#i started this back in august but only actually rendered it starting a few weeks ago fjkldjf

[ohheydodo]

Screenshot redraw of Nan/dor with a extra full tummy heehee

[femboychuuya]

Soooo, here we are, a New Year

Now, this post will be different than my usual art Posts i do. A few days before the New Year hit i got kind of reminded that Art Summaries exist.

Usually people only put one Art in, i think its the "best" one which they like the most, i think.

Though i wasn't able to decide for only 1 piece for each Month, so let me take you through my whole 2024 Art Journey!

- - - ☆

Starting off, i was 19 when i started Art. Back in May was when i came up to my beloved now girlfriend Kiera and asked for Advice on Drawing and told her that i wanted to start Art.

I chose to start with Hands. (albeit i did not include those visually in my Summary)

Hands were.... well.... hands. Kiera sended me a few Videos on how to draw, recommending me a German Youtuber called DrawingLikeASir. This is where i got my basic understanding on how hands (and also Human Anatomy as a whole) work and how to draw them.

I'm very grateful that people who do Art for a long time already, share and make Tutorials to follow. It's alot easier for me when i have real time visual explanation, so DLAS's Video's really helped me alot.

Besides those Videos, Kiera gave me alot of help too. She would give me tips if my Anatomy was off, help me fixing it via voice chat or messaging and overall just helped me understand Art to the extent that i then started to do it more regularly and frequently.

- - - ☆

Now, after this Yapfest, how about we take a deep dive into my Art?

This will be the longest part, but i do have alot to share actually....

Let's start with May !

I don't have any visuals here, so i will keep this brief.

In May was the first time i actually tried learning how to draw. I did start with Hands first. Why you may ask? Because i wanted to tackle one of the presumably worst things to draw. I did a basic fanned out Hand for a few times before i started drawing Hands around things. I felt comfortable very fast with how i drew Hands back then. And that was my May more or less.

June !

Let's get a nice Picture of June out, because June is the Month i started to learn Human Anatomy. It sucked.

I tried learning Human Anatomy after i felt confident enough with hands. I experimented around a bit, tried drawing either masculine or feminine body Types, but i did struggle with both. In the end, i tried settling for more androgenous Body Types. Those were alot easier for me, and Kiera did tell me that they can be easy to work with, since i can basically "shape them like i want". So i went with it.

Pretty much my June was occupied with learning to draw a whole Human Body.

July !

In July i made alot of Progress i think, this was my Prime time for learning how Bodies work. I took Ideas from other people i've interacted with, tried a DTIYS (Do this in your Style), created a small sketch page, participated in Rimlaine Week and also started to do Digital Art!

Now, starting Digital Art was hard, it still is for me after roughly 6 months. My missfortune was, i had no pen for my Tablet. I needed to learn how to Finger Draw. It was really taxing and unforgiving on my Hand, but i still pushed through it and gave my best. I didn't wanted to stop with Digital Art just because i had no pen.

Eventually, at some point (actually 2 points, one later though) I had a pen that worked, though it broke, both of them did. So i just stayed with Finger Art.

It honestly feels more natural for me to use my Finger by now and i think i actually want to stay drawing with my Finger for now. Unless i actually get a pen that doesn't break imidiatly.

August !

Short things for August: I had an Artblock. I managed to find 1 whole picture for August.

I can't really say anything more here i fear.

September !

September.... I tried alot of new things in September! Brushes, bigger Canvases, even rendering (not visually included)

September was a nice month. I made alot of progress, pushed my comfort zones and met ALOT of great Artist's!

I tried alot of new things. Posing, shitpost doodles, multiple people, character sheets, the Nasty Dog trend (i had fun doing that) and also tried to participate in dazai hurt/comfort week, i couldn't finish it due to personal reasons.

In September, i joined a Soukoku Discord Server which is run by Kaez. I joined there with intent of talking about SKK and it developed into active talking and Art Streams nearly daily! I got ALOT and i mean ALOT of good advice and tips on how to draw from more experienced Artist's!

It truly helped me find my Artstyles and Tools i can use on my drawings.

I am very thankful that my girlfriend sended me the link to Kaez's post about this server, it has been alot of fun there and was very educational aswell!

October !

In October i still was drawing nearly every day and started to draw Characters from Kiera's and mine own Story! I also experimented with Artstyles and Chuuya's hair. His Hair was a mess, it still is, but drastically changed the way i draw his hair in that month.

I specifically also tried to stylize eyes, it failed mostly but i still tried regardless (Eyes and facial expression are hard to draw, i learned the hard way)

November !

November was the Month where i started drawing (and writing) my first AU! My 14 Year old's BunnySkk AU!

I am very proud of those beans and all i had in my brain were those 2. I did inflict pain and suffering and great Trauma on Skk, but fear not, they are well now... or are they?

Lastly, December !

Going strong with the last Month of the year, I struggled, greatly. I had alot of personal Issues coming up, but went through those with trying to do art. Art really helped me get my mind off things, due to me not having a single thought while drawing (My head is a blank slate while i draw)

But besides those struggles, i got cheered on to keep going and so i did. I delivered Art from a Ship i was first very reluctant to draw things in fear of people being well.... online people. But i eventually overcame myself and started drawing my second favourite ship... Kunichuuzai!! I absolutely love their dynamic and can't wait to get back into drawing them. I need them. Carnally.

- - - ☆

Now now, this is probably as long as it can get now, so i will try to keep myself short here. (Try is the keyword, i am a yapper at Heart)

First and foremost, i will be thanking Kiera @misterloong , for even getting and pushing me into Art. I don't think that i would have been able to accomplish what i am doing currently without your great help and Feedback!! And thank you for putting up with my sometimes breakdowns over Art, its hard and we both know that.

Secondly, i am thanking Kaez @xkaez for creating the Skk Server. I don't think i would have had such a fun time over the last months while doing art if it wasn't for sitting together in vc with everyone and equally loosing our heads over Art together. The Art struggle is real but worth it.

Third..ly? Third?.... Leaving it at that. I am thanking the VC Dwellers Soup @iwantmochisoup , Goat @thatghostinyourbog , Jema @msshinylemon , Salt @saltedbiscuiit and Killeia @nolongerforthetainted . I am thanking you all for sitting in vc together, planning things, working together on thing and just having a fun time together! I learned a shitton, and i mean a shitton from being together in VC, drawing, talking or just hanging out together. I really hope this never dies out, its really fun with you all!!

Fourthly.... Fourth....? I am thanking Rosie @anticidic , Cinny @ohhcinnybuns , Ari @nevertheblood, Brin @ediblepandas and Cryptid @cryptid-juzou for giving me alot of Ideas and talking about all the ideas you guys had. It's always fun to lurk at night in the chats and see good ideas spring in. It might be one of my favourite pastimes aswell to just lurk in :)

And Lastly, i thank everyone else who i forgot to mention, whether its Skk server people, random online people, my mom or literally anyone who sees my stuff. I thank you for being here and supporting my Art Journey in any way you can. It has been a fun half Year of doing Art and i am so hyped for creating a full year of Art this year!!

I hope everyone who wants to do Art, starts doing Art, same with Writing or whatever other creative hobbies there are. It will bring you fun and can potentially even help you express yourself more.

On to a new Year

- West

- - - ☆

Adding on:

2 more Chibi doodles for making it to the end :>

[novanhistorian]

An Apéritif

Since the thing I’ve been on-and-off teasing is taking a while (optimistic finish time is early November, and I’ve been at it since early August), I’ve decided to release the introduction to an earlier work. The said introduction, intended to provide historical context, covers about 70% of total Scientian history, and thus about 60% of the subject matter of the thing I’ve been teasing.

To quote my past self:

The absolute minimum context you need is that the characters are members of a species called novanity, novans were created by human scientists who then left the planet, and that planet is called Terranovo.

This is one of two things I’m releasing from the project, the other being the Miniature Encyclopedia.

Stuff below the cut is about 1.5k words.

A Short History of the Novan Imperium.

Narrative stops on 12 January 452 (7 September 3435 by a calendar no longer in non-religious use).

First off, humanity managed to survive climate change and reverse its effects to some extent. They still decided to try their hand at terraforming a very promising exoplanet in a nearby (relatively speaking) solar system, and the United Nations put out a call for interested scientists. The “New Eden Project,” as it was colloquially called in English, was very successful in recruiting, and often whole families came along. I would love to give you details of how they got there in the record time they did, but the information seems to have been specifically taken in the Departure a few centuries down the line. After arriving, however they managed it, the humans settled Terra Nova’s moon with the intent to use it as a base of operations for their terraforming efforts. Those got started promptly enough, but they would take several hundred years. In that time humanity found many ways to amuse itself, like creating species for the new world to supplement those they had brought with them. One doctoral student got very carried away and created the first novanoid, which was drafted using a somewhat buggy supercomputer to simulate and predict the result of her design and thus died when she actually attempted to clone it. She gave up, but the Academy (essentially the executive and legislative branches of government, formed of illustrious scientists) found out and took over. After several decades they had success and the first novan was born. From that point forward creation of novans became more and more frequent until following the instructions to build and customize one’s own became a common capstone project for those pursuing doctorates in genetic engineering (and those poor souls who made a new kind of conifer or whatnot were considered to be hopelessly outclassed). This continued even after Terra Nova was fully terraformed and settlement started, though primarily on the Moon because that was where the obscenely complicated infrastructure it took to make a person was.

The novans as of our story do not have many records of this period, since much of it was destroyed in the Departure, the Moon—where most of the surviving records were—was rendered uninhabitable in the Devastation, and society went to the dogs for two hundred years after that.

Speaking of, the Departure happened. No one left behind knows why, but over the course of a week the Academy, still a dictatorial government even after all these centuries, shut down all nonessential systems and copied and destroyed as much information deemed important as it could. Most humans and tapped novans do not seem to have been aware beforehand of the purpose of the summons they received. It is unclear whether it was made known to them that refusal meant their summary execution or if they were just shot. Nevertheless, at the end of that week every human on the moon, on the planet, and (formerly) in the various mining fleets of the asteroid belt set off in the same direction. Only five ships were ever seen again, and that was as wreckage, clearly destroyed by the others for turning back.

A society with only thirty-seven percent of its population remaining (on average; the Moon was hit much harder than Terra Nova and the Belt) will either band together or collapse, and the novans proved the latter kind. The planet, still mostly a frontier with few established cities, broke apart into warring states with obscure and ever-changing borders. The Moon had two terrifying years of anarchy and mob rule before turning things around, semi-democratically electing a government, and becoming one of the most stable non-theocracies in the solar system. (The theocracies were outwardly “stable” due primarily to internal repression, or else due to being very lucky in who fell into their leadership roles early on.) It was seen as a leader by the rest of the survivors, both for its status as the center of pre-Departure society and government and for its togetherness in the aftermath.

The asteroid belt imploded. There is no other word for it. They lived on spaceships, under no real regulations even before the Departure took seventy percent of their population and a hundred percent of their government. The mining companies that survived with most of their boards intact became unstable pseudo-states, dependent on trade with the Moon (and through them Terra Nova) for the goods they needed to survive, which they never got enough of. As companies do, they wanted product and cared zero whits about what that meant for their employee-citizens. As dictators do, they wanted the good life and extracted it from their subjects brutally. Eight hundred years later, at the time of another major project in the Imperium Novel, they still occasionally find ghost ships from this period, their crews dead of overwork, system failures, simple starvation, or—most commonly—a combination of the three.

That is the environment that spawned the perpetrators of the Devastation. I have covered this in more detail elsewhere, but in short the Devastation was the destruction of every dome-city on the Moon by a combination of nuclear bombing and suicide-bomber-induced reactor failures.

Then there were about two hundred more years of the War Era as defined by historians. (Some argue that what is termed the Wars of Tidying Up is indistinguishable from what is termed the War Era save by its position on one side or the other of the official establishment of the Novan Imperium.) Forty or so years out from its end, several of the states came together in a coalition, with the goal of conquering or recruiting the others and creating the first unified government since the human days. It took them a few decades, but they slowly assimilated the whole of the main continent (omitting Lazer’ and Nowhere, nations on the smaller outlying continents). This accomplished, they declared the Year of Fortifying the Peace—later designated the year zero of a new dating system—and at the end officially established the Novan Imperium. There then followed another forty years of trying to get Nowhere and Lazer’ to crumble, which they eventually did.

Then there were three or four hundred years, depending on which historian one asks, of relative stability. These saw the government transition into a more democratic one less overwhelmingly controlled by the twenty-five states who either were cofounders of the coalition or had joined up voluntarily and the cadet program—initially planned to run for twenty years as a way of raising the last generation of war orphans, but far outlasting that time—come to increasing societal prominence. (This has its payoff in the Second Civil War of 744 to 750 or thenabouts.) The Imperium had been divided shortly after its creation into three main administrative regions (with later-added auxiliaries for Nowhere and Lazer’) which answered to a central government. The tensions that led to the First Civil War were just as much within the divisions as they were between them—no allowance had been made for cultural differences and ancient enmities in the north-to-south-divided regions, so Vesica Montium was expected to come to concord on every itty-bitty decision with its ancient enemies Putiya Nakaram and Shattered Rock, so long as that decision passed through the parliament. (Each region had a parliament; the country as a whole had a senate, which was basically the same thing under a different name.) When they had managed to quell their internal disputes, the regions turned to their neighbors for a fight—and more often than not they got it. This is why Mr. Sen. Telkes (Heleno being a state in the Western Administrative Region) insults Sabro (Central Administrative Region) so much and seems surprised to find someone he thinks is another Helenan there.

The Imperium also expanded off-planet and subjugated the warring companies of the asteroid belt, which by this time had become the Mining Belt in common parlance. They were not granted statehood—statehood meaning, here, what California has within the United States—but were instead made into tributary states with the Imperium as suzerain. This meant regulations, however spottily enforced, and a diminution if not an end in the continuous feuds and more importantly shortages that had plagued Belter life for generations, but was seen as a grave insult by many. The Imperium’s rather chauvinistic attitude toward the Belt and its inhabitants contributed to this, as did their perceived hypocrisy in critiquing the Belter company-state structure while their own corporations ran wild with their private armies and created a full-bore aristocracy (this being the riĉuloj).

Before the civil war officially broke out, there was a decade in which tensions became so thick they could be and were cut by a stray dueling-sword. [Here I started talking about the actual project.]

[lonelygamedev]

Pulverizer 14th devlog:

At the start of august I decided to start simple with a little effect for the elevator. Making the rest of the level fade in when the door opens. Afterward I decided to work on the gameplay, trying with experimenting with weapons. I decided to add a few weaknesses to the shotgun enemy to encourage other guns like the M16 and 'Gun Melee'. Allowing you shoot the enemy in the back to stun him for a bit, before moving in to melee him knocking him on the floor. Unfortunately cracks begin to show with the animation being broken, I was sorta stuck for a few days thinking the problem was bigger then it was, that it might require a rewrite of the entire health class. During theses days of thinking and gloom, I played a lot of persona 4 till I finally beat it

Side Quest: RPG In one week If you read my earlier posts, you'd know I once tried to do a challenge of making a JRPG in one week. Well persona really got the best of me and I thought it be good to do the challenge again, with better planning. Plus unlike the first attempt, I now got a cool Tim Cain video talking about how he structured RPG combat systems. A week later it is certainly cool to see a combat system that actually works if a bit lackluster, mostly due to a lack of motivation. Come back next month devlog for another week of development on this!

Side Quest Done

After the RPG I came back to Pulverizer and realized the issue that I was facing was because the enemy AI didn't stop when he was being knocked over, so he try to shoot while he was on the floor. Once I fixed that along with other thing I decided to work on the next enemy, being the rifle dude. When working on him and adding him to the game, I came across a issue where his size wasn't matching with the other characters. It made me realized how convoluted the process was of adding graphics, all sorts of little changes and odd thing's that make it difficult. So I decided to model all the enemies in one day with no planning, and add them to the game at once. Most the enemies where just variations of the shotgun enemy, with the only two unique one being a mech and suicide zombie. Hardest one was the flamethrower enemy due to the complicated rig, spend a whole day fixing his animations. Once that was done I resorted the SpriteRendering scene separating the tools and models, setting the sizes and adding a another variable to the RenderTemplate that modify the Unit per pixel ratio. And with the new tools I did all the animation rendering in one day. But the programming side of it still's need's work, for the next thing on the menu is making the game feel sharp again

[exit-path]

3 Years on Tumblr: A Tribute, a Biography, a Farewell

Hello! My name is peysi. I created my tumblr blog on August 21st, 2019.

Wow, it’s hard to believe that for the past three years, besides a single name change, I’ve been using the same exact tumblr blog! I’ve seen blogs purposefully deactivating, blogs accidentally deactivating, even people deleting their earliest (awkward) posts. Yet my blog has remained largely the same. Even the blog title, “peysi blog,” and description, “i have no idea how this works,” from day one have remained there to this day.

These four images symbolize some of the greatest moments of my blog—all of which happen to be Minecraft-related. First, there's the Skyblock image, which I made by copying and pasting images of 3D block renders until it resembled the actual Skyblock island, and in Feb 2020 it was my first tumblr post to pass 1,000 notes. Second, there's "building houses in UHC," a trick I learned and pulled off in multiple Hypixel UHC games, and edited together a video showcasing it.

Third, there's a meme image of a player's inventory filled with buckets of axolotl, and it's in my most popular post with an original joke (partly because I took the screenshot), gaining over 10,000 notes. Fourth is an artwork, my magnum opus, where I combined all of the art tricks and skills I learned during my years on tumblr alone: brushes, shading, action, and the mathematics of perspective involving Minecraft blocks.

Unfortunately, good things don't last forever. You see, I start college classes in 2 days, and I know I can't handle college while using tumblr, at least not on the same level I used to. Plus, it's not as fun for me to use tumblr anymore when I've been using it nearly daily for 3 years straight, with my longest ever break being two weeks. So, I'm going to take a pretty long break from tumblr. There's a chance I'll return. But right now, it's good to have this behind me.

Last year, I gave an autobiographical recap of the first two years of my blog. Now, I'm going to do the same for the last year. Finally, I'll be doing a face reveal at the end of this post. I'm a little short on time writing this, so there may be some moments I skipped. But without further ado, let's dive right in.

6. Aug 2021–Mar 2022: Electroman Adventures

One difference you might notice between last year's post and this post is the change in naming convention. Gone are the days of naming "phases" after singular popular posts anymore—a consequence of little happening back then. In the final year of my blog, my phases are named after entire sideblogs I created. Also, as "mineblr" and the topic of Minecraft continued to wane in popularity on tumblr, I was looking for other reasons to continue using the website.

Inspired by seven-oh-four naming her Geometry Dash sideblog after an official level, I created electroman-adventures on Aug 26th, 2021. (Sidenote: this was just five days after my last year's blog anniversary. The next day, one of my posts from Oct 2020 passed 10,000 notes. A lot has happened so far in just a few days after my last anniversary! Today, I have 8 posts with over 10,000 notes.)

I was already very interested in GD, having posted about it on multiple occasions on my main blog, but this was the first time I gave myself a space to fully indulge in the hobby. Only a few other people here played the game professionally too, and I got to meet them: i-want-it-weird-and-wonderful and her sideblog, joelymammoth, dragonfruuit, raspberreeee, and mad-hatterene.

In Dec 2021, I became the first person to discover that mad-hatterene was actually the tumblr blog of "Blitzer," a person that's currently a GD moderator, a List Leader of the Demonlist, and verifier of the update to "Tenth Circle" by DeniPol. They designed the thumbnail for paqoe's "Silent Clubstep" verification, and their current verification project is "Deimos" by ItsHybrid and more, an upcoming main-list extreme demon. Apparently they made their tumblr account 6 years ago, and only returned to tumblr because the GD community here grew after I started posting about GD. What a find!

In other news, Deltarune Chapter 2 came out in Sep 2021, and since I liked Chapter 1 back when it came out, I embraced the popularity and culture of Chapter 2 unfolding on tumblr. In Dec 2021, I joined Koicraft (World 5), a Minecraft SMP by popular mineblr mega-taiga. After one event on this server gave players special items, I fought with a friend named GoGlitch using potions of Slowness V, which I memorialized in this artwork.

7. Mar 2022–Aug 2022: World Heritage MC

It's hard to describe the state of mineblr at the time I created world-heritage-mc. Despite how strong the "Minecraft renaissance" was in 2019, these days the #mineblr tag dwindled to just one """popular""" post a day. Discontent with the current situation, along with discovering a new trick, I had an ambitious idea: create a Minecraft blog to browse tumblr as it was in 2019, like I was still in the past. And thus, on Mar 2nd, 2022, world-heritage-mc was born.

This isn't the original blog that world-heritage-mc runs on today. To explain why that's the case, and where the original blog is today, I have to go back to early March. Originally, it was just me running the blog, generating dashboard links for me to browse. It also became the de-facto "heritage post" blog of Minecraft content, which was a second responsibility I gave myself. Eventually, I realized that all of it was too much work for me to handle alone. So, I opened up moderator applications.

In total, four other people would end up joining the project. These legends were obsidianapple, seven-oh-four, aylt, and lunagaron. I created a discord server for the five of us to talk in, designed a new group blog for world-heritage-mc, made personalized emails and tumblr blogs for all of us (including turning the first iteration of the blog into my personal blog), taught them how to use the blog, and handed the new accounts over to the mods. This was my first time leading a group of people, and I was very nervous.

However, as if by divine intervention, on the very first day of our operations, pokemonlove4ever was created. This satire blog, which got a laugh out of everyone for the brief time it existed, including the mods in our team (for we had no part in it), placed a deep-rooted fear in me regarding group blogs. Also, naming the blog "world-heritage-mc" put it in my head that we were competing with other "heritage post" blogs, such as sonicheritageposts, undertaleheritageposts, tf2heritageposts, pokemonheritageposts, etc.

In June 2022, tumblr half-patched the trick we were using by preventing group blogs from viewing posts on our dashboard older than 7 days. This prevented us from carrying out both of our tasks on world-heritage-mc: reblogging posts from "old" dashboards, and stumbling upon posts from 2019 that we could deem "minecraft heritage posts." Normally this patch shouldn't have stopped us, as we could easily have found a workaround, but the event gave me a moment to pause and second-guess my ability as a leader.

This whole time, despite all of the mods in our group being my friends, I never learned on a personal level what each person excelled at. As a result, I couldn't delegate responsibilities that matched up with their talents. By the end, all of them were doing the same-old monotonous tasks, and they felt bored. So, we quit doing the two tasks, switched the main role of the blog to being "just five people controlling the same mineblr," and that's what you'll see currently when you view world-heritage-mc.

In other news, on Apr 25th, 2022, zetexkindasucks led an exodus from GD Twitter to tumblr. Overnight, the size of "gmdtumblr," as the community here was now called, grew tenfold, and I got the chance to meet many new people, players so skilled I never could have imagined them being on tumblr. raspberreeee created a new group blog comprised of pre-exodus gmdtumblr members called "dear-nostalgists," inspired by world-heritage-mc but instead being for GD. However, due to there only being a few real members of gmdtumblr, there was no audience for the group blog, and it went under.

But, just as quickly as the Twitter users came, they all left (the reason being that they realized Elon Musk wasn't going to buy Twitter), and tumblr was empty once again. In Jul 2022, I decided that for the first time, I was going to join Twitter. I know, shocker, considering that I'm probably the biggest proponent of tumblr. But I found out now that I turned 18, I was finally mature enough to handle Twitter, and despite my worst expectations, I actually had a lot of fun there.

I finally talked to the people I'd actually wanted to meet for so long, and the event spurred a new moment of creativity in me. When I returned to tumblr, I reposted what I created back here. Because tumblr will always be my home. Also, while I was gone, raspberreeee silently deactivated, and dear-nostalgists went with it. I'm sorry he's gone, and for the unfair attitude I treated him with while he was here. I hope he finds opportunity elsewhere on the internet.

*   *   *

And now, we finally return to my face reveal. When I announced a long time ago I would do this on June 2022, nobody wanted it because it stressed me out so much at the time that it scared everyone else. But now, two months later, I am at peace with myself. This is what I always wanted. This post is tagged #personal, so fair warning to everyone, if you don’t want to see anything IRL, you should filter “#personal”.

As a closing note, it begs the question: given that it was my blog description for 3 years, do I have any "idea how this works" yet?

...

Nope :) not yet.

Thank you. We’ll meet again.

(photo taken 5/21/22)

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

[kakashiswilloffire]

STEAM, not STEM

ao3

word count: 1.6k

kabuto x sai, college au, enemies to lovers ish, same age au

this is my first server collab with @konoblog-simps! the prompt was college au for august, and you can see the rest of the multifandom fics and artwork here!

***

As a biochemistry major focused on pharmaceuticals with a five year plan included finishing this undergrad degree, moving across the country for a masters in organic chemistry, then likely moving again for a doctorate in organic, along with four internships along the way, so that he could become a renowned creator of antianxiety medications, he was pretty confident in his knowledge. There was nothing a chemistry professor could ask that he couldn’t answer. Calculus came to him as a breeze. His psychology courses presented absolutely no challenge to him. Statistics, courses in professionalism and building his portfolio, and meetings with potential employers never caused him to break a sweat.

This fucking art class might kill him, though.

He had resented for years that humanities courses were required in science degree paths. It was his junior year and he had fought with his advisor for the past four semesters before finally giving in and agreeing to take a class on charcoal sketching. There was no way he would be caught dead in the hugely popular pottery class taught by the blond professor with tattoos of mouths on the back of his hands. Nor would he voluntarily take any basic introductory course in drawing or painting.

That was how he found himself in an advanced charcoal techniques course, prepared to blow through a handful of drawings and easily earn high marks.

However, in a class size of eight, he was drawing attention for the wrong reasons.

To start, the others all seemed to know each other from previous courses, which immediately made him the outsider. To make matters worse, the professor greatly preferred their work to his own. A part of him couldn���t blame the man who insisted he be called Tenzo rather than by any title or honorific. His drawings were definitely in a different style to the rest of the class, and it was a style that didn’t seem to be changing or improving as the weeks passed.

It wouldn’t be so frustrating if it wasn’t the first thing he had ever tried that was proving to be a struggle. As if that wasn’t enough to deal with, the asshole in the front row seemed to take to charcoal like breathing.

On the first day, when Tenzo had gone over the syllabus, he had also made them all introduce themselves and play a get to know you game. They all pretended that it wasn’t for Kabuto’s benefit. Fu and Torune had begun, making a point of making physical contact with each other the whole time they spoke, though he had never seen Torune take off his gloves. The had tuned most of the others out as they spoke, noting Shin seemed decent enough, though he’d prefer if the man stopped coughing for more than a moment. What grated him to no end was the final person to speak.

Sai.

He spoke with a fake smile plastered across his face, eyes closed and voice dripping with confidence. He listed his credentials off without any thought, and it infuriated him that the list of accomplishments and certifications rivaled the length of his own. Sai listed his specialty in art as black and white realism, and his preferred medium as painting, though he was looking forward to learning more about charcoal. From there, he had turned to Kabuto with that same overly-relaxed smile and offered:

“Your turn, flash cards.”

The familiarity rubbed him the wrong way and he had been irritated with him ever since. What made it worse was that Sai was actually really good in the course. He hadn’t been lying about his skill in realism—anything he rendered looked like it was about to run off the page. He seemed to prefer birds, in all species, but every individual feather breathed and flowed and he never got the black dust accidentally smudged on his paper. In fact, he never got the dust anywhere. Kabuto always left the class covered in black smears on his skin, clothing, and bag, and there would always be some hidden patch of charcoal that he never found until he showered that night.

It infuriated him to no end that this shallow jerk who modelled his personality around whoever he was with was also, genuinely, so much better than him at this class that he desperately needed to pass.

Midterm grades had come back the other day and a vein had nearly popped out of his forehead when he saw the disastrously low score. Tenzo had noted that he saw improvement between this and where Kabuto had began the class, but it was still not on level with the rest of the class and where he would need to be in preparation for the next level pastels course. Apparently, it didn’t matter that he wouldn’t be taking the next level course. If he didn’t pass this course with a reasonably high grade, his scholarship sponsor, Orochimaru, would be furious. Risking the scholarship not being renewed meant risking the entire five year plan, and for that—

He’d have to suck it up.

“Hey, Sai?” he asked, forcing himself to keep his tone level. Admitting weakness was not his strength and he had no intention of making this a habit.

The crop top wearer glanced up from the hyper-realistic sheet of mice that he was effortlessly rendering. “Ah, Kabuto,” he said, the same smile from before falling across his face. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

He gritted his teeth, then forced his jaw to relax. “The rain we’ve had all week? Sure, Sai.” He pulled up a stool, settling in to the easel next to him. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

Sai nodded, not pausing his movement as he gave life to a mouse’s tail. “My answer is yes.”

Kabuto blinked. Was asking for help really this simple? “You’re willing to tutor me for the final?”

That caused Sai to hesitate, tilting his head slightly to the side. After a beat, he replied “I suppose I could do that. You appear to be capable of learning how to improve your questionable techniques.”

Ignoring the dig, he pressed on. “I would appreciate that. Tenzo said that my linework is improving but my shading is still not where it needs to be. Something about being more mindful of my light sources.”

“I agree with his analysis,” Sai said, continuing on his sketch. “Your grasp of line weight is abysmal, which is a step up from your initial attempt, which was horrific. Your shading on our last assignment, the brickwork, was essentially nonexistent. All of your pieces so far have had at least four light sources that have no apparent source. It’s clear from your work that you have no regard for art and no passion for creation at all.”

He delivered the critique without halting a single graceful stroke on his canvas. There was no malice in his tone, and he said the words almost pleasantly, despite the cutting content.

“I am willing to teach you more technique and skill so that Tenzo is able to assign you a passing grade in this course. However, I do not believe you are capable of being an artist or creating anything of value in the world as you currently are.”

Kabuto froze. He had only meant to ask for a few tips, not to be dragged for all he was worth in this godforsaken art course. How dare this arrogant prick think he was incapable of creation?

He gripped his charcoal stick so tightly in his fist that it crumbled. “Listen, inky. Just because I’m focused in science doesn’t mean I can’t create anything meaningful. My goal is to be a pharmaceutical chemist, to create medications to change people’s lives. Just because I can’t draw some fucking—I don’t know, a fucking rat or a bowl of fruit or whatever, doesn’t make you better than me. So fuck off with that.”

Sai smirked, his eyes closing in his familiar pattern. “I never implied anything about our worth relative to each other. But I do think that it’s cute that you’re concerned about appearing to be less than me. That will create an excellent motivation for self-improvement for both of us in our relationship.”

The light caught Kabuto’s glasses, a white reflection flashing across the lenses. “We don’t have a relationship.”

Finally, Sai put his rectangle of charcoal down on the easel and sat up. “Do we not? What was the intent of your original question to me?”

Kabuto spluttered. “What do you mean? I came up and asked if you’d help me with the final and you said yes, then you were an ass.”

It was now Sai’s turn to blink. “You said that you had a question for me. I replied that my answer was yes. As a result, we are now boyfriends.” He wiped his fingers on a handkerchief hanging on the corner of his easel. “Was your question you intended to ask me not if I would be interested in a romantic relationship with you?”

He flushed a deep red. Sai was attractive, that was undeniable, but that was not how this encounter was meant to go. Romance was not in the five year plan. “I—”

“Just do it,” sighed Tenzo, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. “For the love of God, both of you, stop staring at each other and bickering and just go out, would you?”

Sai smiled, the classic closed-eye smile that looked more genuine each time he did it. “Thank you, Tenzo.”

Kabuto was confused, but in order to learn the skills he needed to pass this class, he’d need to go along with the game. Without another word, he reached out and took Sai’s hand. Might as well give it a shot, right?

[summahsunlight]

Worth the Risk, Part 12

Rating: Mature(18+only)

Word Count: 1707

Pairing: Army Pilot!Poe Dameron x Nurse!Reader (1940s AU)

Summary: It’s the 1940s, Army pilot and Captain Poe Dameron is flying on missions for the United States Army in Europe.  After being shot down off the coast of France, Poe wakes up in an Army hospital in England, to find you, a nurse, taking care of him. Throughout the process of his recovery, Poe finds himself falling for you, and even though you, for the most part, maintain a professional relationship with him–you’re falling for him as well. Both of you know the risks of falling in love during a war, but then again, both of you have never cared much for being cautious.

Warnings: Angst, Holocaust imagery (not graphic)

Start from the beginning!

Taglist: @fanfic-addict-98​, @thescarletknight2014​, @blushingwueen​, @americasassromanoff, @ginger-swag-rapunzel​, @spider-starry​, @totelpoedameron, @captain-america5, @liadamerondjarin​, @m1rkw00dpr1ncess​, @paintballkid711​, @justanotherblonde23​, @castiel-barnes​, @itspdameronthings​

Hello readers, I am so sorry that this part took this long. I hope you enjoy reading it! Remember the taglist is open, just comment here or send me an ask/message if you would like to be added!🥰 As I mentioned in the warnings there is some mention of the Holocaust, however it is not graphic imagery but I wanted to warn readers. 

August, 1944

It was quiet now. Earlier that day the streets of Paris had been lined with citizens cheering the Allied Forces as they rode into the city. Poe had collected so many roses from the adoring crowds that he had enough to give you two dozen.  You’d found a glass jar and they were now sitting on the small table besides your cot, the sweet smell permeating the air. 

Currently your head was resting on Poe’s bare chest, listening to his heart beat, as well as the drunk Frenchman singing outside your window.  In a few days he’d be moving out of Paris with his unit, while you would be staying behind and treating the wounded. You knew that this was coming at some point--the Army was going to station your unit in a more permanent place--and Poe would be on the move. Because of this you clung a bit more tightly to one another tonight.

“I’m gonna miss Paris.”

“Why? Because all those random girls wanted to kiss you?”

Poe chuckled and pressed his lips to your temple. “It did give a whole new meaning to French kiss.”

You playfully hit him on the shoulder and laughed. Someday, you would get to lounge in bed like this, without a care in the world--without the war right outside your window. “You’re an idiot.”

“Arana says I’m a lovable idiot.”

“True. And you’re my lovable idiot.”

His finger ghosted over your cheek, his brown eyes softening as he gazed at you with so much love in them. “Do you know for the first time since this war began I actually feel hope that we might win this? That I might actually walk away and be able to go home to the ranch and build a life with you.”

It was so easy to feel hopeful when he talked like that, you realized. Softly you played with his hair. “What’s the ranch like?”

Poe smiled, softly. “Hot.”

You returned his smile. “Hotter than the South of France in August?”

“Much hotter.”

“Can you see for miles?”

“Miles and miles of blue skies and rolling hills.”

“Are there horses?”

“Lots of horses.”

Closing your eyes you tried to imagine the ranch where Poe had grown up. You’d grown up in the city--there had been no wide open spaces or horses--other than the ones pulling carriages or police officers rode. “I always wanted my own horse when I was a little girl.”

Poe ran his fingers through your hair, heart softening at the thought of you as a child wishing for a pony.. “Do you know how to ride? I could always teach you.” 

Even thought you had not been able to have a pony when you were growing up, your parents did provide you with riding lessons. “I know how to ride but it’s been a few years--I might need a refresher course.” 

“Something to look forward too then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I know the perfect spot on the ranch to ride out to.”

Placing a kiss on his shoulder, you smiled. Tomorrow morning both of you would be back in the thick of the war, but for now, it was just the two of you, dreaming about the future. 

Poe wrapped you tightly into his arms and kissed your temple. He was dreading having to say good-bye to you tomorrow morning but he would at least have peace of mind knowing that you were safe in Paris while he pressed on with the Army deeper into Europe.  Since taking back France there was a new sense of hope resonating with the boys--they were going to see this through to the end--they were going to win.

You fingers brushed his hair back. He’d gone back to trimming his curls since he’d left the hospital in England, but you still loved how incredibly soft his hair was. “What are you thinking about?”

A gentle smile spread across his face as he looked at you. “Just feeling incredibly hopeful.”

“Me too.”

“A year from now we’ll be on the ranch--you’ll see--it will be over, finally.”

--------

September, 1944

It wasn’t often in the last few weeks that you got to leave Paris. There was still heavy concern about Nazi troops inciting guerrilla warfare in the forests and along the country roads that led to towns and villages outside of the city. You had already been injured thanks to one sniper before--you didn’t want to go through that experience again.

However, a few volunteers had been asked to assist with the medical needs of some prisoners that had recently been freed from a Nazi camp. 

There was far less destruction out here in the countryside, although there was still evidence of war, of the Allies heavy bombing runs. Poe couldn’t talk about those, at least not with you and you weren’t sure if it was because he was sworn to secrecy or if the very idea that he could kill innocent people rendered him speechless. You surmised it was both. 

His letters that last few weeks had been short, upbeat; he would let her know if Arana was fine--still a pain in my ass, but I love him--Poe had written. 

“Lieutenant,” the driver said, pulling your attention away from daydreaming. “Did the Army give you any forewarning about what you’re going to see?”

“No,” you said with a shake of your head, suddenly feeling a pit forming in your stomach. “Is it that bad?”

“Treated them worse than animals,” the driver mumbled as pulled down a long, narrow drive that led to a stone farmhouse. “And they’re not soldiers ma’am--civilians, French civilians. The French Red Cross has been caring for them, but with the war still going on, it’s overwhelming. They asked for some help.”

Something inside of you sparked, the conversations you’d heard your father have with other men in the neighborhood when he thought you were not within earshot.  What had you agreed to expose your nurses too? Already they had seen so much--too much. 

The jeep came to a stop in front of the farmhouse. You glanced at it for a moment, a picture of the French countryside at the onset, but you knew inside.... it was a much different story. Stealing yourself, you took a deep breath and got out of the jeep. With your medical bag in hand, you headed inside to find the doctor in charge. 

It was eerily quiet. Beds lined walls with far too thin men, women, and children.  A French nurse handed you a mask, told you to put it on because they were dealing with an outbreak of influenza. Judging by the condition of the patients, this came as no surprise to you; they had no immune systems to combat even a cold. 

Slipping the mask on you, you buried your emotions and got to work. Later, when you sat down to write a letter to Poe, you’d let them all out. But for now, you had work to do.

------

Eight hours later, you found yourself hugging a toilet bowl. In all your lifetime, you had never seen people so sick, so frail, or so thin. Not even when you and your mother had traveled to rural parts of New York to help people in need during the Depression had you seen such horrendous conditions.

The Army private that had driven you to the farmhouse had been right--these people had been treated worse than animals. 

“Lieutenant?” Jess called from the other side of the door. “You okay?”

“No,” you answered, truthfully before vomiting again.

“Can I come in?”

“Enter at your own risk.”

Slowly, the. door to the bathroom opened and Jess stepped inside. She closed it behind her before speaking. “I know this probably means nothing to you--but the way you held it together today, it really helped all the girls. I don’t know how you did it.”

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you answered her, honestly, “I’m not sure how I did it, either. My parents helped several families get out of Germany before the war began, they told us stories but I never...I never thought it would have been like this.”

Jess sat down next to you, pressing her back against the vanity. “I don’t think anyone could have imagined it was like this, Lieutenant. How could anyone sane imagine this?”

You had to agree. Dropping back on your feet, you glanced exhausted at your friend. She looked just as drained as you; the pair of you had spent the entire day helping treat patients and listen to the ones that could communicate with you what they had been through--ripped away from their families, losing everything they owned. None of them were sure if members of their families were even alive--they had been sent away to other countries--you had heard the word Auschwitz a few times. 

“Do you think Captain Dameron is right?”

“About what?”

“The war being almost over.”

“I think he wants it to be almost over.”

“Me and him both.”

Sighing, you swallowed the sour tasting bile in your throat, wishing you could unsee the sick and dying people today. Suddenly you were feeling Poe’s absence harder than ever--you wished he was here so he could pull you into his arms and just tell you that it was going to be okay. 

Jess reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. “Maybe you should go write to him.”

You glanced at her, incredulously. “How did you know I was even thinking about him?”

“Because if the man I was gonna marry was that good looking--I’d be thinking about him all the time as well,” she said, with a big smile.

“He is pretty cute,” you said, returning her smile. And then you both started laughing. When the laughter had died down, you rested your head on Jess’ shoulder. “Thanks, Jess. I feel better.”

“Anytime, Y/N,” Jess said, softly. “You don’t have to shoulder all this alone, especially if we’re going to be here helping these poor people for a while. We’re going to need each other to lean on.”

[lilacmiracle]

The Terrifying Case of Iplier Manor - Chapter 1

Beta read by @mysterio-is-the-truth

Fandoms: Markiplier, Buzzfeed Unsolved

Note: Quotation marks are Ryan narrating, bold is Shane speaking, italics are Ryan speaking, both bold and italics is the psychic, both bold and italics and in all caps is the spirit box

(AO3) Words: 4,356

The video opens on a series of clips that are presumably filmed later in the episode. The first clip shows Ryan in front of a broken mirror while looking over at Shane, asking, breathlessly, “What the fuck?” The second clip shows Ryan, still in front of the broken mirror, with a bottle of what is presumably holy water. He sprays it at Shane. The third and final clip shows Ryan, Shane, and a new person, all in a different room, this one with a wood fireplace, with a flashlight that has been brightly turned on. The flashlight switches off, and Ryan screams very loudly. 

The video then cuts to the intro for most ‘Supernatural’ episodes, with the building in the background being a version of the Manor, rendered in a 2-Dimensional style.

The video then cuts to Ryan and Shane standing in front of the double doors to the Manor, with Ryan on the right and Shane on the left.

“We are here at Iplier Manor, site of the Warfstache Disappearances, for this season’s finale and my one demon sacrifice for this season.”

I’m really fucking scared, man. I -- I don’t wanna do this.

It’s fiiiiiine. I mean, what’s the worst that’s gonna happen? Spooky lawyer ghosts?

We could die! We could disappear like those other people!

Only if the Colonel comes.

“This house, if it is, in fact, inhabited by a demon, is by far the most dangerous location that we have ever investigated. As such, we have brought in a psychic to help us in our investigation.”

The new person from the third clip steps into frame. She appears to be an older woman with short, gray hair and loose clothes. She is wearing loose necklaces and an abundance of bracelets that hang off of her wrists.

Hello, my name is Lily, and I am here to help these two with their investigation on this Manor right here.

With that, the Ghoul Boys™ and Lily head inside of the Manor.

I have a Bible and my holy water.

You’re gonna be fine, Ryan.

I sure hope so.

“This episode is going to be rather out of the ordinary with regards to our other demon investigations, considering the fact that we have already covered the history of this house in our last True Crime episode. However, there are a few odd occurrences inside of these walls that were not covered in that video.”

The video cuts to black, fading into a black-and-white image of Mark Iplier. Ryan’s narration continues.

“This Manor has a long history of misery, being the place of many a divorce and untimely death, all of which were ruled to be by natural causes. Things start getting weird when the actor Mark Iplier buys the house for himself and his new wife, Celine Iplier, in early 1913. Investigators found a diary that is believed to have been owned by Celine Iplier. The entries in this diary paint a terrible picture -- Mark was being twisted into the form of a monster, wrote one entry.”

The image on the video had shifted into an image of Celine when Ryan mentioned her. Now, it shows an image of aged paper, with a message written in practiced cursive. A female voice begins to read:

“Friday, February 20, 1914,

This house has become more and more oppressive. I sense darkness within it, and I think that Mark does as well. I am concerned, for if he feels what I can -- he is not trained in anything beyond our world, he has no access to what is past our mortal realm. For the house to make itself known, even to him, is a sign of something terrible.

I can feel him changing, shifting; he has been ever since he bought this place. Hell, he changed the moment he set foot through those damned doors. I don’t know what the house is twisting him into -- I just know that I won’t like the end result.”

There is a sound effect of the turning of a page, and the image onscreen is replaced by a new one -- another aged piece of paper, the same perfect penmanship, a different message that’s somehow even more ominous. The same voice begins to read:

“Wednesday, August 5, 1914,

Mark hasn’t gotten a job in months. He quit the studio in June, and he keeps telling me that he’ll try for a job with another. He’s not going to, and I don’t have to be psychic to see that. He keeps wasting away in his office, today is no different. He keeps going to the wine cellar, but whenever I go, no wine is missing.

I don’t know what he’s doing. Mark’s beginning to scare me -- he fired our butler. Again. He wouldn’t have done that two years ago. This Mark isn’t the one I married two years ago, either. 

This house is twisting him, and I fear the image that he is being molded to. My concerns aren’t being listened to, either -- everyone’s saying it’s the stress of the War. That’s not it, wars don’t make men stay away from their wives for weeks at a time. Wars don’t make men fire staff member after staff member, or buy car after car, while doing nothing at all with the luxuries that they’ve bought. Wars don’t change men like Mark has changed.

I want my husband back. And I want this fucking house burned to the ground.”

Another page turn, another piece of paper. It’s still old, and still covered in Celine’s perfect handwriting. A new message is upon it.

“Friday, May 14, 1915,

Mark is dead, and whatever’s walking around in his body isn’t him. I’ve mourned and made my peace with that. The thing wearing his face is a selfish and awful monster.

It still hosts parties like Mark did -- the same poker nights that are always won by (the writing is redacted. Written over it, in white, is “The District Attorney,” despite the fact that the person that it must be referring to won’t even be the DA for another 5 years), the same cocktail parties for the sole purpose of social climbing. Those parties are the same as before, which is almost insulting. The only difference is that Mark, our friends and I used to make fun of the pompous jerks, afterward. Now he sends them home with everyone else. He never speaks to me, either.

Parties are the only times I see my brother anymore. I miss Damien, almost more than I miss Mark. But I know that Damien is within reach. I know that I can worm my way past the monster, if only for a few hours. But Mark is too far gone to even be contacted through the beyond. I fear that I will never see him again, even after I die. That almost scares me more than the monster.”

Another entry.

“Saturday, October 7, 1916,

William returned yesterday. He says to call him Colonel now, but I don’t think I ever will. It’s too impersonal, and it glorifies the War far too much. The War cost William his leg, and too many others their lives.

Will may be my only escape from the monster. He hasn’t let me leave this house in months, not even to see Damien. There’s a poker night on Tuesday, the 10th. I know that William will be there, and I know that the layout of the house will disorient him. When he gets lost in the house, I can find him. He’ll be away from ‘Mark,’ far enough away that I can convince him to run away with me. I know that he will, I know that he still loves me, even after our breakup, and even after my wedding.

I only have one chance to escape. William is my last hope, and if I fail, my fate will be at the hands of the monster.

At times like this, I think of my husband. My real husband. I miss Mark dearly, but I know that I could never bear to look at him if he came back. His image has been far too tainted by the thing that is wearing his face.

This will be my final entry. I am hiding this diary in the hopes that it may one day be found by those who may purchase this accursed Manor. Know that if I have mysteriously died or disappeared, it was caused by something taking the form of Mark Iplier. 

Know that this Manor isn’t safe.”

Well that was something.

That was an adventure. We’ve got body snatchers, we’ve got cursed houses, we’ve got reclusive husbands. Hell, this would make a great book!

(wheeze)

“These diary entries tell the horrifying tale of Celine Iplier, who was terrorized by the demon within this very Manor. It took the form of her husband, Mark Iplier, whom she was later able to divorce. She regained her maiden name, which has now been lost, along with many other names of those present at the party almost exactly four years later.”

What’s weird -- and I mean it’s really fucking weird -- is she did still disappear mysteriously. With whatever made itself look like her ex-husband.

That is weird, yeah, but it’s also four years later. I think it’s a coincidence.

But it’s four years to the day!

Coincidence. Although -- this does paint Warfstache in a whole new light.

It does, actually. He’s the hero now!

Good for him.

“Speaking of Warfstache, we are now going to be entering the room that matched the location of his supposed ‘séance room.’ When it was investigated, there was no evidence of anything supernatural at all, though it doesn’t hurt to look.”

The crew enters the room, which is set up with a table in the center. Around it are three chairs, presumably meant for Shane, Ryan, and Lily. There are three lit candles sitting on the center of the table.

We are going to be performing a séance in this room, the one where Damien and Celine allegedly disappeared. We will be attempting to contact their departed spirits, in the hopes that they will be able to give us answers as to the events that transpired in this house.

Shane, Ryan, and Lily all sit at the table. They join hands around the table, encircling it.

Close your eyes, everyone.

Shane, Ryan, and Lily all close their eyes.

We are reaching out to one or both of the twins Damien and Celine, who disappeared in this house in the year 1920. If either of you are present, please send us a sign.

Nothing happens for a moment. The room is silent, the only light coming from the flames of the candles.

Lily visibly shudders.

Something is here. I do not know who, or what, it is. Ryan, if you could ask your first question?

Yes. Are you Damien or Celine?

I -- I just felt a “No.” In my head. I don’t think that it’s either of them.

Are you, or were you, human?

Another “No.”

Are you a demon?

Lily breathes deeply, as if steeling herself.

“Yes.”

Ryan visibly tenses. Shane continues his questioning.

Are you the demon that looked like the actor guy?

Lily becomes unnaturally still for a moment, as if she’s listening to something that nobody else can hear.

It -- it says that it never looked like him. It never possessed him. It just ... spoke to him. Are you intending to harm anyone in this circle tonight?

Silence. The video cuts ahead, almost imperceptibly, as everyone is still in the same position as before.

Fifteen minutes have passed with no answer. The demon has ended the séance.

Lily opens her eyes and releases Shane and Ryan’s hands. The others follow suit.

I’m really freaking out now.

You’ve got your holy water, man. And your Bible.

I -- yeah. I have holy water and I’m not afraid to use it.

You think it was telling the truth? About not possessing the guy?

Are you actually admitting that a real demon was talking to us?

I’m not admitting anything. I’m invested in the story, though.

The story.

Yeah, the story. Was the guy possessed like the wife says, or did he just become a total douche? Fame can do that to people, you know.

You didn’t need fame for that, you dick.

Shush, you.

“After the séance, we’re going to be walking around the Manor so that Lily can get a general sense of the place and if there’s anything that she can pick up on that we haven’t.”

I would just like to say, before we leave this room -- I can feel something here. Unrelated to the recent séance.

Ryan hesitates, then says, 

Please elaborate.

Something ... bad ... happened here. In this room. I sense feelings of confusion, betrayal, loss ... regret. I -- hang on.

She moves to another area of the room, closing in on herself.

Something terrible happened, right in this spot. Somebody died right here. The thing is, though, I can usually sense if it’s a masculine or a feminine presence. I can definitively say that there was at least one masculine presence, the one that died in this spot. But the other ... seems to alternate between the two. And not in a natural way, either; it feels like a woman was possessed by something male. These ‘presences’ aren’t here right now, though, Ryan, you can relax.

Ryan had tensed up, but now he relaxed slightly after Lily told him to.

These are ... echoes of people that were here, ones that went through something awful. These echoes feel very similar to each other, at least, the masculine one and the feminine part of the other. I think that Damien and Celine did die here. I can also sense that they are still wandering this plane, still stuck roaming the mortal realm ... but they left this Manor long ago. We won’t see any of them tonight.

With that, she exits the room, beckoning for Shane and Ryan to follow.

“Our first stop is by an object that most paranormal investigators have agreed is one of the most active places in this Manor.”

The crew stops near a broken mirror on the first floor of the building. There is a large hole just to the left of the center of the mirror.

There is a lot of energy here. You boys might like to use your ‘Spirit Box’ here later. I can feel ... quite a lot, a lot of people, a lot of emotion, right here. I can feel an echo of a man, just over there.

She points to an area just past the mirror, towards what appears to be a room with large double doors leading outside. They are covered by curtains, and made almost completely of glass.

There is a sense of ... pity. Towards him, from someone over here. This mirror feels ... empty. Not empty as in ‘there’s nothing there,’ but empty as in apathetic. Someone fought desperately, kicked and screamed and did everything in their power to get someone, anyone, to help them ... but nobody came. So, they slowly gave up. The fight drained until they finally realized that nobody would, or even could, save them. Now they’re trapped in the eternal hell of the mirror, abandoned by those they thought to be friends. I ... don’t know where that came from, I’m sorry.

Don’t be.

Well, I can tell you that the presence in the mirror was human, but now they’re a spirit. Neither a masculine nor feminine presence, but I think that that discrepancy is a natural one. I can also feel ... something familiar, similar to the room we were in a few minutes ago.

The séance room?

Yes. It is only an echo, but it feels ... powerful. Very, very powerful. And ... angry. On a quest for revenge, hoping to right the wrongs done unto it. Them. It feels like multiple people in one echo, which ... I don’t like that. But ... that echo held the souls of Damien and Celine, but ... not. It was them, but broken. Only bits and pieces of their souls were pieced together into this ... amalgamation. I just ... I really don’t like the energy over here anymore. May we go on?

Of course.

Shane and Ryan hang back a bit.

That was intense. Maybe it possessed her? A bit? Or the thing in the mirror was lonely, and went kind of overboard in expressing itself. Maybe?

We can ask it with the Spirit Box later. Of course, I would not be at all opposed if you didn’t want to.

Why? You scared, Shane?

It’s loud and annoying and, frankly, if I don’t have to hear it then I wouldn’t mind at all.

Yeah, it is kind of loud and annoying.

Thank you.

But we’re still doing it.

*sigh*

The video cuts to the crew walking around various hallways and into various rooms. A few occasional creaks and thumps can be heard, but they’re all easily explainable as the house settling. It is uneventful, until Lily suddenly stops at the top of a balcony on the second floor. Shane and Ryan turn around to see her grasping at the rail with a white-knuckled grip, her eyes squeezed shut.

I ... someone died here. Someones, actually. Two people died in this general area.

Can you tell us if you have any idea of who?

Yes. I need a moment, though.

She walks back to a window that she had passed a moment ago. She kneels below it, her head bowed. She stands again.

I can feel it. A man died right here, very suddenly. I would say that I smell gunpowder, but I don’t smell it, I only sense it. This man wanted justice, he wanted answers for ... I’m sorry. I don’t know.

That’s alright. Can you give any more insight as to who he was?

Yes. Something about him is very ... fixed. He stuck to what he knew, and what he was familiar with. He always had a partner, even though none of them lived to tell the tale.

The Detective.

That seems to make sense, considering everything that I’m getting from him. I think his name was ... “Abe.” 

Thank you. Now, can you tell us anything about the other death?

Yes. It was over here, I believe.

She walks back to the balcony, gripping the rail. She never looks over the edge, instead staring into the camera.

It was just as sudden as Abe’s. A gunshot. They were trying to help their partner, though they didn’t blame the culprit. Everyone was high-strung at the time, and the Detective was ‘poking the bear,’ at least, that’s what I’m getting from them.

Their partner ... this must be where the District Attorney died.

This feels eerily similar to the spirit in the mirror.

One could hear a pin drop, with how silent it got. After a moment, Lily continued.

They were shot, and then they fell over this balcony right here, all the way to the ground below.

Lily looks over the railing, gripping it with both hands. Her knuckles are white, when suddenly she reaches out, screaming,

IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR!

It echoes in the hall for a moment. Everyone, even Shane, stands there in stunned silence. Lily retracts her hand, resting both gently upon the railing. She looks down. Her eyes are closed. She murmurs, softly, almost to herself,

It’s not fair, is it?

Lily shudders and looks up and around, coming back to herself. She folds her arms tightly across her chest and breezes past the camera, murmuring, 

I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll be in the last room.

The video shows Shane and Ryan looking at each other in confusion and concern. The video shows the crew chasing after her for a bit, then cutting to a room with a couch and a fireplace, with a hardwood floor. It is the room that was shown in one of the clips that was played at the beginning of the video, the clip with the flashlights. Lily is there, with Shane and Ryan. Lily is standing in front of the fireplace.

Are you sure that you want to do this?

Yes, I’m sure. The flashlights will provide a mode of communication, so nothing will have to use me. This will actually be the safest thing that we have done thus far -- provided, of course, that we continue to adhere to the rules of proper conduct.

What are those? We haven’t heard of any kind of rules, except for not to directly incite anything to speak.

No, that’s not what I meant. You received general advice, of the kind that could be used in contact with any run-of-the-mill demon. This one, however, requires a bit of ... decorum. Most powerful demons are like that, and this Entity is no exception.

What are these rules, exactly?

You don’t need to worry, I’ll let you know if you come close to breaking any. Just continue as you were.

Okay, well, if you’re sure ... 

“We are currently sitting in the room that contained the makeshift crime scene, that was supposed to belong to Mark Iplier. The area that the body supposedly occupied was in front of that fireplace right there -” he gestured over to the fireplace “- and it is also here that he reportedly died. Once again, this was covered in our True Crime video, however, there are a few supernatural elements that we neglected to mention. Specifically, Warfstache’s reports of the body having disappeared less than 24 hours after it was discovered.”

The “poof” strikes again.

(uneasy laughter)

“There is no evidence to suggest that this body was moved through supernatural means, in fact, there is also no real evidence to suggest that a body was even here in the first place. The crude shape of a body lying on the ground was constructed of white tape, however, it was not likely that it was constructed by actual authorities, given that no records definitively place a body in this spot.”

Not to mention that the tape structure had a dick on it.

Wait, really? Like, the real outline had a dick?

Yep.

(disbelieving laughter)

“Additionally, many tests have been performed in this area to determine whether any bodily fluids, fingerprints, or any kind of remnant of a human body was present in this area. All that was found was half of a thumbprint, which could not be identified.”

The thumbprint was in the general area of where the thumb would have been, judging from the tape, but that’s not enough conclusive evidence to say, “yes, Mark Iplier did die here.”

It could’ve been any thumbprint, from anyone who was making the tape thing.

Yeah. Personally, I think that it was Iplier’s, but some may not exactly be inclined to believe that.

Lily takes the end of Ryan’s narration as her cue to begin investigating the room for an echo or a presence of any kind.

There was death here, but ... I do not sense any emotion from the victim. That’s ... very odd.

The “victim?” So the person that died here, were they mur-

NO!!!

Ryan and Shane glance at each other in shock.

Don’t say that word. It’s a rule for this demon.

Ryan gives a shaky exhale.

Thanks.

But to answer your question ... yes. The victim was ... killed by someone else.

Do you have any idea who?

I ... barely. He seems very similar to the man I sensed earlier, the one who was pitied by something near the mirror. I know it isn’t much, but ...

Thanks anyway, Lily. Now, let’s get into Shane’s favorite part ...

It’s flashlight time! 

A flashlight is set up as usual, with the setting almost hovering between on and off. It’s currently on, but it would be very easy to turn off completely. 

Okay, my first question: is anyone or anything with us right now? Please turn the flashlight off if you are willing to communicate.

The flashlight doesn’t change for a bit. Then, slowly, it dims and turns off. Ryan tenses up immediately, while Shane hardly reacts.

For the record ... this does feel very similar to the demon from earlier.

If you’re a demon, turn it back on!

The flashlight turns on almost immediately. It is shining rather brightly, brighter than before. Ryan shrinks back a bit. Shane, however, is laughing.

Turn it off ... if you’re gonna kill us!

The light turns off, and Ryan screams. Shane laughs at Ryan’s reaction.

Okay, demon, just one more question before Ryan starts talking ... turn the flashlight back on if you’re gonna disappear us like those other guys.

The camera focuses on the flashlight for a few minutes, but it remains off.

Wow, we’re not even gonna be a mystery? You’re just gonna kill us and not even bother making it interesting? You have no taste.

Shane is shaking his head in mock disappointment as Ryan laughs uneasily.

I am gonna be slaughtered in cold blood, and when I do I want it to be a goddamned mystery! I wanna be on Buzzfeed Unsolved! Fuck you!

Ryan is laughing louder now, and is beginning to relax.

Okay, uh, let’s get down to business. Did you kill the inhabitants of this Manor in October of 1920?

The flashlight remains off, immobile.

I think I scared him off.

Try one more question, Ryan?

Okay. Did you enable, or help along in any way, the deaths of the inhabitants of this Manor in October 1920?

The flashlight remains off for a moment. Then, slowly, it dimly turns itself on. Ryan jumps, but doesn’t freak out as badly as before. 

I ... I think that we’re done with the flashlights tonight.

Awww!

Shane pouts, while Ryan grabs the flashlight and turns it off. Lily stands, and nods at Ryan and Shane.

It seems that it is time to make my leave. Goodbye, you two.

Lily begins to walk away, as Ryan and Shane wave a short goodbye. Then as soon as she is about to leave the room, she stops and turns back.

Good luck. You’ll need it.

Then, she walks out of frame.

Tags: @lildevyl @ghostly-quest @turtlecrow @sandinthetardis

[sope-and-shine]

Christmas Special: Day 24

-> Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader -> Family!AU // Fluff -> Word Count: 2.6k -> Summary: Jeongguk has only ever wanted the perfect job, perfect wife, and the perfect family. This Christmas, you’ve finally been able to give that to him. -> Warning(s): Mild language??? (I forget) // nothing to really be concerned about though

When Jeongguk was younger, he’d always had big dreams of becoming a man just like his Father. He wanted to be a good, strong man, that was kind and cared for others no matter what. He wanted to have a cool job, just like his Dad’s, and be able to take care of his own family. He wanted to have a beautiful wife, someone just as beautiful and as sweet as his Mother to have a family with. He wanted someone who would take care of him and his future children the same way his mother would take care of him.

And he found you.

In college, you both shared your 9 am literature class together for your first semester. You actually didn’t even sit next to or talk to each other for the first few weeks. You didn’t even notice Jeongguk for the first time until that one day in the middle of the class when he ran in late to the lecture, but when he was running down the steps as quickly as possible, he tripped halfway on the lip of a step and tumbled down the remaining stairs until he stopped right next to you, flat on his back. You remember staring at him with wide eyes wondering if he was even conscious until his eyes opened and the first words out of his mouth were, “Well, that definitely could have gone better.” 

Your professor was livid with his outburst, but didn’t nag the boy too hard considering the fall he just had. He only demanded that he take a seat in the next few seconds or he would be removed from the room. That’s how you ended up sitting next to the clumsy boy, sharing your notes out of pity when he realized that he’d missed so much of the class already and quietly asked to borrow yours. He would occasionally make comments on your notes and how easy they were to read - he even drew a few cute little characters that made you laugh when he gave the pages back at the end of class. He then insisted that he buy you a coffee in return for letting him borrow your notes, and after a few minutes of rallying back and forth - with him insisting he definitely should and you trying your best to explain that he shouldn’t trouble himself over a few notes - but in the end you do give in to his wishes.

And that began the wonderful years that you then spent together.

From that first class and that first coffee date, the both of you soon became inseparable. It wasn’t like you treated the coffee shop like a date - but after you did become official in your Sophomore year of college, Jeongguk began to insist that the coffee date after that terrible class definitely counted as your first date together - but at the time you and Jeongguk were just starting out as friends. But as classes continued, and parties came up, and just needing someone to keep you sane in those moments; Jeongguk was the man you were looking for. Study sessions, movie nights, and even the scattered mental health day when one or both of you just needed to step back and breath for a moment. Within weeks the two of you were now the best of friends, and it didn’t take long for something more to blossom in your relationship.

Flash forward three years, and you and Jeongguk have graduated from your perspective majors, you both have amazing jobs that you managed to snag relatively quickly, and you’re now renting an apartment for the both of you. Every morning you get to wake up in the arms of your boyfriend, you get to play with his fluffy hair and leave kisses all over his face until he wakes up, you get to watch his big, doe eyes open and his bunny smile shine bright first thing in the morning. It wasn’t like you were the only one who was winning in this situation, though. Jeongguk was happy to wake up to your smiling face and your small hands carding through his hair, he loved the feeling of your lips touching every inch of his face, he loved the feeling of the warmth of your body next to his, and even when you got out of bed he was blessed with the sight of your bare legs with his shirt covering the rest of you.

Yeah, he loved his mornings with you.

The movie nights that you had back in college were now every night, usually split between Disney, Marvel, anime, or shows the both of you had started to binge on. Take out an instant ramen were constants in your lives, and it was funny just how much the two of you consumed yet continued to not gain anything - Probably due to the both of you being young, but who was really keeping tabs on this? Everyday you spent together, whether they were bad good, whether you wee sick and tired of each other or not, whether you just wanted some damn space or not, you pushed through it all so you could go to bed together in each others arms.

And that’s why Jeongguk loved you so much.

Despite the fights you did have, you would never let him leave the house or fester in anger. Despite your own ill feelings, you would always grab his hand and hold it to make sure he didn’t go anywhere until the two of you talked everything out like adults. Not only that, but when he was sick, you’d always call into his work to inform them he would not be in for the day, then you’d call your boss let her know that you’ll be in just a little later so you could make him homemade soup, you’d get him a waste bin if needed, set up his medicines, and give him a quick kiss goodbye to his temple before leaving for work. 

But you didn’t stop there. 

No.

You’ll come home with more soup from the little shop down the street for him and a silly little card just to make him laugh a little. Sometimes - if you don’t have time to grab or make a card - you’ll take pictures of every dog that you see just so you can gush over them together when you get home. And he loved every minute of it. To see your face light up when you show him every dog that you encountered on your walk to and from work, to hear you talk about your day as if you didn’t tell him everyday, just to hear you talk to him in general! He would never in a million years have imagined that he could admit he was whipped for you.

But it was no surprise that he wanted his ring on your finger.

He told his parents immediately that he was going to propose to you, and he took you on a weekend trip to see your family just so he could ask your father in person to ask you to marry him. Both parties shed tears, and both parties were elated to be joining families. He only had to ask you, and he already had a pretty good idea on how to do so. 

The two of you loved to take walks together in the spring evening, and he figured that was the best opportunity for him to pop the question. All he needed was some help from a few of your friends. So he got the boys together, called your work friends to meet him at the park an hour before you would meet him there - you thought he had to meet with Seokjin and Yoongi - and tell them the plan and send them ahead of him with the flowers and flower petals before you would arrive. 

And boy did you arrive.

He wanted to do you right and make sure you would be happy with your engagement photos, so he asked you to wear something nice so he could take you out for a date night after your walk. You walked into the park looking for him wearing a simple white, a-line, long-sleeve dress with a red scarf wrapped around your neck, and a pair of brown ankle boots. He couldn’t tell if you were wearing makeup or not, but you looked stunning even from afar. He felt his dark jeans with a light blue button down, black shoes, and a dark red suit jacket was nothing compared to how beautiful you looked. He couldn’t even imagine you looking any more beautiful - boy was he in for a surprise - but he still had a mission to do.

“Well, you clean up nice.” You compliment him, taking his hand in yours when you get closer.

He shakes his head with a shy smile, “You look even better. Shall we?”

You nod and follow him down the familiar path, enjoying the scenery around you in the peaceful park. You chat together quietly until familiar face start to appear: Jimin is the first to come up to you, saying a quick hello and handing over a rose before he just walks away without a word. You continue on despite his strange actions, but he’s followed by your work friend Ara with a flower of her own. As you continue down the path, more and more of your friends arrive to hand over flowers - at this point you have a feeling you know what’s going on - but when you reach the gazebo by the lake that’s covered in flower petals, and Jeongguk finally takes a knee and pulls out a little black box, you’re rendered even more speechless than you’ve ever been before. You knew he wanted a future with you, and he’d spoken about marrying you before, but now it was real.

You were going to be Mrs. Jeon (Y/n).

You had your wedding that winter, choosing the most convenient time of the year to get together. It was a little hectic at first with such short notice, but the both of you were able to find a wedding planner to help you arrange everything. You found your venue in a month, chose your decorations by June, you had a dress before August was through, invitations had been sent, and Jeongguk sent the food and music lists to the respective brother he entrusted the biggest day of his life with. And when the day did come, and he saw you in your beautiful dress looking like the most beautiful angel he’d ever seen before being walked by your father, he lost whatever will he had left to not cry in front of everyone he knows. But he still had you, and you wiped his tears despite having tears of your own. You took his hand in yours, and you professed every ounce of love you had for each other.

Together.

But that still wasn’t enough. He needed more to show that you were the love of his life, he needed something bigger to prove all of his devotion to you, and being the beautiful, loving wife you were, gave him that opportunity.

“Gukkie...look at how precious he is…” You cry, looking down at your newborn son resting on your bare chest. You were having your first skin to skin contact with him after 36 grueling hours of labour, and his little body had you convinced it was all worth it. But there was no reason for you to grab your husbands attention; you already had it.

Jeongguk was just doing his best not to cry after having his son come back to your room for the three of you to be alone together. 8 months ago you had told him you were pregnant with his child, 7 months ago you told him he was having a little boy, 6 months ago you first began to show his son was in your tummy, 3 months ago you were helping him unpack boxes in your new apartment, 2 months ago you were having a great time with friends and family at your baby shower, 2 days ago you still had your little boy inside of you, and 6 hours ago you finally gave birth to your first baby. He remembers every step of the way, wrote it all down as it happened so he could remember it when he was old and grey. He wanted to share everything with his son…

And now he was right here in your arms.

“Do you want to hold him, Guk?” You ask, pulling the doe-eyed man out of his deer-in-the-headlights state in the chair next to you. You giggle, “Unbutton your shirt and try skin-to-skin with him.”

He nods, standing up so you wouldn’t have to move too much after all the stress you just put your body through. He unbuttons his shirt just enough for his son to slip through, then he helps you sit up just enough so he can move your son from your arms to his own, pulling the small human close to his chest and resting in the chair next to you again. He stares down at his son, feeling the emotions bubbling in his chest where the little boy rests. Everything about him is tiny, and he’s in so much shock that he was able to create the ultimate form of love with your help.

“He’s so small..” Jeongguk whispers, fighting back the tears so he won’t disturb the baby trying his best to go to sleep. He looks to you, seeing you now resting on your side, facing him with a tired yet content smile. You look radiant even now, tired and worn out from the days activities. He’s so overcome with love just looking at you. “You’re amazing, Jagi.”

“I know.” You tease. You reach your hand out to him and he gladly takes it in his own, squeezing gently. “We did it.”

He nods, “We did it together...”

“It looks like Minjun is all tuckered out.” You comment, adjusting yourself on the bed to be more comfortable as you watch him sleep on your husband’s chest.

Jeongguk rubs the top of you hand with his thumb, “You should join him. You’ve had a long few days, so you should get some sleep while he does.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. Truthfully, you have no doubts Jeongguk can watch your little boy, but you really just never want to stop looking at him. You don’t want to fall asleep and find him all grown up just like that.

“Get some rest, baby. It’s Christmas Eve, so Santa will be coming very soon to deliver presents.” He teases, knowing the boys will be stopping by after seeing their own families and friends to drop off yours and Minjun’s presents.

“Okay.” You reluctantly agree, knowing that you’ll want to be awake at the same time your beautiful baby boy would be as well. Christmas was tomorrow, and you wanted to play with your gift all day and for the rest of your life. You settle yourself in the hospital bed, taking one last look at your son and your husband before letting your eyes close like they’ve wanted to since you gave birth a few hours ago.

Jeongguk watches you settle, warmth in his chest - and not just from his son. After years of wanting and waiting, years of joy, sadness, and high expectations, finally finding the perfect woman to spend the rest of his life with; He now had everything he ever wanted.

Just in time for it to be the best Christmas present ever.

[femboychuuya]

Soooo, here we are, a New Year

Now, this post will be different than my usual art Posts i do. A few days before the New Year hit i got kind of reminded that Art Summaries exist.

Usually people only put one Art in, i think its the "best" one which they like the most, i think.

Though i wasn't able to decide for only 1 piece for each Month, so let me take you through my whole 2024 Art Journey!

- - - ☆

Starting off, i was 19 when i started Art. Back in May was when i came up to my beloved now girlfriend Kiera and asked for Advice on Drawing and told her that i wanted to start Art.

I chose to start with Hands. (albeit i did not include those visually in my Summary)

Hands were.... well.... hands. Kiera sended me a few Videos on how to draw, recommending me a German Youtuber called DrawingLikeASir. This is where i got my basic understanding on how hands (and also Human Anatomy as a whole) work and how to draw them.

I'm very grateful that people who do Art for a long time already, share and make Tutorials to follow. It's alot easier for me when i have real time visual explanation, so DLAS's Video's really helped me alot.

Besides those Videos, Kiera gave me alot of help too. She would give me tips if my Anatomy was off, help me fixing it via voice chat or messaging and overall just helped me understand Art to the extent that i then started to do it more regularly and frequently.

- - - ☆

Now, after this Yapfest, how about we take a deep dive into my Art?

This will be the longest part, but i do have alot to share actually....

Let's start with May !

I don't have any visuals here, so i will keep this brief.

In May was the first time i actually tried learning how to draw. I did start with Hands first. Why you may ask? Because i wanted to tackle one of the presumably worst things to draw. I did a basic fanned out Hand for a few times before i started drawing Hands around things. I felt comfortable very fast with how i drew Hands back then. And that was my May more or less.

June !

Let's get a nice Picture of June out, because June is the Month i started to learn Human Anatomy. It sucked.

I tried learning Human Anatomy after i felt confident enough with hands. I experimented around a bit, tried drawing either masculine or feminine body Types, but i did struggle with both. In the end, i tried settling for more androgenous Body Types. Those were alot easier for me, and Kiera did tell me that they can be easy to work with, since i can basically "shape them like i want". So i went with it.

Pretty much my June was occupied with learning to draw a whole Human Body.

July !

In July i made alot of Progress i think, this was my Prime time for learning how Bodies work. I took Ideas from other people i've interacted with, tried a DTIYS (Do this in your Style), created a small sketch page, participated in Rimlaine Week and also started to do Digital Art!

Now, starting Digital Art was hard, it still is for me after roughly 6 months. My missfortune was, i had no pen for my Tablet. I needed to learn how to Finger Draw. It was really taxing and unforgiving on my Hand, but i still pushed through it and gave my best. I didn't wanted to stop with Digital Art just because i had no pen.

Eventually, at some point (actually 2 points, one later though) I had a pen that worked, though it broke, both of them did. So i just stayed with Finger Art.

It honestly feels more natural for me to use my Finger by now and i think i actually want to stay drawing with my Finger for now. Unless i actually get a pen that doesn't break imidiatly.

August !

Short things for August: I had an Artblock. I managed to find 1 whole picture for August.

I can't really say anything more here i fear.

September !

September.... I tried alot of new things in September! Brushes, bigger Canvases, even rendering (not visually included)

September was a nice month. I made alot of progress, pushed my comfort zones and met ALOT of great Artist's!

I tried alot of new things. Posing, shitpost doodles, multiple people, character sheets, the Nasty Dog trend (i had fun doing that) and also tried to participate in dazai hurt/comfort week, i couldn't finish it due to personal reasons.

In September, i joined a Soukoku Discord Server which is run by Kaez. I joined there with intent of talking about SKK and it developed into active talking and Art Streams nearly daily! I got ALOT and i mean ALOT of good advice and tips on how to draw from more experienced Artist's!

It truly helped me find my Artstyles and Tools i can use on my drawings.

I am very thankful that my girlfriend sended me the link to Kaez's post about this server, it has been alot of fun there and was very educational aswell!

October !

In October i still was drawing nearly every day and started to draw Characters from Kiera's and mine own Story! I also experimented with Artstyles and Chuuya's hair. His Hair was a mess, it still is, but drastically changed the way i draw his hair in that month.

I specifically also tried to stylize eyes, it failed mostly but i still tried regardless (Eyes and facial expression are hard to draw, i learned the hard way)

November !

November was the Month where i started drawing (and writing) my first AU! My 14 Year old's BunnySkk AU!

I am very proud of those beans and all i had in my brain were those 2. I did inflict pain and suffering and great Trauma on Skk, but fear not, they are well now... or are they?

Lastly, December !

Going strong with the last Month of the year, I struggled, greatly. I had alot of personal Issues coming up, but went through those with trying to do art. Art really helped me get my mind off things, due to me not having a single thought while drawing (My head is a blank slate while i draw)

But besides those struggles, i got cheered on to keep going and so i did. I delivered Art from a Ship i was first very reluctant to draw things in fear of people being well.... online people. But i eventually overcame myself and started drawing my second favourite ship... Kunichuuzai!! I absolutely love their dynamic and can't wait to get back into drawing them. I need them. Carnally.

- - - ☆

Now now, this is probably as long as it can get now, so i will try to keep myself short here. (Try is the keyword, i am a yapper at Heart)

First and foremost, i will be thanking Kiera @misterloong , for even getting and pushing me into Art. I don't think that i would have been able to accomplish what i am doing currently without your great help and Feedback!! And thank you for putting up with my sometimes breakdowns over Art, its hard and we both know that.

Secondly, i am thanking Kaez @xkaez for creating the Skk Server. I don't think i would have had such a fun time over the last months while doing art if it wasn't for sitting together in vc with everyone and equally loosing our heads over Art together. The Art struggle is real but worth it.

Third..ly? Third?.... Leaving it at that. I am thanking the VC Dwellers Soup @iwantmochisoup , Goat @thatghostinyourbog , Jema @msshinylemon , Salt @saltedbiscuiit and Killeia @nolongerforthetainted . I am thanking you all for sitting in vc together, planning things, working together on thing and just having a fun time together! I learned a shitton, and i mean a shitton from being together in VC, drawing, talking or just hanging out together. I really hope this never dies out, its really fun with you all!!

Fourthly.... Fourth....? I am thanking Rosie @anticidic , Cinny @ohhcinnybuns , Ari @nevertheblood and Brin @ediblepandas for giving me alot of Ideas and talking about all the ideas you guys had. It's always fun to lurk at night in the chats and see good ideas spring in. It might be one of my favourite pastimes aswell to just lurk in :)

And Lastly, i thank everyone else who i forgot to mention, whether its Skk server people, random online people, my mom or literally anyone who sees my stuff. I thank you for being here and supporting my Art Journey in any way you can. It has been a fun half Year of doing Art and i am so hyped for creating a full year of Art this year!!

I hope everyone who wants to do Art, starts doing Art, same with Writing or whatever other creative hobbies there are. It will bring you fun and can potentially even help you express yourself more.

On to a new Year

- West

- - - ☆

Adding on:

2 more Chibi doodles for making it to the end :>

[moniadler]

( margot robbie. twenty-nine. cis female. she / her. ) was that monika adler ? i heard a rumour they work for the faust family, but who knows for sure ? they can be a bit calculating & vindictive but i also heard they can be adventurous & ambitious. you’ll usually find them at wolves in their spare time, when they’re not being a caporegime & burlesque dancer at centro del sole. you may want to keep an eye on that one !

bonjour! it’s me again—your local trashcan chrissie with another muse. this is my precious angel ( more like a demoness, tbh but still ) bby girl monika and, to quote the legends that are queen, she’s a killer queeeeen. she’s sassy, classy and a lot badassy. she’s a rather feisty, fiery, ball of rage and anger with hella abandonment issues like woah. but uhhh, anyways, hmu for plots here or on discord, i’m open to everything and anything so fire away!

MONIKA’S PINTEREST BOARD!

fundamentals.

full name. monika odette adler.

nicknames. moni, mon, & nik.

current age. twenty-nine.

date of birth. august 15th.

gender. cisgender female.

pronouns. she / her.

nationality. american.

religion. agnostic.

birthplace. manhattan, new york city, united states.

current residence. chicago, illinois, united states.

sexual orientation. pansexual.

romantic orientation. aromantic.

education. psychology degree obtained from nyu.

past occupation. bartender, & dancer at genesis.

current occupation. burlesque dancer at centro del sole.

affiliation. the faust family.

rank. caporegime.

connections.

birth mother. unknown.

birth father. unknown.

sibling/s. unknown.

adoptive mother. rachael adler.

adoptive father. william adler. †

adoptive sister. lucy adler. †

adoptive brothers. jacob, & noah adler.

significant other. n/a.

child/ren. n/a.

pet/s. a balinese cat named tigger after the character in winnie the pooh.

proficiencies.

spoken languages. english, spanish, french, italian, german, & russian.

negative traits. brusque, obstinate, destructive, deceptive, & promiscuous.

positive traits. elegant, headstrong, observant, independent, & confident.

strengths. optimistic, energetic, creative, practical, spontaneous, rational, knows how to prioritise, great in a crisis, & relaxed.

weaknesses. stubborn, insensitive, private, reserved, easily bored, dislikes commitment, & has a rather risky behaviour.

skills. skilled with blades and various knives, skilled with firearms, hand-to-hand combat, memory recall, physical stamina, able to use initiative, & excellent problem-solving abilities.

talents. violin, piano, ballet, dancing, singing, bartending, & photographic memory.

appearance.

eye colour. blue.

hair colour. natural blonde.

height. 5′5″.

weight. 61 kg.

build. she is considered average height for a female and is both slender and toned.

scars. a rather noticeable one across her clavicle and a few others in less visible places.

tattoos. a crimson lily on her left shoulder.

piercings. both earlobes.

glasses. n/a.

prominent feature. sparkling sapphire eyes.

miscellaneous.

zodiac. leo.

strengths. creative, passionate, humorous.

weaknesses. arrogant, stubborn, self-centred.

likes. theatre, being admired, expensive things.

dislikes. being ignored, facing difficult reality, not being treated like a queen.

element. fire.

colour. gold.

day. sunday.

ruler. the sun.

lucky number. three.

house. gryffindor.

myers briggs type. istp-a ( introverted, observant, thinking, prospecting. )

alignment. chaotic neutral.

enneagram. type 7: the enthusiast ( the busy, fun-loving type: spontaneous, versatile, distractible, and scattered. )

temperament. sanguine.

intelligence type. intra-personal.

character label. the vixen.

diseases. infertility.

past mental disorders. drug abuse, acute stress disorder, depression, & anxiety.

current mental disorders. addiction, & abandonment issues.

addictions. tobacco, cocaine, & alcohol.

vices. lust, greed, & wrath.

virtues. temperance, diligence, & humility.

allergies. penicillin.

diet. vegetarian.

dominant hand. ambidextrous.

accent. american.

blood type. o negative.

felonies. petty theft charge when she was fifteen. she also has a history of both kleptomania, & pyromania when she was a teenager.

vehicle. red 1966 shelby 427 cobra.

background.

( triggers for abandonment and abandonment issues ) in truth, monika isn't entirely sure where—or how—her story originated. well, minus the obvious: the birds, the bees, yadda yadda. whether or not her biological parents ever actually cared for her or loved her will remain one of life's greatest mysteries. at only one month old, she was discarded by those who gave her life; left abandoned and unwanted. a feeling the girl would grow up carrying around like a weight around her neck for the rest of her life. an incessant voice telling her she wasn't worth it, niggling at her every single time she would allow herself to get close to another human being. a dark shadow looming over her shoulder, whispering sinister thoughts into her ears—warning her that everyone would eventually leave in the end. they would always leave in the end.

( trigger for a mention of foster homes ) monika's earliest memories feature fragmented visions of various foster homes and the faces of many guardian figures; some good, some bad and some not worth even mentioning. that was her life for the majority of her childhood—bouncing from one home to another but never sticking in one place for too long. given her turbulent upbringing, she was somewhat of a difficult child. too boisterous, too unruly, too stubborn, too inquisitive. too much of everything but never enough of anything. never enough for anybody to want her. 

( trigger for a mention of adoption ) finally, after eight long years of being uprooted and thrown into new environments time and time again, monika was adopted by the adler family. and, from that instant onwards, her upbringing was mostly positive. of course, she was thankful and grateful that she had been welcomed into their family and given a good life. things could have been a lot worse for her and she knows that. still, it didn't take the girl too long to figure out that it was just her alone, against the big bad world. from the age that she was old enough to realise it, monika knew that she had to fend for herself—that she could never truly rely on a single soul but herself. rachael and william adler were the best family that she'd ever had. the only family that she ever truly felt she might have belonged to. the only family that she cared enough about to continue carrying their last name, even to this day.

however, once monika reached a certain age, her personality shifted south. she was outgoing as ever but soon became meddlesome, troublesome and much too outspoken. the hollowness inside her chest never quite satiated, leaving her empty and only too well aware of the lack of her real parental figures. as a young adolescent, this started to crawl under her skin and mess with her mind. it rendered her void of affection and unable to form genuine bonds with others—filling her with deep-rooted resentment that festered beneath the surface of the indifferent demeanour she plastered over herself every day. no matter what the adler family done, monika always felt starved of love. despite their best efforts, monika never felt fully satisfied—as if some integral part of her heart was missing, leaving a gaping void nobody could ever fill. thus, as a teenager, she started searching for a cure in the wrong places. she fell in with the wrong crowd, causing trouble for both herself and her family.

as a result of her out of control behaviour, monika found herself shipped off to an esteemed all-girls boarding school from the ages of fourteen to eighteen. once again, she felt as if she was being cast aside. admittedly, at first, it didn't seem so bad and although she took a while to settle in and adjust, it wasn’t long until the girl found her feet and made her mark. she had always been intelligent so it was no surprise that she excelled in her classes and extracurriculars. of course, true to form, she remained prone to rebellion every so often, but never enough to become detrimental. she had a small group of friends and the clique was rather close-knit and she finally felt she belonged somewhere.

( triggers for mentions of death, cancer, mental health issues, alcohol, and drugs ) however, as all good things do, they come to an end. in monika's case, those few blissful years reached a rather abrupt cessation—taking a drastic plummet into darkness. she was sixteen when her younger sister, lucy, tragically passed away after battling leukaemia. as a result, monika lost control of herself and of her path in life. she spent weeks alone and aimless, wavering on her tracks. she became isolated and withdrawn. she hid away in her dorm room that school year, only leaving to go to classes. she became quiet, reserved and wanted to be alone. after months of this—reverting to type—she went looking for stability in the wrong places once more. running with the ‘wrong’ crowd was simply something that came naturally to monika, as if she felt comfort in pressing the self-destruct button when times got tough. for her last year at school, she partied hard, drank way too much, experimented with drugs and with people and although these instances gave her a thrill, it never lasted too long. therefore, she continually crawled back to the things and the people she knew deep down was no good for her. but as long as she felt the high, nothing else mattered.

( triggers for mentions of death and huntington’s disease ) after she graduated, she moved back home to her adoptive parents and brothers, which, at first, felt as gloomy as she'd expected with the absence of her sister. due to her lifestyle in the final year of her education, monika's grades didn't quite cut it—not for her dreams of attending an ivy league university, anyway. after some consideration ( and the encouragement of her mother ), she attended night classes in order to obtain better grades before she managed to obtain a place at nyu where she studied psychology. but, once again, tragedy hit the adler's like a freight train. the summer before she left for university, her father passed away. while monika had always known that william's death was imminent given the fact that he had huntington’s disease, it didn't make the reality hurt any less. still, monika knew that life had to move on—as it always had—thus, she had no choice but to pack up her belongings and move to into her new home for the following few years: nyu campus.

during her university years, monika worked a lot of jobs around new york while visiting her family home on weekends. finally, once she graduated with rather impressive grades, she'd decided that her life was no longer tethered to manhattan. so, aged twenty-two, she packed up and travelled around the states for two years until, eventually, she wound up in chicago. in the beginning, she managed to get herself a job at genesis as a bartender where she met oliver faust ( without knowing his surname, of course ). completely clueless as to his prominence within the city, the two had a one night stand, seemingly never to see one another again. at least, until a year later.

after bartending in the club for quite some time, monika plucked up the courage to take her work a step further and take her place on the stage as one of the dancers. it was during this time that she met another faust member and quickly, the two became friends and through this friendship, only then did monika find out a little background information on the faust name. this faust member was the one who brought monika into the fold where she started as an affiliate. of course, you could imagine her surprise when she uncovered oliver's role as the boss—especially after a whole year had passed since their first encounter. regardless, monika felt secure and welcomed among the faust family, thus she was more than happy to work for them.

due to her no-nonsense approach and attitude, and her ability to handle herself whilst dancing, she found herself promoted to a solider. then, after ‘dealing’ with a target ( a regular at genesis who just so happened to request a dance from monika every night ) under the guise of an escort, the blonde was swiftly advanced to a crimson whilst continuing to dance at genesis. after maintaining the role of a crimson for a year, she climbed the ranks where she now remains a caporegime while now dancing at centro del sole. 

throughout her twenty-nine years of life so far, monika has built herself back up time and time again. with every punch swung her way ( both figuratively and literally ), she has risen to her feet each time. for as intelligent as she is, she is just as resilient and unyielding. the need to prove people wrong is almost overwhelming but never to her detriment. while she continues to bear the emotional scars of her past, monika refuses to write herself off. she allows herself to admire people, history, art, music, places, but she never grows comfortable enough that she is prepared to show even the people closest to her, her innermost, truest self.

as a result of her chaotic upbringing, fragments of monika are broken beyond repair—lost to the depths of her mind. yet deep down inside, the faintest sliver of that optimistic little girl remains. where she is now is precisely where monika wants to be and perhaps this is the exact path she needs to take in order to fully emerge from the ashes of her haunting past. from her teenage years, she easily fell under the bracket of an adventurous, charming, ‘party girl’ which hasn't altered much over the years. honestly, monika is content with playing this ‘role’ of a carefree, curious, typical blonde as she finds it helps with her work. after all, how unsuspecting does the pretty blonde dancer seem? not many people look at her and realise just how deadly she is underneath.

all in all, monika gets from one day to the other by dancing her worries away or drinking her problems out of her head. she rarely lets herself get attached to anybody and builds the highest walls around herself to ensure nobody wants to put the effort into trying to break them down. it's that little voice that's rattled around inside her head from childhood that has her this way—still telling her she isn't worth it. and she believes it. she believes that if she ever slowed down and stopped adopting her reckless lifestyle that the emptiness and loneliness would creep in and hold her prisoner. and if there's one thing that monika adler swears she'll never be, that's a slave to her mind or to anybody else.

some tidbits.

nicknames: monnie, moni, mon, nik, barbie, blondie ( if u wanna lose ur eyes ) … spawn of satan  >:-)

scared of goats. thinks they’re satanic creatures. those eyes are hella creepy, don’t even try and tell her otherwise.

her signature scent is chanel N°5.

she’s fearless af. throwback to her upbringing, most likely.

she’s all sweet smiles and charming words until her expression turns sharp and deadly. it’s her tactic to entice then pounce, if you will.

she loves to surprise people. most assume she’s a pretty blonde but oh, she loves the look of shock on their faces when she waves a knife at them.

in a way, her words are like her weaponry but really, monika would much prefer to point a gun in a person’s face. plus, it’s more efficient, she thinks. 

an angel of vengeance in a pair of designer sunglasses tbh. 

much prefers to be called a murderess / demoness as she believes it has a nicer ring to it rather than murderer / demon. she’s dramatique like that.

owns waaay too many pairs of heels.

her signature look is her blood-red lips.

often wears suits and totally rocks them.

she’s … experimental. she’s experimented with just about everything: hairstyles, clothing, drink, drugs, people …

quite power hungry tbh.

she does have a shot at redemption but she doesn’t want it lmao. she’s already been to hell so why bother trying to right her wrongs?

and boy, are her wrongs a century long list shkjsh.

doesn’t believe she’s capable of loving anyone.

when it comes to whether or not she is morally decent or an extremely bad person, she is somewhere in the middle of that spectrum—she isn’t heartless but she isn’t compassionate either. 

she’s v ambitious, v morally ambiguous, v self-serving and v self-involved.

extremely skilled with knives and blades. always her weapon of choice when on a job. always carries one on her person at all times.

although she wears a lot of red, black is actually her favourite colour. she feels her most powerful in an all-black outfit.

her most prized possession is her brushed chrome zippo. it has her initials engraved on it and where she got it or from who is something she’ll never tell.

always seen with a cigarette in hand. she seriously chain smokes. always says she needs to quit but never does and probably never will either.

when she was a little girl she’d always dreamed of having kids of her own one day and told herself she would love them unconditionally and never abandon them as her birth parents had but unfortunately, she is infertile and the likelihood of having her own kids one day is extremely slim. this is something that devastates her every day but you’d never tell. she has never told anybody about this.

drives way too fast but loves the thrill of it.

she can be pretty deadly if you piss her off enough.

thrives on chaos.

a tad theatrical.

is truly an independent woman who don't need no man.

plot ideas.

ok so pls excuse me and my last two remaining brain cells—we try real hard but it's tough skjhjks but gimme all of the connections from friends, frenemies, enemies, hookups, exes, rivals and everything else in between. added bonus if there’s angst or drama. if you have anything in mind feel free to throw it at me, i’m open to the majority of things and have zero triggers so come at me bro! below you can find some connections i’d love for my deadly bby.

the faust member who brought her into the fold. open.

her adoptive brothers. open and open. ( their names are listed as jacob and noah, but this can be changed if ya ain’t feeling those names! )

you’re a bad idea, but i like bad ideas. so, this could be somebody that monika knows through her dancing at genesis. maybe this gentleman pays for private dances and tips extremely well? i have an idea in my head that this man would trust monika and confide in her. in a way, she’d kind of act as a therapist for him and his paying for her private time would be more about talking than anything else. maybe over time, she would tell him things about her past or about the things she has done. maybe he could be somebody who, when he/if he realises she works for the fausts, asked her to take out a target for him. there are endless possibilities for this one! of course, added angst if he’s affiliated with a different gang. OPEN.

when friends become enemies. maybe this person and monika were friends from new york that she hung around with and got involved in reckless behaviour with. or maybe this person was someone monika befriended during her university years. or they could be someone that monika met when she moved to chicago. under whichever circumstance they met, one fact remains: the two are no longer on friendly terms. they were once close and trusted each other with anything but now, there is obvious hostility. perhaps there was a betrayal, blackmail, a breach of trust, lack of communication, a simple misunderstanding. whatever it was that cracked this relationship is set in stone and is unlikely to ever go back to how it once was. some things are just too broken to be mended. OPEN.

you’re in my veins, you fuck. monika has always had bad habits. has always gravitated to toxicity like a moth to a flame. thus, it would be safe to assume that 90% of her relationships have also been bad for her. the broken element inside her always found itself magnetised to the darkness in people. more especially, attracted to people she knew were no good for her. though, in the end, monika would always manage to break free and leave these people behind. however, there was always this one person she couldn’t seem to stay away from. she met them when she moved to chicago and instantly she knew they would break her heart yet it didn’t deter her from continuing to crawl back to them. these two have what can only be described as a toxic relationship. neither is good for the other yet neither can seem to walk away. OPEN.

if you don’t have enemies, you don’t have character. of course, it goes without saying that monika is the kind of woman who could make enemies for herself very easily. due to her sarcastic and distant nature, it would be safe to assume she has quite a few enemies and rivals. though this particular person would be the enemy of all enemies. somebody that she cannot abide and someone who cannot abide her either. they can’t stand the sight of each other and refuse to share the same space unless absolutely necessary. otherwise, there’s a massive chance of a fight outbreaking between them. there could be a history between them that has brought about their hostile nature toward each other. or they could simply dislike each other for no real known reason other than a sense they get from the other. bonus points if they’re walsh affiliated! OPEN.

a gal gang / her ride or dies. taken by amara ricci, & genevieve bisset.

a chance encounter / one night stand. taken by oliver faust.

[exit-path]

Alright! Let’s get this done!

It’s less than 40 days until the one-year anniversary of my “Hi! I made something cool!” pinned post!

I’ve wanted do something like that again. I want to make another isometric render of something in Minecraft, all in a 2D image editing software, by hand.

But there’s a problem. I don’t know what to make.

I have a bunch of ideas on things I could make! But I don’t know which one to choose! And I don’t want to choose randomly, because the original isometric “render” actually took me one whole week to make. That’s seven consecutive days.

So that’s where you come in.

It’s hard and high-stakes to make one of these, so I don’t wanna mess up! I wanna know for sure what I should make.

If you could please, look through the list and see me which one(s) you’d like me to make. Then, tell me what your thoughts are in a reply or reblog. I’ll read through them, and in about 36 hours after I post this I’ll make my final decision on what I’ll render!

(You don’t need to interact with this post if you don’t want to. You can scroll past it if that’s the case.)

Remember, in the end, the result should be something of this caliber. This is what I made back then. And this is the level of quality I’m striving for again.

(I won’t post my render on the one-year anniversary, mind you. I’ll post it the day that I finish it, whenever that may be. I just mentioned the one-year anniversary so we’re all on the same page here.)

1) The other Skyblock islands

This is pretty self-explanatory. I rendered the main Skyblock island, right? Well why don’t I just render the other two and call it a day? I’m finishing the job. This is like the obligatory sequel for a hit movie.

One’s a sand island you reach once you bridge over from the main island in normal Skyblock. The other’s made of glowstone and you reach it when you build a nether portal and travel through the nether to link up with the portal on the other side.

Now, from a “making the render” standpoint, the problem with this is that it probably won’t be fun to make as the first one. Like, the other original Skyblock island at least had interesting shapes to work with, it had depth, and it posed a fun challenge. These other islands are just 3x3x3 cubes made of the same block.

Plus, people might not care to see the new render. People always like the sequel less than the original movie. And I’m thinking that might be true for something as esoteric as a post about a Minecraft render made with 2D image editing software.

2) My Survival House

You might be confused seeing this on the list. Like, everyone’s seen or played Skyblock so that makes sense, but this? This is my singleplayer survival house. Very few have seen it; nobody but me has ever been to it. Let me explain.

I played on this world from September to October 2020. In that time, I built a starter base, a mine, and a cow barn/wheat farm. This is the starter base. It doesn’t look like much, but that’s only because we’re on the surface. Let’s go into spectator made and bring the camera under.

Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!

Yes, the majority of my “starter base” is underground! (The image is slightly edited to highlight where it is.) If I were to render it, I would show the bit that’s at the top, connected to everything underground.

There’s a lot in this base! Immediately down the ladder from the house at the surface, there’s a room full of chests and that contains a jukebox where I can play music discs.

Then on the floor below that there’s my furnace room, my portal room, my map room, and my spruce tree farm. Down another floor you can find a room where I intended to grow cactus for a brief period of time.

I’ve spent a lot of time in this base. However, I’ve never seen it in full, in isometric view. And I sure would like to. Because perspective in 3D constantly hides different parts of my base when I view it from different angles. Isometry is an idealized reality.

If I were to render this, you’re agreeing that I’m doing this for myself. I love this world, and I’ve spent many days in the past excited to come back to it. This is a bit of sentimentality, a tribute to myself.

3) My 1.0.0 Survival Base

Now, you might be starting to recognize a pattern here. (Image slightly edited to highlight where the survival base is.) And no, it’s not that I really want to isometrically render my survival worlds for some reason.

Yes, I apparently like building my survival bases underground, I know, shut up >:P

I played on this world from March to September 2019: the longest I played on a survival world so far. Virtually only one other person knows about this world.

The entire time I played on it, it was in Java Edition 1.0.0: the earliest and first full release of Minecraft. I accessed the version by using the dropdown menu on the Minecraft launcher.

As a result of being in 1.0.0, the entire survival experience was changed, and that posed a lot of unique challenges. For example, how do you mine out large regions of land if beacons haven’t been created yet? How do you enchant tools if anvils aren’t in the game yet?

Playing on this 1.0.0 world has acted as my greatest insight into “old Minecraft” so far.

If I were to render this base, I would only render the underground portion (which I hollowed out of a naturally-generated cave, by the way). Why would I do that, if there’s probably also a house on the surface that I could render?

Because this is what that house looks like.

Yeah, this house does look incredible! I would know, I’m the one who made it all in 1.0.0. But no chance am I rendering all that.

Anyways, I want to render this world because despite all the time I’ve played on this world, I’ve never actually even seen my base as a spectator much like I’ve shown above. (Minecraft added cheats in 1.3.1. Spectator mode didn’t exist until 1.8.)

Plus, this faces the same perspective problems I mentioned for #2. So mainly, if I were to render this isometrically, I would be helping myself by letting me view my world in a lens I was never able to before.

4) A House in the Sky

This is a bit of an inside joke on my blog.

Basically, ever since August, I’ve been playing games of UHC on Minecraft minigame servers like Hypixel and Mineplex with the sole purpose of defying the point of the game and just building a house in the sky. Like a whole-ass village house. Plop. Right there.

This is the house I would build in those games. And this is what I would like to render now.

If you know me personally, then you already know what the front of the house looks like. (I’ve shown it on my blog countless times.) So that’s why in this preview, I’ve made the front of the house see-through so you can see the interior.

This is an effect I want to emulate in my render (if I ever make one). I make multiple image edits, and in one of them, both the exterior and the interior of the house are visible.

If I render this, it’s just a pointless joke. Not much else besides that 🙂

5) Something Else?

This is where I leave an open-ended answer.

Did you think of something that’s not on this list? Do you have something in mind that you’re passionate about personally, and that you’d like me to render? Do you think a couple or all of the ideas here are good, and you want me to render those couple or all of them?

Then remember to tell me in a reply or reblog!

Keep in mind when leaving your opinion that making a single render takes a lot of time and effort. Think of it this way: the original Skyblock render took one week to make.

Rendering something with half as many blocks would take four days. Rendering something with twice as many would take two weeks. Making multiple renders would take multiple weeks. So don’t forget the human aspect in all this.

Well, that’s the end of this post!

Tagging @ice-block, @gay-slime, @mojang-official, @birch-forest, and @light-blue-glazed-terracotta because they saw my original post and I’d like to hear their opinions, given that they’re big blogs in mineblr.

@emarezi and @unyanizedcatboys, I’d like to hear you weigh in on this as well.

See you in 36 hours, I guess!

[yeahyeahbaby]

Finished my first game and game jam!

Link to my game Ahh, Crabs! I realized that I haven’t posted in a while, so I thought I would write about finishing my first game and game jam, and what my next plans are.  Get ready for a fucking novel lol. 

I entered the I Can't Draw But Want To Make A Game (Again)  game jam because I wanted to make a game. Before starting the jam, I’d thought about game development and 3D modeling on and off for about a year, but hadn’t started any projects. Last summer, I’d watched BlenderGuru’s series and made a render of a doughnut which was cool and did a few tutorials on the Unity learn site, but I didn’t do anything with those newly developed skills and eventually forgot most of what I’d learned.  I’m currently 24, going to be 25 in August, and I think a lot about how I spend my time, am I on the right path, what do I want out of life, etc. All of the big existential anxiety inducing questions. I work as a front-end web developer, its a great job, but I know that I don’t want to do web development forever.  Anyway, I’d recently started thinking about game development, and wanted to try committing myself again. Game development presents the opportunity for me to create something that combines all of my interests. Art, music, technology, story telling, world building, animation, etc. It’s also appealing to me because being an indie developer means being an entrepreneur. I know that I want a life where I’m my own boss. I want to decide what projects I work on and what takes priority. I want to build a creative life where I can support myself financially from my work.  I thought about how this time could be different from a year ago where I tried to get into game development, but never committed. I started off slow by creating small assets with MagicaVoxel while I tried to come up with ideas. This is when I remembered that game jams were a thing.  I found the game jam (not going to keep typing the name cuz its long as hell lol) on itch.io and was hesitant to enter. I was afraid of starting and committing to something only to let myself down when I didn’t finish.  I’d recently started journaling and was writing about this fear that I had. I realized as I was writing that I was stopping myself from trying something because of fear. That’s when I decided to commit to entering.  The great thing about game jams is that they take place over a set period of time and you’re usually given some kind of parameters. This was EXTREMELY helpful to me because I was able to quickly come up with an idea for the game. I knew that I only had two weeks to finish. Not two full weeks because of course I work full time and have other home chores to do. Plus ya girl likes to relax and watch anime ( I think at the time I was actually reading Hana Yori Dango aka Boys Over Flowers uwu).  So being given a set time period helped me to plan a semi-realistic scope for the game.  So I started to work on the game! I had a lot of fun making silly art and music. Because the mechanics of my game were also SUPER simple, I could easily find tutorials for everything that I wanted to implement. Even with the tutorials, I still had small hiccups as I worked my way around Unity and C#, but I was never stuck for more than a few hours.  Things were going great! And then.... I stopped working on the game.  I think I didn’t work on the game for like 4-5 days?? I got off track because of some personal stuff that I had to deal with. Once it was handled, I didn’t immediately get back to work. I wasn’t really motivated anymore and I was running out of time. I felt like I had wasted time already, I wasn’t going to make the deadline so why FUCKING TRY *sobs*.  BUT! Once again, journaling saved the day again lol.  I was writing about these feelings and saw how stupid I sounded. Why TF am I giving up before the jam ends???? BITCH!!!  So I got back to work.  I think at this point I had like 3-4 days left?? Something like that. I worked my butt off , literally until the deadline. I was rushing like crazy, super determined to finish. I was keeping up with a Trello board of things I wanted to add to the game, but a lot of things had to get cut. For example, the help button, a pause game function, cleaning up the mechanics, also wanted to add some pre-game comics, etc. BUT thankfully I was able to prioritize the absolute must haves to make the game playable and shippable lol.  So, the deadline was 12am CST Friday. 11:59pm CST rolled around. And I’m still waiting for my build so I can upload it. 12am came and it was too late. I didn’t make it. I was literally sobbing. I don’t remember the last time I cried so much. I was just feeling super emotional. I had a long day at work, just spent the last 8 hours crunching to finish my game to submit to the game jam, and even though it was finished, in the moment I felt like a failure because I couldn’t submit it to the jam. I know it may sound silly, like BITCH you did the thing! You made a game! You reached your goal! Buuuut I was still feeling like shit lol.  The build finished and I uploaded it it itch.io. I was sniffling around the discussion board on the jam’s page, feeling sorry for myself, and decided to post a link to my game and let everyone know that Hey! I finished this game but couldn’t submit it in time. pls check it out *sobs* WELL! Many blessings came my way, the creator of the jam was sending unique submission links to people who missed the deadline a little! They saw my post and sent me a submission link. Of course I submitted that hoe so fucking quick lmaooo  A wave of relief washed over my exhausted shriveled body. It was time for celebration and sleep because a bitch had to go to work the next day.  I’m so thankful for this experience. I saw something that I wanted to do, I committed, almost QUIT, BUT PUSHED THROUGH AND REACHED MY GOAL!  I feel so much confidence in myself and my ability to pursue and finish my creative projects, whatever they may be.  SO WHAT’S NEXT BITCH???? Well, thank you for asking uwu I’m going to make another game! This time, not part of a jam so I have to keep myself super accountable. I want to make a game where I can learn and experiment with dialogue, camera movement, art, and sound design. I think I’ve settled on an idea but need to give it some more thought before I commit and reveal the idea.  I’m hoping for about 30-45 minutes of game play?? And I want to work on this project for 6 months, so pretty much the rest of 2020. Might as well keep myself busy while the world burns :/ If anyone is reading this and made it this far, wow, i’m impressed. I wouldn’t have read this much lol I think I’m going to make a youtube video on this topic?? I mean, if I can write a novel about it might as well talk about it on youtube. It can be my first dev-log-ish type video for the yeahyeahbaby channel (that has yet to be created lol) Okay. Bye-bye now. 

[turtle-steverogers]

Summer Nights

HOLY SHIT ME??? POSTING A FIC??? wow.....

warnings: alcohol, smoking, abuse mentions...would y’all believe me if i said its actually really fluffy? also, the use of ‘pal’ as a term of endearment because i’ve been reading way too much stucky

ship: sprace

editing: actually, yeah

word count: a whopping 4038

-

May 

“So where’d you get your fake ID?” Spot startles and chokes on the glass of Jack and Coke that he had been nursing.  His throat burns as the vile liquid travels down his esophagus much faster than he would have liked and he looks with watery eyes at the person who had spoken to him.  

The guy is tall and somewhat lanky with blonde hair that seems to shoot out in various directions.  His eyes glint behind a pair of black framed glasses and are highlighted by the bags that hang underneath them.  His face is set in a permanent smirk, but there’s a tired essence about him.

“Excuse me?” Spot manages, trying to suppress the coughing fit that threatens to overtake him.

“There’s no way you’re older than me,” The guy scoffs, “So I’m wondering how you managed to get your drink.”

Spot’s gaze travels down to the cigarette perched between the guy’s fingers, nose scrunching as the smell hits him and his neck tingles with desire.  

The guy seems to notice his stare and he scoffs, “You want one?”

Spot shakes his head, “I shouldn’t.”

“But you do want one,” The guy says slowly, raising his eyebrows, “Don’t you?”

Spot gives him a half-hearted shrug, raising his glass to his lips and taking a small sip.  

The guy chuckles, “Suit yourself,” he takes a drag, settling on the stool next to Spot.  Spot gives him a side glance as a bartender swoops past, asking to see the guy’s ID, before sliding a glass of rum and Sprite over to him.

“Where’d you get yours, then?” Spot asks, eyes flicking down to the glass as the guy snubs out his cigarette in one of the provided ashtrays.

“Hm?” The guy doesn’t seem too bothered as he knocks back half of his drink in a single gulp.

“Your fake ID.”

“Oh,” The guy says, swallowing, “A friend.”

“Oh,” Spot pauses circling his drink around for a few moments, peering at its contents, “I’m almost 21.”

The guy looks at him, eyebrows raised, “Yeah? How old are you, then?”

“Twenty,” Spot says, “My birthday’s in December.”

“You’re still like,” The guy furrows his eyebrows, thinking, “7 or so months out then.”

Spot shrugs, “Close enough.  How old’re you?”

“I’m nineteen, turning twenty in August.”

“Cool,” They fall into an awkward silence, although the guy looks generally at ease.  Spot clears his throat, motioning for the bartender to bring him another drink.  Another glass is passed to him and he brings it to his lips, intoxication swirling in his gut.

“You live around here?” The guy asks.

Spot nods, “Just got home from school.”

“Ah,” The guy nods, understanding flashing across his face, “S’that why you’re here?”

“What?”

“Well the last semester just ended, like, last week,” The guy points out, “At least it did for me, so we haven’t been home very long.  Are you already sick of it?”

“Sick of what?” Spot squints at the guy, dumbly.

“Being home,” The guy’s voice had turned from jovial to unsettlingly serious.  He fixes Spot with a hard, knowing look.

Spot squares his shoulders, turning to face the guy all the way, “Why,” he demands, “are you?”

The guy seems to shrink in on himself a little bit and Spot feels a pang of guilt shoot through him before he remembers that the guy had started it.

“What’s your name?” The guy asks, shaking out his shoulders, his smirk returning to his face.

“I don’t even know you,” Spot says, warily.

“Hi,” The guy sticks out a hand, which Spot shakes briefly, “I’m Race.  There, now you know me.  What’s your name?”

“Spot.”

“‘Cause of your freckles?” The guy, Race, blurts out.  His eyes widen and he backtracks, stuttering over his words, “Unless that’s not, like, a nickname and-”

Spot quirks an eyebrow, amusement playing on his lips, “No, you’re right,” Race’s shoulders sag in relief, “My old foster brother started calling me that when we moved in together.”

“Oh, nice.”

“Yeah,” Spot says, “Race?”

“Yeah?”

“No,” Spot shakes his head, “Why Race?”

“Oh,” Race blushes, “I don’t really know.  My dad always told me I was racing to catch up with my head and it kinda stuck.”

Spot nods, tucking the information somewhere in the forefront of his mind, but not answering.  The silence that stretches back out between them is welcome this time, a new sort of familiarity in it.  Something dynamic in the pause strikes a chord with Spot, a rare understanding bounding between them.  Race’s presence no longer renders a threat, although the mischief that seems to emanate off the other boy doesn’t go unnoticed.  But as they sit there, idly sipping their drinks, Spot becomes increasingly aware that the mischief isn’t directed at him.

“Well,” Race grunts, sliding his glass away with a sigh and checking his watch, “I’m outta here,” he hops off his stool, briefly stretching his shoulders, “see you ‘round, Spottie,” he pauses for a moment, eyes boring into Spot intensely before lightening, “try not to commit arson in your home or something.”

Spot barks out a startled laugh, “Same to you, pal.”

But Race is already gone.

XXX

“I quit last year.”

Spot skips the pleasantries, gesturing to the cigarette that Race was currently working to light.  His head is buzzing minutely, nothing to be entirely concerned about, but the alcohol didn’t fail to make its presence in his system known.  He’d lasted a few days sober in his home before he gave into the seedy bar’s beckon call and strolled out the front door, looking for an escape.  

Spot couldn’t necessarily say he’s surprised to see Race back- he seems the type to frequent the place- but his presumptuous aura is absent as he startles, wide, red-rimmed eyes fixating on Spot’s.

Spot’s eyebrows furrow, but Race looks away before he can speak. 

“Fuck off, I don’t need shitty life advice right now,” He grumbles, pocketing his lighter and inhaling a tangy lungful of smoke.

Spot raises his hands in mock surrender, “No life advice, got it.  You okay?”

Race scoffs, gaze still cast to the side.  Spot can see the misty lamplight twinkling in his eyes, but the playful light that had been there last time is nowhere to be seen.  It’s disconcerting.

“You wanna talk about it?” Spot asks casually, moving to lean against the damp, brick wall next to Race, “Believe it or not, I listen pretty well.”

Race doesn’t look at him as he takes a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a long, thin line, “I don’t even know you.”

“You know my name,” Spot smirks, “that was enough for you the other day.”

Race doesn’t seem to have an answer to that.  He takes another drag, then holds his cigarette up to the light, studying it with a resentful eye. 

“I don’t like smoking,” He concedes, “It’s just the only thing that can ever-“

“-Keep you sane?” Spot guesses, knowing all too well what he meant. 

Race spares a glance at him, “Yeah.”

Spot skips letting him know that he gets it.  Hell knows Race probably doesn’t want to hear it.

Instead he asks, “Does anything else keep you sane?”

Race scoffs again. He seems to do that a lot.  Like the world is sad and laughable.  It kind of is. 

“Uh,” Race scrunches up his nose, dropping his arm to his side, cigarette still secure between his nimble fingers, but momentarily forgotten, “Writing.” 

Spot carefully avoids letting his surprise slip, “What kind of writing?”

Race shrugs, fingers going loose.  Spot eyes flick to the falling cigarette.  Something sort of like pride wells in his chest.  The hardest part is already done.  Letting go.  

Not that quitting is going to be easy in any respect from here on out, but that initial admission to the notion is key.  And it looks like Race has given in. 

“Anything.  Stories, memoirs, thoughts,” He trails off for a moment, thinking, “just not poetry.  I suck at poetry.”

“Poetry is overrated, anyway.”

A moment of silence.  Race carefully stomps on the butt of the cigarette, “I guess.”

June

“I haven’t smoked for two weeks.”

Spot looks up from his bottle, something he could almost mistake for fondness swelling in his chest.  Race slides onto the stool next to him, waving over the bartender and gesturing for a beer.  The bartender hands it to him and sidles away.

Spot allows his gaze to scan over his new friend, noting that while he looks exhausted, there’s a healthier quality about him.  The bags under his eyes have let up a bit and the sallow, stretched skin of his cheeks have become fuller- redder.  He catches sight of the notebook that’s cradled protectively in Race’s grasp, but doesn’t say anything.  If Race wants to show him, he will.  

“I’m proud of you,” Spot says genuinely, taking a sip of his beer and facing forward again.

The now expected silence settles over them again.  

“And I’ve been writing more again,” Race admits, sheepishly holding up the notebook.  He delicately opens it, flipping through the pages slowly until he lands on one that has been bookmarked by an old movie ticket.

“I don’t usually let anyone see it, but…” He turns it towards Spot and thrusts it into his grasp, “If you want, uh, you can look.”

Realizing the underlying establishment of trust that accompanies the gesture, Spot takes the notebook, being careful to keep his expression judgement free.  He reads the passage- a short, choppy piece that doesn’t entirely make sense to him.  It’s a memory, that much is clear, but key details are missing.  It’s more of an imagery work, bringing Spot to an old park somewhere in Race’s childhood.  He isn’t sure exactly what importance or deep-felt symbolism the park may hold, but it’s obvious that it’s special to Race.  And if it’s been keeping Race from smoking, well, that’s a win then. 

“That was brilliant, Race,” Spot says genuinely as he carefully closes the notebook and hands it back, “Has it helped?”

Race looks at the notebook, a small, half-smile on his face, “So far.”

XXX

“Wanna take a walk?”

This time, Spot isn’t surprised to see Race standing expectantly next to him.  The notebook is back in his grip, but it seems to be more of a comforting presence than anything else.  Race is fiddling with the movie ticket bookmark that peeks out the top, running his thumb over the worn, leather bounding.

“Sure,” Spot answers before he can give too much thought to the notion.

Race’s face breaks into a wide grin and Spot finds himself mirroring it.

“Awesome, c’mon,” Race says, taking the glass out of Spot’s grip and replacing it with his hand.  

He pulls Spot out of the bar and doesn’t let go as he leads him down the street.  It’s decently late and as they venture further away from town and closer to the surrounding neighborhoods, the company of people surrounding them ceases.  They take a sudden turn into a little cul-de-sac and Race slows their pace as they cross to the other side of the street.  In front of them sits a small playground.  It looks old.  Everything is made of wood or metal and Spot can see pieces of paint chipping off the sets.

“Oh,” Spot murmurs, mind venturing to the passage Race had shown him the other day.

“Yeah,” Race says, leading Spot to the swingset and nodding for him to perch on one of the swings.  They sit, rocking back and forth in companionable quiet, “Why did you decide to quit?” Race asks after a moment.

Spot thinks for a moment, tilting his head to look at Race.  Race is watching him intently.

“I was tired of not being in control,” Spot says, honestly, “I had lost my mom and my dad was being shitty and so I started smoking to help ease off the edge, but after a while it just made me feel more out of control.  So, I quit.”

Race hums, eyes shifting to his own hand clasped around the chain of the swing, “Was it easy?”

Spot watches him fidget with the chain for a moment, “Is it easy?” 

Race looks back at him, “No.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

“But it can be done?”

Spot smirks, “I quit, didn’t I?”

Race nods and Spot allows himself to smile, “Then there’s your answer.”

XXX

“I like you, Spot.”

Spot blinks, turning his head to look at Race.  They’re back at the park, this time in the early morning.  He wasn’t sure when they’d gotten so close, but sometime between the last park visit and now, phone numbers had been exchanged and bonds tied tighter.  What they seemed to have was nice.  Never had Spot felt so real and raw with a person before, but in the span of a few weeks, Race had wormed himself into his life.  They didn’t talk very often about themselves, but the understanding of each other they seemed to have meant they didn’t have to.  They just got it.

“I like you, too, Race,” Spot says, bemused.

“No, like, I like you,” Race holds eye contact and Spot feels his stomach flip.  Race’s bluntness has always impressed Spot and he doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to it.

“Oh,” Is all he can think to say.  It isn’t that he doesn’t like Race back, it’s just that he hasn’t given his feelings much thought.  He’s mostly just run with what feels good in the moment. 

“I think I want to kiss you,” Race continues, gaze never wavering.

Spot feels his heart leap to his throat and he swallows, “Okay,” he manages.

Race raises an eyebrow, “Okay okay? Or just...okay.”

Spot nods, “Okay okay.”

Race smiles and stands from his swing, closing the short distance between them until he’s directly in front of him.  He grips one of the chain handles and rests his other hand on the side of Spot’s face.  Spot stares at him, memorizing the movements.  His own hand finds the taller boy’s hip.

Nothing happens for a moment, then Race leans down, capturing his mouth in a tentative kiss.  Spot hums a little and it’s all Race needs to deepen the kiss.  They move in tandem, feeling out each other’s presence for what could be an eternity.  Then, Race pulls back.

Their foreheads stay pressed together and Spot smiles.

“Thank you,” Race breathes.

“For what?” Spot whispers back.

Race shrugs, “For being here.”

“Thank you, too.”

July

“Why do you like the park so much?” Spot asks one day as they walk away from the bar.  He’s always wondered, but asking seemed too personal.  But now that whatever they have has been solidified, it seems appropriate.

Race doesn’t answer immediately.  Spot didn’t expect him to.

“Went there a lot as a kid,” Race says, “always had been an escape.  Still is.”

Spot nods, “Neat.”

Race laughs, squeezing their conjoined hands, “Neat?  What are you, 50?”

“Maybe,” Spot teases, eyes crinkling as he looks up at Race, “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Ewww,” Race whines, scrunching up his nose, “I do not want to think about kissing on an old man.”

“You brought it on yourself, pal,” Spot says, shaking his head.

“I know, but you- ugh, nevermind.”

They take their usual seats on the swings, hands still clasped together between them.  Spot smiles.  He’s happy.

XXX

The first setback happens a month after Race initially pledges to quit.  Spot had been expecting this.  Granted, lasting out a month without a cig was incredibly impressive, but it still wasn’t a surprise when Spot’s phone rang on a Tuesday afternoon.

He furrows his eyebrows, staring for a moment at Race’s contact photo before sliding his thumb across the screen and lifting his phone to his ear.

“Race?”  He sits up when he hears a jagged cough on the other end, “Hello?”

“Spot,” Race rasps.  He isn’t crying, at least, Spot can’t hear it in his voice, but he sounds miserable, “I fucked up.”

Spot purses his lips.  He knows what he’s talking about- it’s obvious enough- but he wants Race to say it.  Needs to have him talk it out.

“What happened?” He asks, already tucking his phone between his ear and shoulder and pulling on his shoes.  

“I smoked,” Race says.  His tone is dull, plain.  He sounds utterly defeated.

“Did something happen?  Or was it just urges, or-”

“My uncle hit me.”

“Goddamnit,”Spot paused in tying his shoes, taking a moment to draw in a measured breath.  Race didn’t talk much about his home-life, but Spot knew the basics.  He knew that his parents had passed in a car crash and Race had been sent to live with his aunt and uncle.  He knew that things had been good at first, but quickly physical abuse had reared its ugly head and Race was subject to things that no kid should know.  He didn’t know much, but he knew enough to make his blood boil.

“Sorry,” Race’s voice was still lifeless and Spot almost wished that he were crying.  This was just plain scary.

“I’m not mad,” Spot quickly reassures him, “I’m actually proud that you got this far without a smoke.  I’m coming, hang tight.”

“I’m at the park,” Race says, “In case you didn’t figure that already.”

Spot had figured, but he bites his tongue, “thanks, don’t go anywhere.”

He spots Race immediately, sitting on top of the monkey bars instead of the swings.  His head is turned outward, glazed eyes staring at the treetops.  There’s a nasty bruise forming on his left cheekbone, still red and glaring.  Spot’s shoulders sag.  

“Hey,” He calls carefully, not wanting to startle Race into falling.  Something tells him that wouldn’t be especially appreciated right now.

Surprisingly, Race turns towards him.  Spot had speculated that it would take a little coaxing to pull him out of his mind.

“Hey,” Race calls back.  His voice is scratchy and Spot vaguely wonders how many cigarettes he’s had.  Though, looking closer, there’s no sign of a pack or any stubs on the ground.

“I threw them in the forest,” Race mumbles, gesturing aimlessly, “S’why you can’t see any.  I didn’t wanna see any.”

Spot raises his eyebrows.  He’s got a million questions, a million concerns, but he elects to simply say, “I’m proud of you for throwing them.  How many did you have?”

“Only two,” Race watches him as he climbs up next to him, settling down on one of the bars, “only two…”

“That’s...not as bad as I thought,” Spot admits, “good job.”

Race scoffs, “Don’t praise me for messing up.”

“I’m not,” Spot says firmly, tapping his chin to get him to look at him “I’m praising you for realizing that it was a mistake and actively preventing yourself from having another.  I couldn’t even do that when I was tryna quit.”

“Oh,” Race looks down at his hands and Spot reaches out to grab one, “Okay.”

“Lemme see,” Spot says gently, lifting a careful hand as Race turns his head to the side, allowing for a full view of the abrasion.  Spot gingerly runs a finger over it, immediately stopping when Race winces, “Hurts still?”

Race nods, “He got me good.”

“Wanna talk about what happened?” It was probably a ‘no’, but Spot always offered, anyway.  Just to let Race know that he could.

“No,” Race mumbles.

“Alright,” Yep, as predicted, “Let’s get you some ice.”

He climbs down, waiting close by to help Race if he needs it.  A moment later, they’re walking towards town, hands linked together in Spot’s jacket pocket.

August

“Hey, happy birthday,” Spot greets Race with a smile, handing him a small parcel.  Race looks up at him from where he’s sitting at the swing and Spot is instantly reminded of their first kiss.  His smile grows.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Race says, biting his lip to hold back a smile of his own.

“Yeah, I did,” Spot rolls his eyes, stepping forward so that Race’s knees were resting against his shins, “Open it.”

Race blushes a little, bowing his head as he unwraps the gift.  Spot watches as his fingers slip underneath the tape, carefully unsticking each fold.  It always baffled Spot how meticulous Race is.  He emanates such boisterous chaos that Spot would have never pegged him for the gentle type.  But with Race, the surprises never really stopped.

“Fuck,” Race breathes, jaw going slack as he takes the new notebook out of the paper.  It’s a little bigger than the one he has at home and in much better shape.  He holds it to his nose, closing his eyes as he notes that the leather smells real, “this is beautiful, Spot.”

Spot’s grin turns into something a little more gentle, “I knew you were running out of pages in your other one, so I thought…” Spot takes Race in as he opens the notebook, running the pads of his fingers over the crisp, yellow pages, “Oh and here,” Spot digs into his pocket and pulls out a small pack of .5 mm pens, “these might be a little more fun to write with than a mechanical pencil.”

Race takes the pack and glances up at Spot before cracking open the lid.  He takes one out and uncaps it with his teeth, focusing intently on his paper as he writes out a short message.  His handwriting is surprisingly good and looks even better in the fine, black ink.  He tears out the paper and hands it to Spot.

Spot eyes him amusedly before reading the message,

Much love for you...thank you

Spot smiles, as Race pulls him down by the front of his shirt, “I love you, too,” he mumbles, already closing his eyes.  Their lips fit together like puzzle pieces.

XXX

Spot looks around at the boxes in his room, taking a deep breath as he goes over a mental checklist of anything he might have missed.  

“You all packed?” Race asks, wrapping his arms around Spot’s waist from behind.  He tucks his chin on Spot’s shoulder, pressing a light kiss to his pulse point.

“I’m 99 percent sure,” Spot says, turning to wrap his own arms around Race.

“Good,” Race leans down, pecking a kiss to the tip of his nose, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“S’just college Racer,” Spot says, kissing his chin, “We’ll both be back for Fall and Winter break and shit.”

Race scrunches his nose, an impressive pout forming on his face, “But that’s so long, Spottie,” he whines.

Spot chuckles, “I know, I’m sad, too.”

“One day,” Race’s pout melts away, a smirk spreading across his lips instead, “I’m gonna marry you and college or anything can suck my dick.”

Spot laughs loudly, head tilting back, “You do that.”

Race pulls him back in, capturing him once more in a kiss, “Oh, I will.”

6 Years Later

“Racer, I got the garlic!” 

Spot pushes the door to their apartment closed with his foot, holding the grocery bags above his head as their dog, Linda, bounds up to him.

“Hey, hey, no, Linda- down, babygirl! This food isn’t for you,” He transfers the bags to one hand and shoves Linda off with the other.

“Thank god,” Race pokes his head out of the kitchen, “I was worried that this chicken would have to go herbless and our taste buds would suffer tragically.”

Spot shakes his head, plucking the garlic pod out of the bag and tossing it to his husband, “Drama queen.”

He puts the groceries away, then joins Race at the stove.

“This all smells really good,” Spot says, dipping a finger in whatever pasta sauce Race is making.

“Hey, get your fucking fingers out of my sauce,” Race chides, hitting Spot lightly with a wooden spoon and getting pasta water on the sleeve of his henley.

“Asshole,” Spot bites, but there’s no real malice behind it.

“Mmm, you love me,” Race says, turning back to one of the pots.

Spot gently grabs his elbow, turning him and leaning up to kiss him, “Indeed I do.”

-

hehe

thanks for reading, chiefs

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[your-high-lady]

Realisation

-that-Summary: This story is about Feyre. She has a couple of small dreams she wants to achieve but turns out it isn’t as easy as she imagined it would. Trust me, the story is better than the summary. Modern AU. Feysand.

Chapter 1  Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Chapter 8  Chapter 9   Chapter 10   Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14

Disclaimer: All credit goes to Sarah J Mass. My story wouldn't exist if she hadn't written ACOTAR. I can't thank her enough for writing all she did.

Chapter 16: Sweet Times

The next four months were pure bliss.

It didn't take long for word to reach our friends that Rhys and I were officially together. They were completely fine with it, ecstatic even. And strangely, unsurprised too. And though that, in turn, surprised me, what rendered me even more speechless was how content I felt. It felt like a burden of my shoulders. Everyone knew they accepted, and that meant neither of us had to hold back. We kissed, we talked, we held hands. Rhys and I did everything a couple did, and I just felt so…fortunate. Each time Rhys kissed me or said something sweet to me, I couldn't help but feel silly for wanting to keep this secret. It was out now and I couldn't have been happier.

We spent the last of our summer going to trampoline parks, escape rooms, camping as a group once and having sleepovers with just us, girls. It was incredible. I smiled, laughed, had fun, made memories and being with Rhys and his friends just made it that much better.

Halfway through August, I decided to join the gym. I wanted to build my strength; I wanted to be able to defend myself. All of the Inner Circle worked out a lot so they were able to help me, particularly Cassian, with the routines, weightlifting, and just for the company and motivation to actually get to the gym. It only took a couple of weeks for me to realise how much work exercising regularly required and just how painful it could get, especially with Cassian as your instructor. Those first few weeks, I couldn't walk up and down the stairs without being scared that my legs would buckle under me, sending me flying down the stairs.

—

It was the first week of September. School had been over for about a week now and I was here at the airport waiting for my sisters. They were on school holidays and were going to be staying over at Mor's and my house for a couple of weeks.

Five minutes later, I spotted them coming through the revolving doors, and waved to them shouting, "Nesta! Elain! Here!" They turned, smiling widely and I ran up to them, giving each a huge hug. "Nesta, Elain! I've missed you so much. Oh god. There's so much to show you and tell you about. Are you guys hungry? I bet you've never had Tim Hortons. We'll have some of that before going home. Oh, I'm so excited!" I quickly dragged them to my car feeling strangely tearful but also jumpy and energetic. I guess I'd just missed them more than I'd thought and was really excited to see them after so long.

We did end up going to Time Hortons before driving home. It was three in the afternoon now, and Mor was doing a shift at her job and usually went to the gym afterwards so we had some time before she came home.

I got my sisters settled in and then started making dinner. Though I tried to stop them, they ended up helping. While cooking, we told each other about what we'd been doing in the past months since we'd last seen each other.

It had been January then. Now it was September. Nine months. So much time had passed. So much had happened. So much to tell and still, I talked the least. I didn't tell my sisters anything about Rhys. I didn't hide my friendship with the Inner Circle but I couldn't help but feel a little shy telling them about Rhys and I. Still, I promised myself I would tell them before they left. Just…not now.

They told me about how college was going for them. They told me about friends they made, their favourite teachers, subjects and a whole lot more. Hours passed as we cooked and talked. Around seven, Mor came in, and I introduced my sisters and her to each other before all four of us settled in for dinner. We'd gone all out and made roast pork, stir fry and chocolate mousse for dessert. Mor brought in some wine and by her third drink, she was babbling away. Nesta drank just as much as Mor while Elain and I kept the number of glasses low. After dinner, Mor suggested a movie, so once everyone was ready for bed and I'd done the dishes, we wrapped ourselves in multiple layers of blankets, snuggled in, and spent the rest of the night finishing the movie.

The next few days, we spent going to shopping malls, museums and parks. On Wednesday, the Inner Circle joined us. We were meeting at Mor's workplace at around 9. She would be taking half the day off. My sisters and I strolled in at 8:50 to find the boys and Amren already seated in the back corner. Mor ran up to us and told us to wait with them for ten minutes while she gathered her things. I led Nesta and Elain to the table where my friends were sitting. There I gave each of them a hug, making sure to not make it too obvious with Rhys, and introduced my sisters.

And that's when it got awkward.

I'd just said Amren's name when I noticed Cassian and Nesta blatantly staring at each other. Nesta had a hard, guarded expression while Cassian had one of awe and wonder. And beside them, Elain and Azriel looked like they were striping each other with their eyes. I was stunned. I had not expected that at all. The rest of the day, we spent making our way through different stores in the city, and the two pairs did not make it comfortable for the rest of us. By the time we got back home, I was exhausted of feeling the denial radiating of Nesta at getting close to Cassian in any way, and Elain's shyness off doing anything at all other than ogling each other Azriel.

Cassian would've died a thousand times over if looks could kill. He got one each time he made a vulgar joke or even looked in Nesta's direction. I don't know why she was acting like that. His expression was one of lust and I knew she wasn't someone to make quick friends with anyone, but this amount of animosity was strange even from her. It was the same with Elain. She was shy, but not that shy! Poor Azriel clearly liked her but their quiet nature, which they both had, got in the way of any development that could've happened. The next week was much the same. We didn't see them every day but the days we did see them were the most annoying and exhausting. But it wasn't just them that made it exhausting, though. It was Rhys too. I'd told Rhys about what I was feeling and he had been a little surprised but didn't push me to tell them or anything. The others didn't question it either. But I kept thinking about it. Each time we met, I couldn't kiss him like usual, couldn't give him more than a friendly smile or hug or laugh.

But all those barriers were only there because I hadn't told my sisters about Rhys. It was so simple. All I had to do was speak a few words. And yet I felt like my life depended on those few words. I was scared of their reaction. And that thought triggered another memory. I'd been scared of how Cassian, Azriel, Mor and Amren would react. And then I'd told them, and they'd been happy for me. They'd accepted it. They…they hadn't changed the way they looked at me.

So why would my sisters react any differently? I couldn't think of any reason other than it had been so long since I'd seen them. My friends had seen Rhys and I before we told them. They'd seen how we were around each other. My sisters hadn't.

And yet, I knew that wasn't good enough. The only thing holding me back was myself. I had to change that. And so I told them.

A day before they left, we were alone in the living room. Mor had gone over to Amren's house for a few nights, wanting to give my sisters and I some alone-time at home before they left. I was cleaning around the house, while Elain and Nesta packed their bags. They were flying back home tomorrow. I was folding all the dry clothes that had just been washed on the couch when Elain came and booed me from behind. I flinched and when I got over my shock, started beating Elain up, half-heartedly. We both started laughing, and Elain called for Nesta to come out here. She came smiling, unusual for her, and Elain got me to sit on the couch, my laugh changing into a nervous chuckle. "What's wrong?" I asked as they sat on either side of me.

"Oh don't worry. Nothing serious. We just wanted to tell you what's on our mind. All good things, I promise." Nesta said. I calmed down a little.

After a few moments, Nesta began. "So. The Inner Circle. You seem all seem very close."

I frowned, "I guess so. They've become very good friends of mine." I shrugged as if there was nothing wrong with that.

"But are they all your friends?" Elain said, a slightly smug expression on her face.

I was so confused at the question. "What! What do you mean?"

Nesta went straight for the kill. "Rhys. We've seen the way you look at him. Friends don't look at each other like that." I was stunned. I didn't think they had noticed. But they had. And they weren't…screaming about it. They didn't even seem angry.

But why would they? All that fear, it was all in my head, I knew. I sighed, deciding to just tell them. I told them everything from that first handshake in Business, to Disneyland to the kiss on the last night to the time I'd asked for clarification in the library and everything that followed afterwards. I told them how happy the Inner Circle made me. How happy Rhys made me. I told them, I think I loved him.

By the end of my story, their eyes were teary but they had giant smiles on their faces. Elain jumped and hugged me, "Oh Feyre! I'm so happy for you!"

As Elain unwrapped herself from around me, Nesta thoughtfully said, "You had seemed so quiet and sad in the last month before you left. We still don't know why, but we'll respect your choice to keep that information private. Just know that we're happy for you. We want what's best for you, and after spending so much time with all of the Inner Circle, we know they'll be good for you. Be happy Feyre." I hugged them. Everything was so perfect. I was happy and smiling, letting go of my demons from Auckland. It was perfect.

—

The next day, Mor drove us out to a Paintball centre in Santa Clara. We were a few minutes late so the others were already there. Rhys didn't know off my conversation with Nesta and Elain last night, so he kept his distance. We made teams: Nesta, Elain, Azriel, Cassian and Rhys, Amren, Feyre, Mor. The instructor told us all the rules and safety precautions, and soon we were playing. Three minutes in and Elain got shot. She laughed it off when Azriel showed a suspicious amount of concern. Another 4-5 minutes passed and then I got out. I joined Elain on the viewing deck, Rhys giving me a quick peck on the cheek on my way out. I smiled at his back and when I reached Elain, she gave me a grin telling me she'd seen. I looked away still feeling a little shy, but when I felt a hug from behind, I smiled as well.

Azriel got out next and then Amren, leaving Cassian, Rhys, Mor and Nesta to carry the game on. It got competitive. It was two against two and no one was ready to accept defeat. Us guys on the deck cheered our team members on, warning them when they couldn't see an attacker or making them aware of a possible shot.

Still, no one got shot for at least ten minutes, though several balls were fired. Eventually, Cassian got in a shot at Mor from behind while Nesta distracted her. But the joke was on them. While Cassian was distracted shooting Amren, Rhys was able to get a shot at Nesta. That left Rhys and Cassian alone. Before he could react, Rhys shot Cassian as well, ending the game with our win. My team and I cheered and teased the others as we went to our assigned area in the small cafe. I thought about the teamwork I'd seen between Cassian and Nesta especially after the friction between the two over the past couple weeks. It was interesting. But something about the way they had started looking at each other in the last couple of days told me that things would be changing soon between them. And as for Elain, based on the way Elain was laughing now at something Azriel had said, they'd already gotten over their shyness and had become very close. I smiled to myself. Each of us had found someone. Father would be so happy.

—

In the cafe, we all ordered some snacks and drinks for ourselves and settled in for lunch. Our food had just arrived when I noticed an exchange of nods between Elain and Nesta, and Nesta got up and quietly asked Rhys if she could talk to him in private. I narrowed my eyes at her tone, watching them walk away.

They came back a few minutes later, and Rhys's blank expression told me nothing of what their conversation might have entailed. I made a note to myself to ask him after I dropped my sisters off to the airport.

We finished our snacks and played another game. The other team won. By the time we left the paintball place, we only had enough time to pick up my sisters' bags before we had to head to the airport. I was slightly surprised when Rhys volunteered to drive us but didn't say anything. When it was time to let my sisters go, I gave each of them a tight hug that lasted a good 10-15 seconds each and a kiss on the cheek. It had been great meeting them after so long and I promised to visit them down in Dunedin. It was hard to let them go, and when they were gone, I had to blink tears away. Sometimes I missed them so much. I didn't regret coming to Stanford for college. Too much good had come from it. But despite all that, Auckland was my home. I would forever miss that place and everything that was tied to it.

—

That night, when we were driving home, I asked Rhys what Nesta had said to him at the paintball place. He hesitated before telling me.

Rhys's POV

"So, what did Nesta talk to you about, during lunch?" We were driving home from the airport, now. I had been slightly surprised when Nesta had asked but quickly agreed not wanting to get on the bad side of the hard-willed Archeron sister. I'd been further surprised when she said what she did.

"So. Feyre." Nesta said. I could still see our friends but knew they couldn't hear us.

"Yes?" I asked, playing stupid. Feyre hadn't told her sisters about us yet, and though I disagreed, I didn't push her on it. But something about Nesta's tone told me she knew somehow.

"We talked yesterday. Us, sisters."

I raised my eyebrows. "Did you, now?"

She narrowed her eyebrows. "We know you're together, you and Feyre." I kept my face expressionless. Nesta continued. "The month before she left for Stanford, she'd been unusually quiet and secluded. She didn't take her exams with everyone else in class, and instead after school finished when everyone was already gone. She never once talked about her boyfriend after a date night they had together to celebrate their anniversary. We still don't know what happened, but we know it had something to do with him. We also know that Mor knows what happened, but Elain and I never pressurised Feyre or Mor to tell us. In December she left New Zealand, and now nine months later, we see her in person for the first time. She's happy, you know? Smiling. She has friends among this group of yours and she's talking to them, hanging out with them. You, too. She's pursuing her dreams. My sister and I can see that. She's so different from the way we'd seen her last. This past couple of weeks, we've watched her be friends with you and the rest of the Circle, and we understood what had happened between you two. Feyre confirmed it for us yesterday." She paused. "We know you're together. And I've called you here to tell you—" She moved a step closer to me, a menacing expression appearing on her face—"if you break her heart or hurt her in any way, I will hurt you in the same way, ten times worse." It was then I understood what this conversation was. Nesta was playing the big-brother role of making sure her little sister was safe. I was glad Feyre had someone like that in her life. Even better that it was Nesta Archeron of all people.

I looked straight into Nesta's eyes and said, "I love Feyre. I will never hurt her or let anyone else hurt her. If someone does, they'll face my wrath." A satisfied expression crossed the Archeron sister's face and she nodded.

Blinking, I came back to reality and turned to look at Feyre. I could tell she genuinely had no idea what my conversation with Nesta had been about.

So I told her, excluding the killing part and how I loved her and stuff. I didn't think she was ready for that. After I'd given a summary of my talk with her sister, her shoulders slumped and she went quiet. I didn't question her reaction and when it was time for her to get out of the car, gave her a peck on the lips.

AN: Did you like it? I hope you did. Tell me what your most favourite part was. If you want. See ya next time.

@everything-that-i-love