered every bottle of wine on the menu to taste. They laugh away the night, enjoying plates of delicious food and letting their minds wander. A gorgeous cake is brought out at the end, half of which ends up destroyed thanks to an impromptu food fight. More presents are opened and Victoria starts tearing up, blubbering about how much she loves the idiots she’s surrounded with.

They walk through the dark streets of Rome, singing happy birthday loudly in every language they know. It’s unusually cold, but she’s somehow been wrapped in Ethan’s jacket, his arm slung over her shoulder. She’s holding Vic’s hand, Damiano and Thomas taking turns with her camera.

The air surrounding them is electrified, she looks up into the sky and thanks the stars for the life she’s living.

May

The summer tour is fast approaching, and nerves are starting to set in. The already high energy group somehow is bouncing off the walls even more, making for an interesting collection of photos. Nerves are starting to get the better of them, and she often finds one of them wandering around the Villa at odd hours of the night. She’s good at being able to channel her nerves into something else, focusing all of the energy on a new project.

One night though, it gets the better of her. She tosses and turns in her bed for hours before she decides that sleep isn’t coming. Instead of lying in bed willing her brain to shut off, she throws on a pair of shoes and heads for the front door, thinking a walk in the warm spring air will do her some good. What she doesn’t expect to find is Ethan sitting out on the terrace, cigarette in one hand and a book in the other, lost in his own world.

She doesn’t mean to catch his attention, hoping to allow him this little bit of uninterrupted peace, but he spots her anyway. “Buona serata,” He rasps, voice laced with the quietness of the night.

“Buona serata, Ethan.” She returns the greeting.

He motions for her to sit down in the chair beside him, closing the book and placing it on the table. “What’s troubling your mind tonight?”

She’s not used to the way someone can read her so well, but there’s something about Ethan that brings her comfort in the fact that he can. “Nerves, I guess. I’ve never done a gig this big, never spent so much time with one group. I’m used to being moved around a lot, still getting used to being a permanent fixture I guess.”

The words are heavy on her tongue, never having voiced her worries out loud before. He takes a long drag of the cigarette hanging from his lips, “La vita ci dà solo ciò che sa che possiamo gestire.”

“Some would think you were a poet in a past life.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head. A comfortable silence falls over them and she wishes she could bottle this feeling to keep with her forever. He turns to look at her, and it’s hard to put into words the feeling that washes over him. He’s not sure where it comes from, the urge to kiss her, but it sends him spiralling.

He reaches his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, “Le stelle brillano più luminose nei tuoi occhi, amore.”

The words and his actions cause her heart to raise and her breath to hitch. They’re close now, the closest they’ve been since that night in February, and all she can think about is that kiss that they shared.

Neither knows who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips are touching and it is everything and nothing like they remembered. While the other kiss had been hesitant and brief, this one was full of purpose. Their noses brush and their breaths tangle together, he bits her lip for a moment and a small moan escapes her. He swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

He grabs at her hips, lifting her from the chair and placing her so she’s straddling his lap. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs softly, earning a groan from the man. The sound sends shockwaves through her and she rocks her hips against his almost involuntarily. His lips move from hers to the side of her neck, pulling small whimpers from her as he nips and sucks at the skin. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. The feeling of his body pressed to hers, the pleasure he can so easily give to her.

She moves her hands down to fumble with the hem of his shirt and that’s when he pulls away. “While I would normally love to do that here, how about we continue this somewhere more private?”

She nods eagerly and removes herself from his lap. He all but drags her inside the villa and towards his room. She trips over her own feet and they both laugh at her clumsiness, falling into each other as he tries to catch her but trips over his own feet in turn. He leans in to kiss her again as their bodies collide, this one sweeter and softer than the previous one.

The moment passes quickly and soon she’s being dragged through the halls again, only to be met with a half asleep Damiano standing in the doorway of his room. They stop in their tracks, jumping apart, trying to act like nothing was happening. “It’s rude to have a party and not invite everyone, you know.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, glad that he didn’t know what had been happening moments prior. Ethan is quick to explain that they were just having a cup of tea on the terrace and were now heading to bed, and thankfully the lie is believed. Damiano wishes them a goodnight, heading back into his room, and the two are left in silence in the hallway.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” he whispers to her.

Her heart sinks, but she nods her head in agreement and turns to walk back down the hall to her room. She’s not really sure how the night was going to end, but this was definitely not how she wanted it to; walking in silence next to someone her heart aches for, pretending that nothing had happened between them.

He walks her up to her door, still ever the gentleman, and places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Buona notte, amore.”

The words should not sound as sad as they do, and she tries her hardest to keep the tears welling up in her eyes at bay as she watches him turn and walk away.

June

How do you go back to being just friends after making out with someone? Well, you don’t. At least, not fully. They dance around each other without knowing it, avoiding any contact that could lead to something more or allude to something else, but there are still moments where the world seems to slip away and it’s just the two of them.

The tour kicks off at a festival in Amsterdam. Blue skies and sunny days greet them as they get off the plane. They have a day to explore before their first show, and no one can decide how to spend it. In the end, Victoria drags Thomas off to do some shopping, Damiano plans a trip to a few museums with his girlfriend, and she is left with Ethan.

She’s not truly stuck with him, but she doesn’t feel like wandering a forgein city all by herself. Since the night in the Villa, they haven’t spent longer than a few minutes alone together, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

A trip to the beach seems like the best place to be, and within the hour she’s lounging in the sun listening to Ethan read a book. It’s peaceful, the sound of the waves and his voice lulling her into a half sleep. She’s got a drink in her hands, something sweet and fruity, and she’s sharing a cigarette with Ethan. It’s a scene she thinks one would find in a movie.

She rolls herself over so she’s laying on her back, staring up at Ethan who sits beside her. She places her hand on his leg and traces random shapes into his skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips, and he tries to stay focused on the book in his hands but finds it hard to do so. “You are very distracting, amore.”

She looks up at him innocently and she can’t help but admire him. His hair is tucked away in a bun, but a few pieces have fallen out and are flying in the gentle breeze. He’s only wearing a pair of swim trunks, broad chest on full display. He catches her roaming eyes as they make their way back to his face, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Or maybe I’m the one distracting you, no?”

She smiles shyly and looks away from him, because yes, he is distracting her, and she’s finding it very hard to not kiss him right now. He chuckles at her, reaching his hand towards her face and turning it back towards him. He leans down towards her, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

All she can do is nod, and a second later his lips are on hers. It’s sweet and slow, she can taste the tobacco on his lips and it’s intoxicating. She moves so she’s sitting up, leaning into him more, the world around them fading out until all that is left is them.

A few days later they find themselves in a hotel room in Munich. There’s music playing and everyone’s laughing. Her camera hasn’t left her hands all night, every moment needing to be captured as they ride the after show high.

She’s in the middle of recording Thomas’ one man act when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She knows exactly who it is by the scent that invades her nostrils and sends her brain into overdrive. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh, as his fingers trace themselves up and down her sides, collapsing into his chest as she struggles to breath.

He picks her up and spins her around, letting out an equally loud laugh at her protests. He’s happy, and it’s something that looks better on him than any designer outfit he could ever buy.

He falls onto one of the beds, pulling her down with him. She lands beside him tangled in his arms, he’s looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. The world seems to silence around them as their eyes lock. Her smile softens and she reaches her hand over to brush an eyelash off his cheek, he catches her hand before she can pull it away and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

He looks ethereal in this moment, hair strewn all over the place, a wild look in his eyes. She reaches for her camera and brings it up to capture him, never wanting to forget this moment.

The streets of Prague are empty, save for the two of them walking hand in hand down them. It’s early, almost too early to be considered an acceptable time to be awake, but they continue on nonetheless. A wild craving for something sweet had brought upon their adventure, and with the look she was giving him, he couldn’t say no to accompanying her.

They had been sitting on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the sun starting to peak out over the horizon and sharing a cigarette when she had turned to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I want something sweet.”

The comment had earned her an offer to order room service, but she shakes her head at the idea, standing up and walking back into the room. “No. Something real, maybe a coffee too.”

He follows her in, watching her pull on a shirt to cover the bralette she had been sitting in. “È presto, amore. Let’s go to bed. We can order something when the sun is awake also.”

She smiles at his words, but makes no move to stop dressing. She grabs her wallet and room key before heading to the door, stopping to turn and look at him, a question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll come with you.” He says after a moment, throwing on his jacket and walking over to her.

It’s 7:30 in the morning, the sun is starting to make it’s daily appearance, and they are happy. The small bakery they stumble into is just opening for the day and they’re greeted by the owner, an older lady with the sweetest smile. She speaks in broken English, an obvious language barrier between the group of them, but no one seems to mind.

She orders herself a poppy strudel and a coffee, Ethan ordering a croissant and an espresso, before sitting down at one of the small tables. He sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. He presses a soft kiss into the crown of her head and she sighs in content.

Moments like this are what she lives for. She might only be here because she works for them, but somewhere along the way she’s become part of their little family. She looks over to Ethan who’s lost in conversation with the owner, and she whispers to herself, “Penso di essermi innamorato di te.”

She doesn’t know that he hears her, his smile spreading wider across his face.

July

The turnover from June to July happens mid concert in Stockholm. She swears she can feel it, the sudden shift, a slight change in the air. She’s running around in front of the stage capturing pictures of the band in what she’s come to call their ‘natural habitat’. There’s an indescribable buzz in the air as they perform, the crowd becoming louder and louder with each song.

She keeps catching Ethans eye and there’s something primal in the way he looks at her. During a song switch, while Damiano rambles to the crowd, he motions her on stage. He tells her to get closer to everyone, promising that they won’t bite, and she giggles at him. She does what he says nonetheless, capturing some up close photos of the band and a few great shots of the crowd.

All too soon the show is ending and everyone’s piling into the car, a small party taking place in the backseat. Damiano has music blasting from his phone, Victoria and Thomas are dancing along to the beat, and Ethan is belting out the lyrics. She watches the group of them, laughing so hard her sides hurt, and she’s never felt more at home.

When they get to the hotel he’s quick to pull her towards his room, thankfully void of a roommate for the night. The second they get into the room, his lips are on hers. He pulls her close to his body and her hands tangle themselves in his hair. It’s nothing like any of their previous kisses, it’s heated and fast, every thought trying to be conveyed by the fever of it. She pulls back slightly to catch her breath and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “Join me in the shower?”

It’s not so much a question as a statement, but she nods her head eagerly, quick to follow him into the bathroom. He strips himself of the few clothes he’s wearing (most having been thrown off during the show), before turning to her. He reaches his arms out towards her, pulling her close to him and tugging on her shirt. She barely registers him pulling off her clothes, too focused on his body in front of her.

She’s never seen him so bare, and she’s having a hard time focussing on anything else. It’s not until her body hits the warm water that she snaps back to reality. He looks wild, eyes blown with lust, a wicked smile on his face. She firmly plants her lips on his, moaning into the kiss as he grabs at her. His hands are skilled and know every way to pull those delicious sounds from her lips.

It’s quick and dirty, and it is everything she has ever imagined it would be.

An hour later, she’s tangled up in the sheets of his bed, his entire being engulfing her as they watch the stars outside the window. She wonders if they are watching them too.

Paris is the city of lights, a statement she’s never been more sure of. The streets are lit with every light, shining brighter than the stars. She’s in a permanent state of bliss, after the night she shared with Ethan. Their relationship is hidden from the public, living in stolen moments and nights in hotel rooms, but she’s never been happier to be someone's dirty secret.

The band is electric on stage, something about the city they’re in taking their performance to a whole new level. The show goes on longer than it should have, but none of them even care when their manager comes over to reprimand them. They hang around to greet fans and take photos with anyone and everyone, and it’s not until security has to kick them out that they finally leave.

They find themselves in a bar, not sure what part of the city they’re in, but no one cares when the night feels like this. They drink expensive drinks that they can’t pronounce the name of, dance to songs they don’t know the words to, and feel more alive than they’ve ever felt. It’s like the world turned itself up to 11 just for them.

She dances with Ethan, not caring who sees because the night is theirs and no one cares. She kisses him in the middle of the dance floor and he pulls her into a vacant bathroom. It’s hot and heavy and the smell of alcohol envelopes them, but they couldn’t care less. Is this love? They don’t care. They’re young and dumb, and well, you only live once.

Back at the hotel they spend the night wrapped in bedsheets on the balcony, a bottle of champagne and a pack of cigarettes shared between the two of them. He points to the stars, a stupid grin on his face, “Le stelle brillano solo per noi.”

She snorts, throwing an abandoned pillow at him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him, tickling her sides until she’s begging him to stop, tears staining her cheeks but a laugh like no other leaving her lips.

As the night bleeds into morning, and both are hazy with sleep, he whispers to her, “Sei il mio universo.”

They walk down the streets of London, his arm slung over her shoulders as she rambles away, both blissfully unaware of the few fans snapping photos down the street. They don’t notice the group of girls following them, cameras and phones in hand, capturing picture after picture of the couple.

By the time they reach the shop, the photos are already out into the world.

As they order, reposts and comments start flowing, and their phones start lighting up with notifications.

Before they can pay, she’s crying.

Rule number one of being in the public eye; never look at the comments, distance yourself from social media as much as possible, it will never end well.

The final stop in Rome was supposed to be a welcome home. A big celebration was to occur after their last concert, but now, it’s nothing more than finding the quickest way back home. She sits in one of the dressing rooms the entire show, waiting for it to end, scrolling through her social media.

She knows she shouldn’t be, that’ll all it’s doing is hurting her, making her feel worse. But she can’t stop. The comments aimed towards her and the drummer are terrible, and she wishes she could just delete herself from existence. They aren’t even dating, at least not officially, but she’s been deemed the girlfriend from hell. She’s unknowingly stolen something that never belonged to anyone to begin with.

Damianos girlfriend is in the room with her, telling her of her own horror stories dealing with fans, and she knows she’s just trying to help, but she really wishes she would just shut up. She loves the girl to death, she’s been a blessing this entire time, but she feels her mind is too far gone to be saved from the madness.

It’s only a few minutes later that the band wanders in, the usual after show high replaced with a sudden heaviness. Ethan comes to stand by her after putting his things away and pulls her into a tight hug. “Amore mio.”

He’s sweaty and could definitely use a shower, but the hug is comforting. She rubs his back soothingly, knowing this is just as hard on him as it is on her. Their management team has told everyone to remain quiet about it, disappearing from the internet until further notice while they figure out how to manage the situation. It’s maddening, the inability to speak out and protect her. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be fixed, but he knows nothing is ever that easy.

They make their way back to the villa in silence, the car filled with a strangeness. She’s sandwiched between Victoria and Ethan, leaning on the bassist's shoulder, watching her play a game on her phone. It’s not how anyone wanted to end the tour, but the world is a strange and cruel place. Everything good always comes burning down.

August

There’s a party at the villa one night. Things have calmed down enough that she doesn’t spiral every time she looks at her phone, but there’s something in the way Ethan acts around her that makes her uneasy. She’s standing out on the patio, trying to avoid the questioning eyes from everyone in the house. She hasn’t spoken to Ethan all day, and the alcohol coursing through her veins makes her even angrier than she knows she should be.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him walk out the door beside her, a small scoff leaving her lips as he tries to speak to her.

“Couldn’t be bothered to talk to me all day, what’s changed that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He looks at her, stunned. “I don’t get what you mean.”

She scoffs again, placing her glass on the table across from her. “Since London you’ve done nothing but ignore me. I get that this wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk for me. I needed you, Ethan, and you left me.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, the feeling of wanting to cry tickling the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how Dami does it, how he can deal with the comments and messages. My brain won’t shut off, I can’t stop thinking about how if I had been more careful, I could’ve protected you and none of this would’ve happened. I feel stupid for thinking I could have. I hate seeing you like this, I wish I could take you away from all of this.” His voice slowly lowers, till it’s nothing more than a whisper, words meant only for her.

“I was never what you wanted, was I? This was just all some stupid game to you. I was just someone you could use to get off.” Her voice is laced with pain, a small crack coming out as she speaks.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly, and turns to look away from her. He walks a few steps before turning to face her again, “No. No, you were exactly what I wanted. You were everything to me. We were the same type of crazy.”

“I don’t understand Ethan, then what was the problem? This feels like a confession and a break up all in one.” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it.

The familiar sight creates something warm in her chest, memories of summer nights like this flash through her mind. Spending the evening sitting on the balcony of different hotel rooms, sharing a cigarette between the two of them while they let the events of the day soak in. She’d give anything to go back to one of those moments. He blows a breath of smoke out and starts to speak again, “I don’t know, amore. I don’t. I want to tell you I love you, to hold you and call you mine. But I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I want to, believe me, I do.” He steps towards her and reaches out his arms, “But we both know we can’t.”

She doesn’t know where the tears come from, but they’re there, pooling in her eyes. It’s only been a few months since they’ve met, there were no promises to be anything more than a summer adventure, but this doesn’t feel right. Her heart should not be breaking at the thought of losing someone she barely even knows.

He stops when he notices her state, reaching out to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Merda. Merda! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

She looks up at him through clouded eyes, “Then how was this supposed to go, Ethan? Breaking my heart wasn’t supposed to hurt me this bad? I was supposed to smile and tell you that I'm not madly in love with you and these past few months meant nothing to me?”

His heart breaks slowly at her words. He never meant for the night to go this way, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that everything could be okay. But he can’t, so he pulls away from her, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

They’re the only words he can manage to get out without breaking down. He takes a second to watch her, memorize all the features of her face, before turning around and walking away. It’s a sight that rips her heart out, watching his form disappear back into the house. She knows this is it, the goodbye she’d been preparing for these past few weeks, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

Before she can help herself, she’s calling after him. “Being in love isn’t a weakness, you know!” But the words fall upon deaf ears.

Vic finds her standing in the same spot an hour later. She’s got a smoke lit in her hand, the third one from the pack. She hasn’t touched her lips to any of them, but the smell and the feeling of holding it brings her comfort. She was never really one to smoke, but she found it entrancing to watch Ethan do it, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. It’s silly, how something so small can mean so much.

Her heart aches in the most unbearable way, but she can’t bring herself to do anything about it. Vic doesn’t speak, just stands beside her. She doesn’t need to ask to know that she is well aware of the events that have just unfolded, she’s just grateful for the company.

September

It’s stupidly hot in London for the time of year, but mother nature loves her unexpected heat waves. She’s home now, having left Rome shortly after the fight with Ethan, assuring their manager that she would be able to edit and upload all of the photos and videos from the comfort of her own flat.

Vic and Thomas had driven her to the airport, had walked her all the way to security and hugged her tightly before letting her go. She’d promised to keep in touch and Victoria had made her pinky swear that if she was ever in Rome again, she’d come visit. The flight was short, and she was glad the time difference was only an hour.

Her sister had picked her up and dropped her off at her flat, and she’d immediately collapsed into bed. That was three days ago, she’d barely moved since. Someone had caught her at the airport and the photos were everywhere, articles upon articles had been released, she’d had non stop messages from everyone, but all she could bring herself to do was turn her phone off.

Her photos make it to the front of magazines, her articles getting featured all over the globe, she’s made a name for herself. She gets emails from prospective clients wanting to book her in at shows, her boss sending her information for more high end gigs, but all she can think about is her drummer boy.

Her phone still sits turned off on her desk, she refuses to turn it on for anything, resorting to using only her email, but she knows everything that’s going on with the band. She’d been asked to join them again in a few months, to become a permanent part of their team. She hasn’t been able to reply.

She gets panicky thinking about seeing him again, about the things people will say if she’s caught in the same country as him. She’s stopped receiving death threats, but there’s still comments that creep in, fans thanking whatever gods made them seperate.

Victoria tries to reach out every few days, worried about the state of person she’s become, but she can’t even manage to type out an I’m okay. The world seems to be too fast and too slow, too bright and too dark, too much and not enough. Her heart aches and it’s a pain so deep she thinks she’ll never be okay again. Love is a cruel, cruel creature.

October

She finally brings herself to go back to work at the beginning of the month. She books herself in for a small band, someone no one really knows but she hopes they will one day. She’s in Amsterdam now, trying hard not to think of the memories the place brings. The band is good, the music heavy and the beat strong. They find a way to tell a story that leaves everyone with a soul searching question by the end of the night. Do you know who you are?

She’s only with them for a few nights, a short gig, but something she needed to get the ball rolling, to remember why she was doing this in the first place. After submitting the photos and writing an article that sends another wave of offers her way, she takes a few days to explore the city. It was wonderful before, when the air was warm and it felt like there was magic enveloping the city. But now, with the change of seasons, it’s even more beautiful than she remembers.

She walks the empty streets one night, huddled in the safety of her hoodie, camera in hand, and captures moments. A couple standing under a street light, a cafe closing for the night, kids running. It’s not until she hears a laugh she’s all too familiar with that her heart stops and her blood turns cold. She turns, ever so carefully, hidden behind the side of a building, and sees him.

He’s beautiful, even more than she remembers, and he looks happy. He’s walking with two girls, the resemblance making her sure it’s his sisters, but in this light she can’t be sure. She’s never met them, but he talked about them often, and she felt a pang in her chest for the homesickness he must have felt.

She tries to run, tries her hardest to get away, but she’s in an alley that leads nowhere and he’ll for sure be able to see her no matter what. The voices of the three get closer and she starts to panic, but there’s nowhere to go and she knows she’ll have to pull on her big girl pants and face him. But her heart won’t stop beating so loudly and she’s afraid she’ll break if he looks at her.

She pretends to be busy with her camera, focusing all of her attention on settings she knows are perfect, but a voice carries it’s way to her ears. “Hey stranger.”

It’s soft and it makes her knees weak and she hates herself for it. She looks up at him and his expecting eyes and her heart breaks all over again. She can’t help it, but suddenly there are tears running down her face and she can’t breathe. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

He places a hand on her shoulder but she pushes it away, “No it’s not.” She says between breaths.

“I shouldn’t be here, I should not be here. I have to go.”

She turns to leave, but one of his sisters stops her, “Let us walk you home, please. My brother may be a dumbass, but we have good genes. Let us make sure you get back safe.”

She doesn’t know why the words calm her, but she nods her head and lets the girls lead her in the direction of her hotel. The twins, Eleanora and Lucrezia, talk to her in fits of italian and english, trying to keep her brain occupied. But her whole body is on high alert, too aware of the man trailing behind them and how much of a fool she must look like. She feels like a mess, like someone drowning in a foot of water, but she can’t help it.

They walk her into the lobby of her hotel, the girls wish her a goodnight before shoving Ethan towards her. She doesn’t want to talk to him, and he must see it in her eyes because he tries to leave. But his sisters won’t let him, they stand tall and he looks like a child being scolded by his parents.

“Can we sit?” He asks, pointing to a couch.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to run up to her room and cry, but she nods. They sit and it is silent. Her stomach is in her throat, her eyes hurt from trying not to cry, but she sits and she waits. She studies his face, the crease in between his eyebrows that only forms when he’s confused or thinking, she wants to reach over and smooth it out. He turns towards her and catches her staring, a small smile forming on his lips.

He takes her in, allowing himself to really look at her for the first time in months, and something in his heart breaks. How did he ever let her go? Why was he so stupid to ruin something so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “I’m so sorry, amore. I know I can’t say it enough, I know it’s not as easy as that, but I’m sorry and I love you. So much it hurts.”

The words hit her like a truck, they knock the air out of her lungs and the tears she was trying so hard to keep at bay start falling down her cheeks. She stands up so fast she gets light headed, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

She turns and starts walking towards the elevators. He calls after her, but she’s determined to leave, to get away. He runs after her, catching her right before the doors of the elevator close, and he wishes she didn’t look so broken. The doors slip close and she is gone and he feels like he could break something.

Her room is cold and she wishes she was home in her flat. She throws herself into the shower, the water burning her skin, and she sobs. She sobs so hard her body shakes, she screams and hopes no one can hear her.

He’s still standing by the elevator, crying now, too. His body aches in a way he’s never felt before and he hates that he isn’t holding her right now. He knows he messed up, he beats himself up for it everyday, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, but he has to do something.

November

The ground is covered in snow. It is peaceful and quiet. He’s not used to this, the cold and the snow, but he understands the appeal. He’s standing outside her flat, or at least what he hopes is her flat, Victoria wasn’t exactly sure which one was hers. He’s bought her favourite flowers and he’s prepared to pour his soul out to her.

He paces outside her door for what feels like hours, trying to get himself to knock, but before he can, she opens the door. “Ethan?”

Her voice is soft, his heart sings at the sound of it. He turns to face her and the sight before him takes his breath away. She’s wearing a dress that shows off everything he loved about her, a coat thrown over her arm, she looks like an angel on earth. “Do you have a moment?”

She’s running late for dinner with her sister, but she’s afraid if she says no to him, she’ll never see him again. She hasn’t forgotten that night in Amsterdam, wishes she would have been brave enough to stay and talk, but she can’t change the past. “Yes, yes. Come in.”

She lets him into her flat, taking the flowers he hands her, and brings him over to her couch. “So.”

The script he’d had prepared in his head is suddenly gone from his memories. “I’ve thought this through a thousand times, planned this out a million different ways, but I can’t figure out the right words to say. I’m sorry, amore mio. I can’t say that enough. I never should have left you, shouldn’t have let things happen the way they did. Loving you was easy, and I think that scared me.”

She takes a deep breath, not sure what to say. She feels tears bubbling in the back of her throat and she hates that this is her response to everything revolving around him. He notices the shift in her, can tell she’s about to cry, “Amore mio, please don’t cry. I’ll start and then neither of us will be able to do anything else.”

She laughs quietly at his words, “I don’t think there are any tears left inside of me. I cried them all for you.”

His heart breaks at her confession. He moves closer to her and wraps himself around her. She hates how easy it is for her to melt into his touch, but she enjoys the comfort of it. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m yours amore.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them.

He pulls her tight to his chest and holds her. She doesn’t care about anything else but this moment and him.

She wakes up the next morning in her bed. The sun is streaming in through the windows and she can smell Ethans body wash laced in the fibres of her bed sheets. She rolls over, expecting to see him beside her, but is met with an empty bed. Her heart sinks, afraid that everything he’d said was too good to be true, that he’d left her, again. But the sounds coming from her kitchen prove her wrong.

She gets up, quickly changing out of the dress she was wearing the night before, and follows the sound of clinking dishes. She’s greeted by the sight of a shirtless Ethan, back turned to her, hunched over her stove. There’s the smell of coffee brewing and something soft playing from the radio. If she doesn’t think too hard, she can almost imagine this being a daily occurrence.

He turns around when he hears the floorboards creak, a smile on his face, “Buongiorno amore mio.”

“Buongiorno.”

He hands her a cup of coffee and plates the pancakes he’s made. She smiles at the domesticality of it all. He sits down beside her on the couch and they eat in silence, leaning against one another. Afterwards, she washes the dishes and he dries them. Neither one of them says anything until the sun is high in the sky and they are laying in bed together. “I love you.”

It is the first time she’s said it in such a permanent way, she recites it like it is a fact written in history books. He looks down at her, she’s curled up on his chest, a hazy look on her face. He reaches down to tuck her hair behind her ear and leans his head towards her, “Ti voglio bene.” He seals the statement with a soft kiss.

It’s light and barley there, she chases after his lips as he pulls away, and he chuckles in a way that sends butterflies into her stomach. She places herself on his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair as his tether to her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He stares at her, memorizing all of the features of her face. He loses himself in thoughts of days spent exactly like this, of a life he hopes isn’t just a dream. He flips them over carefully, laying her down on the bed. He hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

December

“Move in with me.”

It’s early in the morning and they’re sitting in bed sharing a pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, she’s leaned into his side, and he whispers those words.

She hasn’t yet told him about the offer from the band's manager, to become their permanent photographer, but it seems like the perfect moment to. “Yes.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his shock, “I was offered to come and work for the band full time, I haven’t replied yet. But I want to take the job.”

A goofy grin makes its way onto his face, “Do it! Right now. Tell them yes, come and stay with us. Be my girlfriend?”

He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. She smiles at him, her heart bursting with love for the man. “Okay, yes! Absolutely!”

Christmas is celebrated in their apartment in Rome. The band is there, her sister flies out and his family comes too. It is a day filled with love and laughter. They eat a grand lunch that they spent the previous day cooking, his mom brings a homemade panettone. They exchange gifts in the evening, and it is everything she’d dreamed of.

On New Year's Eve they make a trip to the villa. They sing songs and drink expensive wine. Fireworks light up the sky brighter than the stars. They sit out on the porch and tell stories of things that seem so far away. He’s sitting beside her, hands intertwined. He tells her about all of the things he wants to do in the new year and she is mesmerized by the way he talks.

There will be a moment in time when the world stops spinning and everything goes quiet, and she thinks that if that were to happen now, it would be the perfect way to go. Surrounded by the people she now calls family and the person she loves most in the world.

Fireworks go off in the distance, someone shouts out a drunken happy new year! and as time flows from one year to the next, she realizes that this is all that will ever matter.