#i still am not comfortable working without reference anymore for shading

[kifu]

Morning sunbath.

[katescribblesabit]

I absolutely adore your art style! Do you have any tips? Specifically for the fairies cause I am struggling to draw them.

thank you so much! well, this is gonna be a long post.

Im gonna be real, the best art advise anyone can give you is to use references and to break complicated stuff down into easier shapes. for example:

this is my basic body skeleton! i always start with the circle of the head and work my way down to the feet. i have highlighted some part of the body which are actually just simple shapes.

the center line down the middle of the torso also helps me draw on collars, bra cups, ties, or any other more difficult clothing more accurate!

However i have to ask you, are you comfortable while you draw?

I remember when I first started drawing digital, i was really uncomfortable with the basic set up of my program. The white canvas and the light setting of the program was really bright and irritated my eyes. And the contrast of the pure black I used for drawing wasn't really helping. sketching and doing line art was my least favorite part of drawing because of this.

you don't have to draw on a white canvas, you can also use multiple colours for sketching if you wanted. Once I stoppend using a pure white canvas I noticed i stopped staring at a empty canvas not knowing what i wanted to draw anymore!

also sometimes when a drawing doesn't want to look right, i switch back to traditional. idk why but when my brain sometimes struggles with a specific pose or character design, it comes to me a lot more easier when I switch back onto paper. i guess the change of scenery opens up the creativity again haha.

don't be afraid to simplify stuff, you don't have to draw everything! As long as it still translates to the thing, it should be fine.

these two are a bit clip studio exclusive,

but Gradient maps! god how I love my gradient maps, it just makes the colours pop! I never draw without it anymore. I always pick the sunset gradient, put it in Linear light mode and put it on 10% (cus its really saturated on 100%)

usually i have it on while i sketch and line, and turn it off so i can properly colour and shade. i turn it back on at the end again

the clip studio assets has a lot of beautiful stuff in there created from other users. (a good amount for free too) for example I got the lace pattern of my shawl from there. and its really easy to import the downloaded stuff into the program.

now this is a drawing hack that blew my mind when I first saw it! i use it all the time and I just have to share this!

whenever you want to draw something random like sparkles, stars, bubbles, feathers, falling leaves, or anything that you want to float around your characters, position them in the form of a triangle.

its even better if you put two points of the triangle closer together and then the third further away. this makes it look random but still looking appealing to the eye, and not oddly placed.

now that thats out of the way! Fairies! The one thing i struggled with when drawing them first is their hair. I suggest looking through the fop tag to see how other people have drawn them and take inspiration from your favorites and make up your own. (do not trace tho! that should be obvious!)

when I draw hair I think of it separated in two parts, the front and the back. I usually start with the front hair pieces, then draw in the jaw, ears and rest of the head, then continue with the back section of the hair.

the only outliers of this are Timmy and Peri. when I draw Timmy (Ymmit as well) I start with his hat, before drawing his hair. Since I draw Peris hair-swirl over his hairline, i start drawing his upper back hair style first before drawing his head and then his mullet.

wings can also be tricky. the fairy wings i have given then have a more butterfly look. if you also want to base off the wings to real life animals or bugs you can use them flying as references to. Or you could even cut out the wing shape out of paper, fold it in the middle and take pictures in the angle you desire.

I hope this somehow helped, I thought about what could have helped me if I had known it sooner. even if most of these were for generic drawing.

[estrel]

Saving Grace (And Staying Put)

destiel december 2020 prompt: presents | wc: ~1.3k

russian translation available thanks to @hereigoagain !!

[READ ON AO3] [RUSSIAN]

"What'd you think?"

Dean's staring at Cas, a glass full of eggnog resting against his lips. Behind the rim of it he’s hiding a smile at Cas' thoughtful squint, as Cas watches the end credits roll on the television.

"I think...I still don't understand. Are you meant to be my George Bailey?"

Dean splutters into his drink at that, sitting up to wipe eggnog from his mouth and set the cup on the coffee table. He shoots Cas a look, but Cas is still frowning, head tilted in question and maybe a little bit of concern at Dean's reaction.

After watching a myriad of Christmas movies that included Gremlins (a classic), Home Alone (another classic) and Krampus (Jack was not a fan), Sam and Jack had disappeared off to bed and Dean had stuck It's A Wonderful Life into the DVD player. His hope had been that Cas would get his Clarence references after watching it, but instead Cas was comparing Dean to the suicidal businessman that the angel saves in the movie.

What had made Dean choke was that he wasn't exactly wrong.

"I—I guess I am, man, yeah. I mean, I'd like to think I'm a little less pathetic, and I'm probably not as nice as he is, but it's...you're not too far off."

Their eyes meet, and Dean reaches between them for the remote.

"But I'm," Cas says, in a tone that makes Dean pause. "I'm not an angel anymore."

Dean sits back on the couch again, shifting once to get comfortable. "So?"

"So..."

He waits for Cas to continue, rubbing a thumb over the buttons on the remote as the silence stretches. The credits on the TV come to a stop. 

"So, I'm not...’Clarence’ anymore."

"And...what? Is that supposed to faze me, or something?" Dean looks at him again, and Cas' face expresses his apparent uncertainty. 

Dean smooths out his frown, opting instead to get across some of his own sincerity by dropping the deflections for a second.

"Cursed or not, Cas," he says gently, "Angel or not. Doesn't matter, we're...I—I'm better with you. So none of that leeriness, okay? Because you're more than just a set of fluffy wings and a halo."

He thinks Cas might take a crack at him again, indulge him that angels don’t have halos or harps or whatever Dean had said, but he doesn’t. He watches Dean for a long moment, all the while Dean pointedly tries not to notice, flipping channels for something else to watch. The Grinch might be good. 

“I have something for you.”

Cas reaches into a pocket, keeping his hand there while he thinks of how to proceed.

“I know it’s Christmas Eve, and that’s not typically when gifts are given... I also know that there’s probably a whole ritual that has rules and I’m sure you’re very picky about them, but I still...I don’t know if this will count as a present. But I still want to give it to you, if you’ll accept it,” Cas says. 

Dean feels his heart racing, thrumming against his chest so fast it makes him lightheaded. He simply nods, not trusting himself to speak, and watches as Cas pulls out the chain of a necklace until it reveals a small glowing vial that hangs off of it. 

On instinct, Dean reaches out to touch it, hovering his fingers just over the glass. He lifts his gaze to look at Cas. 

“Cas...what is this?”

The essence inside the vial swirls, a bright blue almost the shade of Cas’ eyes. Dean’s entranced, watching as it rhythmically shifts and moves against the glass. 

“It’s me,” Cas replies. “Well, more accurately...it’s my Grace.” 

Dean freezes. 

“Come again?”

Cas sighs softly. “My Grace.”

“You—you saved it?” Dean means to ask ‘How?’ next, but his mouth says, “And you’re giving it to me?”

Cas nods. 

“Why?”

Cas lets his arm relax, lowering it so that the necklace rests between them on the seat cushion of the couch. “You...gave me my humanity, Dean. You showed me how to care about...about everyone. I know I can never repay you for that, but I thought...I thought the least I could do was give a part of myself in return. I—” he hesitates, biting his bottom lip in thought.

“What?”

“No, nothing. I just...hope that you’ll accept it.”

Cas lifts it again in offering, and Dean moves his hand to fit the vial against his palm. It's warm to the touch. Dean wraps his fingers around it, and Cas lets go of the chain. It falls limply against Dean's knuckles.

"Thank you, Cas," He says, bringing it close to his heart. Cas smiles.

"Actually, I uh...I have something for you, too," Dean adds. With his free hand, he digs into his jean pocket and pulls it out, suddenly feeling that it’s a little dumb in comparison to the gift Cas just gave him.

"It's, ah, not exactly angel Grace, but," he holds out the flat of his palm, showing Cas.

Cas takes it from Dean's hand, holding it as if it’s as precious as the necklace Dean is clutching onto for dear life. He levels Dean with a serious stare.

"Are these...?"

"Keys," Dean says, "One's for Baby, and the other's for the Bunker."

Cas is quiet, so Dean keeps going. "I figured, y'know, without your Grace, you'll be needing to get places and, well, keys...open doors." He mentally curses himself. Keys open doors? He squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head a little to reset himself. 

"What I mean to say is, now it'll be easier to get home. You can come and go when you'd like, and you don't have to wait for one of us to let you in."

Cas' eyebrows twitch at that. "Home," he repeats, but it’s said like a question.

Dean nods, smiling softly. “Yeah, Cas. Home.” He looks away, startled a little by Cas’ sincere eyes that search his face. “If—If you’ll accept it.”

“Yes,” Cas says quickly. “I accept.”

“Good,” Dean responds. He tries to ignore how the racing of his heart makes his hands shake. He looks down at the necklace. It swings a little, gently touching his chest.

“Um,” Dean holds it out to Cas. He waits a moment too long, though, because he can see Cas’ smile beginning to falter. “Do you think you could help me with this?”

Stunned, Cas takes the necklace and Dean bows his head, feeling his ears go red. It’s a sign of trust, Dean knows, to let your guard down like this in their line of work. It’s like baring your neck to a vampire, or falling asleep next to a djinn.

Cas moves closer on the couch, and their knees touch just barely. Dean watches Cas’ Grace dip underneath his chin as Cas pulls the chain around his neck. He can feel Cas’ arms raised on either side of him as he fastens it, can smell Cas’ scent from how close they are. 

Then Cas is done, fingertips brushing the back of Dean’s neck as he rests the cold chain there. His touch lingers, and Dean’s breath catches, and then Dean is lifting his head up. 

They’re closer than he thought. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. Cas gives a small nod, eyes a little wide. His hands are still at the back of Dean’s neck, fingers brushing gently at the hair on Dean’s nape. Dean shivers, unable to contain it. He brings a hand up to Cas’ tie, holding it a moment, before deciding it could use some adjustment. 

Then both hands are fixing the knot, and when Dean is done, he uses the tie as leverage to pull Cas closer. There’s a pause, when both of their noses bump against each other, where Dean gives Cas an out. 

He doesn’t take it.

Dean presses forward, fitting their lips together. It’s the satisfaction of two missing puzzle pieces finally sliding into place, after years of being lost and collecting dirt under a couch. It’s clean, and it’s warm, and it feels like Purgatory all over again—like purity.

When they pull away, Dean’s a little out of breath. He places a hand on Cas’ face, running a thumb over his cheek.

“Stay,” Dean says. “Don’t leave my side again. I want—I want you to stay.”

Cas’ eyes glisten. “I will,” he says. “I will.”

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[atiny-ahgase]

The Promise And A Stray Pup

Title: The Promise And A Stray Pup

Chapter 2: Promise You’ll Be Good

Author’s Note: Okay so I usually write the author’s notes before I even write the story idk why… I just do. Anyway, I had no idea how this is gonna turn out soo..yeah.

Summary: Y/n returns home in search of a hybrid friend that she had left oh so long ago. Will she be able to help him? Did their friendship withstand the hands of time or did it crumble from the pressure? 

This is chapter 2 of the Series “A Pinky Promise And A Stray Pup, you can read chapter 1 here.

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

Pairing: Hybrid Yunho x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Hybrid au, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Smut, Dom Reader, Sub Yunho, Edging, Controlled Orgasm, Masturbation

Contains: Hybrid Yunho, Gender Neutral Reader, Fluff, Smut

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

You paced through the narrow hallway of your one-bedroom apartment for what seemed like the millionth time. Releasing a loud groan you dove unto the soft cushions of your couch, burying your face in one of your many throw pillows. It had been exactly 2 days,14 hours, and 27 minutes since you had last seen Yunho...not that you were counting or anything. He seemed kinda off during your last interaction, his breathing seemed strained and his cheeks were a bright shade of pink, granted his face seemed to be tinted that light shade of pink quite often. His voice wasn’t the smooth sweet melody that you had already become so used to, it seemed deeper, almost huskier. Sure, he had just woken up but still, something felt off to you. Maybe you were overthinking it, over-analyzing the situation as you usually did but how could you not? He hadn’t contacted you for two whole days. Sure, he could be busy with work but when you visited his workplace they said that he hadn’t been in on that day. Then where was he? What could he possibly be doing?

What if he was sick? What if he had realized that you weren’t the same kindergartener that he had met so many years ago? What if he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore? What would you do then? Everything that you had done since the moment you and Yunho had parted ways was all done to meet him again. You studied extra hard to get a scholarship, you worked extra shifts to pay off apartment expenses, you settled on choosing this apartment because it was closer to your old school. Everything that you had done was all for him but...what if he didn’t want that? What if he was having second thoughts? Where would that leave you? What would you do when your entire reason for bettering yourself decided that you weren’t enough?

He said that he’d come to visit you again but it's been two days and still nothing, you were starting to worry. Sure you hadn’t seen him for twelve years prior but now even a day without him feels unbearable. You’d wondered how you had survived so long without having him by your side. Even your tiny apartment felt as though it had tripled in size since his absence, the walls seemed to have expanded overnight, feeling far too large for just you. Yunho seemed to fit so perfectly in your life so the fact that he wasn’t there next to you felt like such a foreign feeling even though he had only recently reentered it.

Your worrying carried on for the remainder of the week and before you knew it classes had begun. The first couple of days were pretty basic; mostly consisting of introductions and lesson plans. You had even somehow managed to befriend the bespeckled hybrid boy who sat next to you in your Math class. His hair was dyed a soft orange which highlighted the warmth of his smile, he wore an oversized hoodie and round-rimmed glasses. Even seated he towered over you, and to be quite honest you were originally incredibly intimidated by his large stature but that lasted a solid two minutes. His dog-like playfulness immediately shining through, casting away all of your prior fears. You had both managed to get pretty close before your class had started, him laughing at all of your jokes, his tail happily wagging behind you as he clutched his stomach, tears springing from his eyes.

He introduced himself as Mingi, a dog hybrid who only moved in a few months ago, apparently he wanted a fresh place to make a new start and opted for somewhere quiet. Surprisingly you both shared a lot of the same courses which was great for you because now you had a seat buddy. The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly and it was finally time for lunch, you and Mingi sat on the wooden benches across from the school library, taking in the way the yellow leaves danced in the wind as the breeze sang a gentle song. Your shoulders brushed each others’ as you listened to his stories about his hometown, your attention hanging on to every single word that he spoke. His way of telling stories captivated you, it was as though you were watching a movie, every scene that he set was so vivid, it was as though you were living through each moment. Before long your school day had ended and it was finally time to go home. Walking out from your final lecture for the day you looked up at the sky “, Looks like it’s about to rain,�� you hypothesized.

“Please don’t jinx it, the UNI’s Shuttle doesn’t drop me off at the front of my house and I really don’t wanna walk through the rain,” he explained with an exasperated sigh. Soon after his words were uttered a thunderous roar was heard from the sky and raindrops began falling unto the earth below. You could hear the displeased groans from your friend beside you which caused you to let out a small laugh. “Alright Mingi tell me where you live and I’ll think about giving you a ride”, you jokingly said while pulling him in the direction of your car. “You’re the best Y/n,” he said before engulfing you into a hug from behind. “Mingi you’re gonna crush me then I’lldie before I drive you home,” you exclaimed while trying to control your laughter. Were all dog hybrids this affectionate?

Mingi lived fairly close to the supermarket where Yunho worked which was great for you since you found yet another excuse to ‘drop in’ after you had dropped Mingi off. Unfortunately, Yunho wasn’t there yet again and quite honestly it was starting to get on your nerves. You released a loud sigh before heading to your car and driving home. It was only upon arriving home did you notice Mingi’s jacket seated comfortably on your back seat. You playfully rolled your eyes before retrieving it and bringing it into your apartment. Pulling out your phone you sent him a quick text informing him that you were holding his jacket for ransom and if he doesn’t buy you breakfast tomorrow then he’ll never see it again. You know just a basic text. After that was done you decided that your couch was as good a place as any for Mingi’s jacket to rest for the night.

Not long after getting comfortable, you heard someone knocking at your door. “Who could that be?” you thought. You didn’t know that many people from around here and even if you did they didn’t know where you lived. Getting up from your couch you walked over to the door pulling it open to reveal who was on the other side.

“And here I thought that you forgot where I lived,” you remarked as you looked up at the dog hybrid towering above you. Of course, it was Yunho, the only other person in town that knew where you lived was your landlady, and something was telling you that she had little to no reason to come knocking on your door at this hour. “I’m really sorry Y/n,” you heard him say softly, if it had been any quieter you would not have heard him at all. Looking at his face it seemed a lot paler than you remembered and he wore a tired expression as though he hadn’t slept for days.

“I wanted to come to see you sooner but I was really sick and I wanted to call but I didn’t have your number,” he began to explain in a voice that was even gentler than what you were used to. Even the yellow of his eyes seemed to dull significantly, how could you stay mad at someone in that state. To be honest, he could have shown up at your doorstep in peak condition and no excuse, and you’d probably still forgive him. For the longest time whether you were together or apart you had the softest spot for Yunho, even with the greatest determination once you looked into those golden eyes your heart would surely falter.

“You should probably come in, it’s getting pretty chilly these days,” you smiled up at him before further opening the door allowing him inside. Closing the door you sat on the couch and patted the spot beside you expectantly. Yunho taking that as his cue quickly filled in the empty space next to you engulfing your body in his warmth. You had quickly become used to having him next to you so much that his absence for those few days had you feeling incredibly cold. “I really am sorry Y/n, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he explained as he placed his head on your shoulder nuzzling into your neck.

Placing your hand at the nape of his neck you were about to comfort him about the situation; since he seemed to be beating himself up quite a bit. However, before you could otter a word you could feel his grip on you tightening slightly.

“Y/n” you heard him say no louder than a whisper, his voice deeper than you were used to, “Whose jacket is this?” Referring to the green jacket which was placed on the couch.

“Oh, that’s Mingi’s he forgot it in my car-,” you began but before you could finish you felt a sharp pain at your collar bone followed by the soothing sensation of his warm tongue gliding over your bruised skin. You could feel it caressing your skin so tenderly that goosebumps began to form all over your body. “Yunho,” you whimpered in his arms while struggling to escape his grasp.

“I don’t like it. Why are you spending time with other hybrids when you already have me?” he calmly stated, punctuating each word with gentle kisses running along your throat. “I’ve only just found you, I’m not letting another hybrid take you away from me. You’re mine and I’m yours” he continued on while tightening his grip on you even more. His body pressed firmly to yours as he continued to nip on the tender skin of your neck. 

The area began to burn with the most pleasant of pains, your body aching in the best way imaginable. But you knew that you couldn’t stay like that otherwise he would just continue to misunderstand you. “Yunho could you just listen-,” you tried to reason with him as best as you could even though you could hear your voice falter as his lips reached your collarbone. This was the second time he had done this and as pleasurable as it is also beginning to get tiring.

You kept on telling yourself that this was bad no matter how good he made you feel. You couldn’t deny that you could easily become addicted to the sensation of his body on yours; completely trapping you in its warmth. But you couldn’t just let him do as he pleased. It’s true that hybrids have a more difficult time controlling their emotions but this is not an excuse. He couldn’t just continue to act on impulse every time his emotions get too strong. It gets easier with time and a hybrid of Yunho’s age should already be adequately good at it.

But I guess that’s the difference between Yunho and other hybrids his age, they were probably trained better than Yunho. He lived his younger years on the street so there is a possibility that he still hasn’t perfected self-control. He was like a puppy in an adult dog’s body; succumbing to every urge that comes his way. Gathering your thoughts you took a deep breath before speaking. “Yunho sit,” you said in a stern voice, much more than you ever thought you could muster up. You felt his body become rigid against yours but he made no actions to remove himself from you. “Yunho sit!” you said with a little more force; your eyes piercing into his. You heard him whimper before he peeled himself away from you to have a seat. You had expected him to return to his previous spot beside you but he didn’t. Yunho opted to sit on his heels at the base of the couch; right where your feet had lain. His head hung low as his palms gently rested on his knees.

Seeing the sight before you left you struggling to remain seated, he looked so ductile, so obedient and something about it made you feel so hot. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes and you loved it, although you had been the one to stop his previous advances it was almost as though you were at the mercies of your instinct, you wanted nothing more than to completely devour him. You took a deep breath in the futile attempt to gather your thoughts before speaking to him, he’d probably let you.

“Yunho I let your behavior slide twice before, but at this point, I’m beginning to think that you want to be scolded by me,” you stated while coking your eyebrow up. “No I don’t I’m sorry,” you heard him mumble towards the floor. Placing your hand on his cheek you felt the way his body shivered at your touch. “Puppy shouldn’t you look at me when I’m talking to you,” you whispered your face only a few inches from his. You could clearly see his lips quivering as you took in the strained features of his face.

“You’re right I’m sorry,” he whimpered, his fists clenched against his jeans. “And exactly what is my puppy sorry for?” you inquired, your lip twisted up in a slight smirk. It amused you; someone so much smaller than him, could have so much power over him, just the thought had you shivering in your seat.

“I’m sorry for attacking you and for not coming to see you,” he stated, his pleading eyes drowning in your own. “And what was the reason that my dear puppy couldn’t come see his owner?” you continued on loving the pure look of ecstasy on his face when you referred to yourself as his owner. His knuckles tightened as his body began to tremble, clearly holding itself back from the pleasure that was clearly bubbling inside of him. “I was sick,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Oh were you now?” you edged on, your pointer finger gliding across his adam’s apple. “Please,” he whimpered before he began to hunch forward in an attempt to ease the pressure building up at his crotch. “You say that you’re sorry but apparently that doesn’t apply to all of you,” you confessed before gently placing your foot on his crutch. The sound that he released was probably the most beautiful you’ve ever heard; it almost made you want to end your teasing, almost.

Removing your foot from his crutch you stare in awe at the thin thread of clear liquid which connected your toes to the ever-growing bulge in his pants. “For someone who is soo sorry you seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit,” you stated as you wiggled your toes, almost playing in the precum coating them. From your seat above him, you could see him frantically shaking his head as he rocked in place on the floor beneath you. “Oh, so you’re not,” you inquired as you brought your face on the same level before you continued, “then maybe you should start answering me honestly? There is no need to be this stubborn with me”.

“I was in heat,” he replied; his head hung low as his ears began to redden. “So my puppy left me worried and alone cause you couldn’t keep it in his pants? Seeing the state that you’re in I can’t say that I’m surprised,” you replied, your eyes never once leaving his quivering body. Leaning back into your seat you took one final glance at him before speaking, “Take it off.” You could hear him release a sigh before reaching for his shirt. “No,” you interrupted him mid-action, “just your bottoms.” With crosswinds coming in so quickly Yunho was dressed in a caramel-colored knitted turtleneck and a pair of black jeans. You didn’t think that turtle necks could turn you on to this extent, just the thought of Yunho wearing turtle necks to hide the marks that you’ve left on his neck got a fire burning deep into your core.

You were so lost in your thoughts that the only thing pulling you away was the load, animalistic groan which escaped the hybrid’s lips as he slowly touched himself. His nimble fingers teasing the tip of his erect cock, urging it to release even more precum than it already was. The clear liquid flowed from the tip of his reddened cock down his hand, coating it in the perverse liquid. “I don’t remember telling you that you could touch yourself now did I puppy,” you stated watching as he briskly removed his hand from his aching cock; wincing as the cold breeze caressed it. “Do you want me to touch you?” you inquired. 

“I do,” he began; his breathing short and strained, “but I’ve been bad.” 

“That’s true but that doesn’t mean that my puppy doesn’t deserve to be cared for now does it?” you rhetorically asked.

Finally leaving your place on the couch you crept beside him, grasping his dick in your much smaller hand, your mouth watering at the sight.  Almost immediately you could feel Yunho bucking his hips upward, chasing his much-desired release with great intensity. Taking your free hand you gripped his hip harshly, your nails grazing along his side. Yunho moaned at the pain, his body shivering as his head dropped to rest on your shoulder. “Stay still for me okay baby,” you whispered, your breath tickling his ear. Continuing at a rather snow pace you ran your hand along Yunho’s engorged dick, tracing its veins with your fingers and watching as his entire body twitched in response. You could feel him leaving tentative kisses along your shoulder but you didn’t stop him this time, he was finally being good so he deserved a little treat. Right?

You tightened your grip as you continued to pleasure him, enjoying the sweet sounds of his moans in your ear; you could listen to it all day but that might actually break him and you couldn’t do that to your puppy. “Close, I’m close. Please can I come,” he begged into your shoulder as his hands caressed your sides ever so slightly; the searing heat radiating from his entire body paled in comparison the that of his pulsating dick. He looked as though he was ready to burst but resisting until you gave him the go-ahead trying with the utmost desperation to be good for you. Should you allow him to release or should you let that pressure build up inside of him just a little longer to see how long he could fight against his instinct? 

Your thought process was interrupted by your phone ringing on the couch cushion behind you, you weren’t all that interested to answer but you had an idea of who it might be so you decided to play with your puppy just a little longer. “Yunho could you grab my phone for me please,” you asked, your free hand caressing his back to get his attention. Looking at his face caused shivers to run through your spine; it was nothing like you’ve ever felt before, your body was screaming with pure ecstasy. His face was flushed pink and glistening with perspiration, his teary, yellow eyes were almost engulfed by his dilated pupils and only heavy breathing could be heard from his swollen lips. Yunho was always irresistible in your eyes but seeing him in this state; he looked absolutely delectable.

You had expected him to put up some sort of resistance but he didn’t, he simply stretched forward; groaning at the new angle in which you were holding his dick, and grabbed your phone. “Who’s calling?” you inquired, already having a decent idea of who it is. From the growl that escaped Yunho’s lips, you already knew that you were right but you still wanted to hear him say it. You didn’t say a word to him you simply stopped the movement of your hand and looked at him, your eyes boring into his in an attempt to deduce his next move. Was he really that against you talking to Mingi? Or was it just because of the timing of the call? “Mingi,” he whispered before handing me the phone. Taking it from his hand you could see Yunho attempt to fix his clothes. “Stay,” you simply said to him before answering the still ringing phone.

To be quite honest you weren’t really paying any mind to what Mingi was saying; your senses focused on the whimpering hybrid beside you. You had already begun caressing his dick once more while still being on the phone with Mingi, you didn’t mind too much if Mingi found out what you were doing but Yunho on the other hand tried his absolute best to keep his noises at bay. This continued on for a few more minutes as you tried your best to keep Mingi on the phone, testing how long Yunho could hold out. Quickening your pace on his ever-flowing dick you could see Yunho convolve as he clung unto you, his teeth threatening to tear through his lush lips. He was almost at his breaking point.

“Mingi could you just hold on please my friend is calling the apartment phone,” you lied, “oh no you don’t need to hang up it will only take a minute.” Placing your phone against your shoulder; but not really attempting to muffle any sound, you turned to Yunho, “Are you coming today or not?” you enquired in the best nonchalant voice you could muster up. To Mingi it would just seem as though you had a friend over but Yunho knew better, his needy pants and muffled whimpers understood all too well. Looking up at you he nodded his head frantically before burying his face into your shoulder once more in a desperate attempt to muffle his sounds. He couldn’t hold it in any longer, if he was asked to his entire body would have surely combusted right there and then.

“Okay then hurry up,” you replied before returning to your phone call. “Yeah I’m gonna watch a movie with a friend in a bit, you should come next-,” you continued your conversation until you felt a sharp pain on your neck causing you to yelp, followed by a splash of liquid landing on your hand. “Are you okay?” you heard Mingi ask. “Yeah I’m fine I just bumped my toe,” you explained with a slight laugh trying your best to calm your breathing. “Well that’s good then,” he continued, “but please be careful else you’ll make me worry.”

“You don’t need to though, I already have someone like that and he’ll be here soon so I should go,” you stated before saying your goodbyes. You could sense a slight opposition from Mingi on the phone but that didn’t bother you much cause you had someone else to worry about. You look one last look at the quivering hybrid who had collapsed on your living room floor before you stood up.

Rushing to the restroom you began filling the bathtub before retrieving a damp cloth and heading back to the exhausted hybrid in your living room. After cleaning up most of the mess you told Yunho that he needed to take a bath which resulted in him releasing a groan before attempting to get up. Standing beside him you watched as his legs shook releasing a small giggle at the sight. “Shut up,” he said with a slight pout on his lips. “I really did a number on you didn’t I,” you continued.

“Please stop talking,” he groaned as he slowly made his way to your restroom. “Are you going to make me?” you pushed on loving the personality gap that he was displaying. You loved how he went from a whimpering mess to the playful yet slightly defiant Yunho that he currently is. You felt his grip on your arm, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were connected. “Do you want me to?” he inquired, his golden eyes searching yours. “Huh?” was the only thing that could leave your mouth, unbelievable, even after all that you’ve just done to him he can still reduce you to a deer in the headlights that simplicity? “I’m yours,” he whispered just softly enough for you both to hear; like it was a precious secret only to be shared between you too, “I’d do anything you want me to. Whatever you want from me I’ll give it to you.”

[stray-kids-react]

S/O likes enjoys writing/writing lyrics

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° You owned this special and locked diary for years, where you kept all your bottles up emotions and feelings in.

° One of those feelings evolving your long time crush on Chan, including the words 'Sexy, Cute, Inspirational, Hot, Prince, and A Literal Angel' all in quite a few pages. Luckily your now long time boyfriend has never seen these fangirl/boy paragraphs.

° Chan was all of those words, no doubt about it. But it is still hard to look at those paragraphs without cringing at how desperate you sounded in your mind.

° Chan however apparently loved your affectionate paragraphs, flipping through the pages as you walked through his studio door. Your heart sank as pure shock and terror rushed through your veins. No one wants their private thoughts to be read.

° The tips of Chan's ears were firetruck red, as a beaming grin flashed towards you. You noted that he read through the entire diary, knowing all the dreams and wishes you had that involved him. No skeletons were left in your closet anymore, it was bittersweet.

"So you really think I'm an angel who is also the sexiest person on earth?" he teased, cupping your face in his palms.

"Well duh, but you can't tell me you didn't think anything like that towards me-" You defended, cut off by his sweet kisses.

Lee Know

° Minho found out about your true feelings towards him while reading some song lyrics you wanted to show 3Racha.

° He needed to know who you loved and admired so dearly after reading this, constantly by your side questioning anything he could. After literal weeks of conspiracy, you couldn't take his suspicion anymore and admitted everything.

° You are now much more secretive with your songs that you've written, but that won't stop Minho from looking everywhere he possibly can. He is determined to find them.

° After so many large steps that were taken in your relationship, he wants to see how you truly felt throughout them. From the first date, first time, to the promise ring he fave you last week. Minho wants to say it's to tease, when it's truly because he loves you.

° He loved the way his stomach did kart wheels as his heart fluttered when he first read your words. He hasn't felt that amazing feeling in a while and needs to re live it, luckily for him he noticed a place he has never thought of checking.

"So kitten, you really want to marry me don't you?" he commented, a soft smirk across his glowing features.

"Why wouldn't I? You're you. And how'd you find those?!" you replied, tone changing as you saw how many he actually had.

Changbin

° Changbin was struggling to create a new song, he seemed to accidently make similar beats and lyrics to their past hits.

° You would sometime write up different songs when you were bored, but you never showed them to anyone thinking they weren't great. But Changbin looked in need of some type of inspiration, so you brought out your journal and placed it infront of him.

° His expression was unreadable, either about to thank you for the amazing inspiration or laugh at your cheesy words. You just wanted him to say something.

° Changbin began to smile shyly, showing you a page he just read over. That page happened to be the most recent and the one you completely forgot about. It was a draft about 10 different ways you could tell Changbin that you loved him.

° You really wanted it to be special when you would say it to him, but luck didn't seem to be on your side that day. You were at least glad that he was smiling, showing positive signs that he isn't feeling awkward or doesn't feel the same way about you.

"I love you too my adorable bean." He chuckled, pulling you into his lap as he held you close to his racing heart beat.

"I'm guessing he new comeback is going to be a love song now?" you teased, burrowing into his soft black hoodie.

Hyunjn

° Your relationship use to be a cat and mouse situation, one day you two were best friends and then the next you two were rivals.

° Your anger and frustration towards one another was simply a way to hide your true emotions. Both of you found each other attractive in and out, but were too stubborn to confess. That is until he walked into your room and pressed you up against the wall.

° Your rivalry left out the door once you started dating, the only ounce of it was left in the small playful bickering and teasing. Which happened every day of the week.

° You walked into the dressing rooms, noticing Han and Felix giggling as your presence became known. This wasn't a usual giggle of theirs, something was going on. You knew that for sure once you saw the way Hyunjin presented himself.

° A sly smirk across his lips as a couple crumpled peace of paper were in between his fingers. His steps were long and powerful, as he held his head up high while nearing you. This usually meant he found something to tease you with.

"I didn't know you liked me for five years, coming up with so many cute pet names if we ever dated." He teased, hiding his blush.

"First of all, you went through my desk without asking me. Second of all, I am whipped for you dumb dumb." You replied.

Han

° You weren't a very vocal person, having trouble expressing your thoughts and emotions through words everyday.

° That reason alone is also why people think you and Han are a perfect match. He helped you come out of your shell and be comfortable in your own skin. All of those actions sent your heart into a frenzy, finding there way into pages filled with emotion.

° Han knew about your habit of writing cute quotes on your palms and arms, or just randomly taking out your journal and starting a new page.

° He respected your privacy even if the temptation of knowing every little thought you have was very very strong, he held back and let you write in peace. However, when you dropped your journal without knowing. Han held it and the temptation took over.

° As you had a chat with Seungmin, he turned around from your eye sight and flipped through the pages. Many of them expressing how much you love him and how much he helped you without him even knowing. This effected Han immensely.

"Hannie are you crying?" you questioned, noticing the forming gloss over his sparkling chocolate orbs.

"Yeah, but it's happy tears. I just never knew how much you cared about me, and it makes me feel important." He explained.

Felix

° You cannot hide anything from this adorable koala, he knows you too well and can find anything you've hidden from him.

° You learned this the hard way when you asked him for help when forgetting where you left your journal, panicking since the last place you saw it was at Minho's. Felix knew you usually placed it near your bed and assumed it to be under the covers.

°His assumption was spot on, but you had no idea that he had found it yet. Felix took this advantage to skim through a few pages, smiling at the sight of his name in the book.

° His name was mentioned ever since the day you first met, January 7th 2017. He was written as this attractive aussie that had your knees weak, he laughed silently at the realization that you fancied him since the first day you met. He loved it.

° Felix walked out with the navy blue book tight in his grip, his ears a bright shade of red. You knew he must've read some sort of page about him, but you weren't nervous about it. It couldn't have been anything more cheesy than what you say on dates.

"I can't believe Han knew about your crush on me that entire time." Felix chuckled, shock filling his expression.

"And I can't believe you never knew how much I truly admired you." You teased back, kissing his freckle speckled cheeks.

Seungmin

° Seungmin met you at a library, you were working on a soft poem about not being able to find the right person.

° That whole meeting seemed like something right off of a romance movie or fanfiction novel. Writing about giving up on love as an amazing guy happens to cross paths with you. But both of you laugh at the whole cliché nature of your meeting.

° Seungmin loved how you wrote, taking him into the story each time. He felt so special whenever he found something referring to your relationship, feeling fuzzy inside.

° He liked to bring some of your poems on tour with him, reminding him to stay strong when being away from you. Letting him know that you'll always be there for him when he needs you, even if you are both countries away from each other.

° Felix once found his stash of poems that you wrote, he never teased him on it but would still smile excitedly at how sentimental Seungmin was becoming. Seungmin knew he was becoming cheesy and mushy, he hated yet loved it.

"Do you know how much you have effected me?" he questioned, tracing the curve of your jaw with his thumb.

"Or maybe you have an addiction to me, ever think of that?" you responded, smiling widely as he rolled his eyes at your words.

Jeongin

° You worked under JYP entertainment to help create songs for different groups, Jeongin noticed you during his break.

° You rarely got to work with Stray Kids since they made 99% of their own songs, but that didn't stop Jeongin from trying to get to know you. It worked in his favor, since you began to develop a living in him after two months of hang out together.

° Jeongin likes hearing certain songs you create or in the process of being created, cheering you on and telling all of his members when you created a song.

° He liked to give you the credit and appreciation you rarely get, most of the credit going towards the artist who performed the songs you created. Jeongin wanted to let you know how proud he was of you daily, even if you got shy from it.

° Whenever you showed him different samples of songs you were working on, he'd dance in his seat with a beaming smile. Even when you were tired and wanted the day to end, his admiration and addicting smile would make your mood change instantly.

"I am just worried because JYP has been pretty harsh on the past few songs." You sighed, tired and frustrated.

"He literally wrote a song about women's butts. I'm pretty sure you're more talented baby." He reassured, patting your head.

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain (5)

Chapter Five- Think About Us

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Feeling lucky to have met Sharon in Madripoor, she could be your lead to find out the origins of the new super serums. Meanwhile, your one-sided love for Bucky might turn out otherwise.

Warnings: Awkward run-ins. Sexual tension, perhaps? A slow slow burn. Violence. A few bad words.

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: Hi everyone! Ever since I started this series, I gained a great number of followers and I am so thankful for everyone who did so! I am really glad you have been enjoying this series so far! 😆

Please let me know what you think of the story, I really appreciate it! 😘

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

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Sharon brought you back to her place and you were amazed at how high end it was. The residential place had armed security and as you entered the building, you realised that there was a gallery within it filled with stolen original artworks.

Sharon explained how she had to chose to make the most of her new life. Even she was a fugitive of the states, she made sure she put her skills to use so that she could enjoy a comfortable life.

You were in awe at her resilience. Sam in an innocent moment, couldn’t believe that all the artworks in Sharon’s gallery were the real deal and Bucky informed that the museums were all holding fakes.

Letting you know that she’s hosting clients in an hour, she ushered all of you to go get changed. Sharon told you to choose anything from her personal wardrobe and offered you to use the bathroom.

Giving your thanks, she left you to your own. You immediately took off your heels and pulled the strings that held your dress together. Taking advantage of her bathroom products, you wiped off your makeup and allowed yourself a refreshing quick shower.

Once the last bit of bubbles was washed off your body, you towelled yourself off and put on a fresh set of underwear. As you were about to reach for the hairdryer, you suddenly heard the jolt of the door and you turned to see Bucky entering the same bathroom.

It was a brief second of exchange before you turned your back on him while he exited and close the door behind him.

“Oh shoot, sorry- I didn’t know-” Bucky stuttered as he struggled to find the right words. You felt your cheeks turning hot but tried to stay cool.

“It’s okay, don’t need to worry.” As you were met with silence, you couldn’t help but wince at the awkward moment and hoped to make it go away.

“Are you urgent?” You added on to see if he would respond. His next words brought you relief as you thought he would have just walked off without notice.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I can wait.” You thought that you didn’t want to make him wait and quickly rushed to wear the oversized white blouse and light flared denim that Sharon passed to you.

You quickly proceeded to open the door to find Bucky standing awkwardly with his hands behind and his head looking down on the floor. You saw he had picked out a black ensemble- a black blazer, black shirt, black pants and black shoes.

He looked so good you wanted to melt into a puddle.

When he heard the doors opened, he immediately raised his head to meet your eyes. You tried to give a reassuring smile to ease the atmosphere and told him that he could use the bathroom first. You could dry your hair later.

“I swear I didn’t see anything, I mean I did for a second but that was it.” Bucky tried to explain himself. He hated how he was suddenly being weird around you.

Maybe he was acting because this was the first time he has even remotely seen a woman like that after years of HYDRA’s brainwashing and being on the run. But then again, he had seen all those bikini pictures of women on dating apps and while it was bizarre to him, it didn’t faze him in the way it just did with you.

In all his years that Bucky had known you, that was probably the first time he has actually seen you in such an intimate image. What was up with tonight and why was he suddenly feeling so much about you?

“It’s fine, Buck! It’s not like you are a pervert or something.” Trying to crack a joke so that Bucky could relax, you saw the side of his mouth quirk up in agreement before he stepped into the bathroom.

-------------------------//---------------------------

You entered the room last seeing everyone was already gathering and talking. Greeted by the sight of Zemo pouring himself a drink and Sam putting on a shirt, your eyes moved to where Sharon joined Bucky on the couch.

You managed to catch the last bit of conversation where Sharon was shading Bucky in regard to the topic of John Walker. Sharon warned of potentially crossing paths with the power broker as you all wanted to find more leads on Nagel.

Sam tried to convince her to help and promised to clear her name. As she poured herself a drink, you could tell from Sharon’s expression that she was not buying it. Her walls were up after the last incident and she wasn’t sure if she could trust you all anymore.

Sam pressed on but Sharon refused to be pitied. He then made it a deal and she relented. Sharon mentioned how her clients were well-connected and she would see if she could get anything useful from the party.

Looking at you stand uncomfortably at the corner, she came up to you and squeezed your shoulder to comfort you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch all this while. There’s no excuse.”

“It’s fine, you were dragged into it pretty much like I was.” Sam gave a surprising look at how Sharon was fine with your apology.

Noticing it, Sharon then explained that she had a softer spot for you since you were friends and you had stuck your neck out for her on several occasions during your S.H.I.E.L.D days.

She was willing to overlook it compared to her almost non-existent history with Sam.

“I’m surprised you kept your secret from me, I thought we were friends after all.” You knew she was referring to your powers. Nervously licking your lips, you responded.

“I’m sorry. It was Director Fury’s order.” The guilt seeped in.

“And you actually revealed it for the first time publicly for him?” Without mentioning his name, Bucky knew Sharon was referring to him. He looked over to see you giving a nervous and awkward smile. While curious to know what you would say, Bucky just looked somewhere else pretending to be unbothered.

“There’s a lot more to it, Sharon. I wish I could tell you more.”

“He’s really something, huh?” Sharon said before sipping her drink. You actually knew what to say but held back especially since Sam and Zemo were in the room.

More importantly, Bucky was there. Sensing your hesitance and noticing your fleeting glance over at Bucky, Sharon had a hunch but she was more than aware to not harp on it.

Giving an awkward laugh, you tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You looked into her eyes in a quiet exchange and she returned you a brief smile before telling everyone to lay low and enjoy the party.

-------------------------//---------------------------

The music was bouncing off the speakers wildly and the flashing lights in the club caused to squint your eyes a bit. Sharon was already working while the rest of you figured how you would exactly blend in.

Zemo was already working his way onto the dance floor and you were flabbergasted at the mere sight of him starting to bust out some moves to the music. You could see Sam being approached by some people and beginning to make small talk.

Turning your head to find Bucky, you realised you had lost sight of him in the crowd. You weren’t exactly in a party mood seeing you’re all alone and opted to head to the bar.

Before taking another step, you heard someone calling for you.

“Hey.” Spinning your head to the source of the voice, you were met with the vision of a tall and handsome man with a boyish smile. You were taken aback by his request to dance and you thought you probably looked like an idiot turning your head to look for your help.

When you face the guy once more, he had an earnest look that was waiting for your answer. Giving him another quick glance up and down, you didn’t think of him to be a sleazy dude. He kind of looked alright but you were wondering that if he were to be in Madripoor, could he even be up to any good?

“You’re really beautiful and I just wanted to dance.” He added on in hopes that you would agree.

Seeing how you were taking a long time to respond, the man reached out to grab your hand and pulled you closer to him. He respectfully kept you at a distance and did not immediately press himself against you.

Blinking like a deer in headlights, you took a sharp intake as he spun you to press your back against his front and placed his hands on your waist. Leading you to dance, you could feel him swaying side to side and guiding you to follow the same. You weren’t sure where to even put your hands and started cracking your knuckles in nervousness.

You bit your lip as you thought about how you should get yourself out of this. The man seemed nice enough but you weren’t into him. You are an agent and someone with superpowers, you should be able to get out of this mess.

Waiting for the right timing to tell him that you didn’t want to continue this, a cold hand reached out to grab yours and firmly pull you out of the man’s grip on you. Your eyes met with a familiar chest and in the next moment, a warm hand rested on your back.

Titling your head up, piercing cerulean orbs met yours and you heaved a sigh of relief at the recognition of the owner with the beautiful eyes.

“Sorry I’m late, doll.” His voice was reverberating all the way from his chest. Your eyes shied away to meet his once more before you peered over your shoulder at the embarrassed man.

“Hey man, I didn’t know. She didn’t say anything.” The man raised his hands in surrender but Bucky was not pleased with his explanation.

“If she didn’t say anything, it is not consent.” Bucky shot back with a death stare. You swore Bucky could add staring onto his list of super abilities as it always seemed to make people tremble in fear, save for Sam.

When the man was gone, Bucky apologised before letting you go. Instant disappointment washed over you as you had secretly hoped to be held by him longer. Bucky cleared his throat and tried to look somewhere far as he didn’t know what to say next in this situation.

You were overwhelmed with emotions and thought that it was now or never.

“Do you wanna dance?” You looked up to see Bucky looking back at you with wide eyes. You instantly regretted ever asking the question and quickly turned yourself away before he could even say anything.

Bucky’s hand shot out to grab yours to stop you from moving and the two of you exchanged in a silent moment before he spoke.

“I don’t really know how to dance to this. Music was different back in the day. The dance is also uh- different-” You knew Bucky was referring to the exceedingly intimate dancing of people that were surrounding you.

It was the norm but you would never see yourself doing that. The only time where you would actually let loose and dance that provocatively was in good fun with your girlfriends or gathered a stroke of courage with hard liquor.

“We don’t need to follow them. We can dance by our own rules.” Hands reaching out to hold his, you moved them to the rhythm to allow him to feel the music. You then lift your right and his left hand in the air before you twirled yourself.

Bucky’s lips moved up into a brief smile as you led the dance with confidence. The two of you were in your own bubble, uncaring of your surroundings. Seeing Bucky loosened up a little more, you picked up the confidence to groove your hips to the music. Recognising the song, you sang it enthusiastically and lost yourself in the lyrics.

This was probably the first time you had the chance to visibly relax from the aftermath of the last fight and the grief of your loss. Bucky couldn’t hold back his grin when he saw how you looked so carefree. He knew that even though you looked cheerful most of the time, he could always sense a tinge of sadness behind those eyes.

The next song was familiar to you as it was a favourite of yours. It was a popular Latin pop song and it easily invites one to dance their heart out.

Wrapping your hands behind his neck, you motioned him to follow you in slightly swaying to the music. The song sang of two people who were attracted to each other and you couldn’t help but wished it was fitting for this context.

Believing that your attraction to Bucky was only one-sided, you took this chance to be able to ever have such intimacy with him. As you sang the song, you playfully made up such actions to the lyrics that came off flirtatious. You believed Bucky was playing along with you in the moment but that was where you thought wrong.

Listening to the lyrics of the song, Bucky’s ear turned red at what the song was about. Seeing how you were acting, he thought that you were just feeling out the song but Bucky felt otherwise. When the beat dropped, Bucky made a sudden move to pull closer by the waist.

Lowering his head nearer to yours, your breath hitched at the sudden turn of events. You didn’t think one dance with Bucky would turn out like this. One of your hands slid from the back of his to hold his jaw. Your thumb stroked his light beard and you realised your noses were almost brushing.

What was going on? Could Bucky also feel the same way or was he too caught up in the moment. Both of your hands slid down to smooth the lapels of his jacket before resting on his broad chest. Your eyes averted away due to the intensity of his brooding stare but Bucky took this chance to bring his hand to tilt your head back to face him straight on.

“Bucky-” Whispering his name to get his attention, you didn’t know the effect it had on him as his attention went to your lips tinted with a balm. Were your lips always this alluring? He suddenly really wanted a taste to find out.

Bucky slanted his head to an angle before lowering his lips. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you anticipated what was about to happen.

“Hey guys, Sharon got a lead!” Sam’s voice broke you out of your trance and you snapped your eyes open. Without looking at Bucky, you quickly turned to see Sam making his way through the crowd to find the two of you.

“Here!” You piped up before making quick steps to the man, leaving a bewildered and disappointed super-soldier behind. Sam pointed to you where Sharon was and when he turned back to see Bucky, he was confused as to why Bucky was staring at him like he wanted him dead.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Nagel’s hideout was speculated to be amongst the shipping containers. Sharon warned you that the longer you stayed in Madripoor, the lesser chances you had of leaving with the bounty on all of you.

She passed you in-ear comms before giving you the container number. Before she walked away, you stopped her in her tracks.

“Would you be alright? I could come with you instead.” You added that the three men should be good on their own but Sharon insisted that she would be fine on her own. She wished you good luck before leaving you all.

As the four of you entered the container, you weren’t sure if you were in the right place. Zemo managed to find the handle of the door and looked back at all of you.

Sam and Bucky readied themselves with guns while you nervously fidgeted with your hands. As Bucky walked up to you, he gave you a longing stare but you quickly averted your eyes away.

Your mind was still reeling from what happened at the club last night and you couldn’t believe that things went that far. Was it real or was it just a dream? You shook your head to snap you out of your thought as you refocus on the mission at hand.

Sam and Bucky both took the lead while you were pacing side by side with Zemo. You looked to see him with a sudden solemn expression as you continued to make your way forward.

As the music started playing from a speaker somewhere, the sight that greeted you showed that the inside of this container was refurbished to be some sort of lab.

Venturing inwards, you saw a man who you presumed to be Dr Nagel. Zemo turned off the record player and Sam called for the doctor.

The doctor though frightened, was still relatively calm at the sight of all four of you in his supposed hidden lab. Despite the intrusion, Dr Nagel was indifferent and asked for everyone to leave. While he made his way, his feet stopped at the sight of Bucky.

Sam suggested he better speak of what he knew about the super-soldier serums but Nagel seemed defiant. He even asked for a counter-proposal to make him talk.

That’s when you heard Sharon speaking in the comms about approaching company. Time was pressing and you were frustrated at the doctor’s refusal to speak. Bucky took the rougher approach and immediately went to sit Nagel down while pointing a gun directly at his head.

You sighed in exasperation when Sharon spoke in your comms once more to inform you that every bounty hunter in Madripoor had known of your location and was coming to get all of you.

Nagel feared Bucky the most, knowing what he was actually capable of all. He began to share how he worked for HYDRA then the CIA. He managed to get his hands on an American test subject with semi-stable traces of the super-soldier serum.

You closed your eyes wearily as you knew who he was referring to. Nagel then went on to talk about how he managed to recreate the serum after much hard work and referred to himself as a god.

His project was paused when he was snapped. However, when he came back, he sought refuge here in Madripoor. The power broker was very eager to fund his work. He had made exactly twenty vials of the serum but they were all stolen by Karli Morgenthau.

He remarked that Karli had contacted him to seek help for someone, Donya Madani who was diagnosed with tuberculosis. This was definitely a clue to help you all step in the right direction.

“Y/N L/N.” The sudden call of your name had you meet eyes with Nagel. You didn’t expect him to look at you with a leering smile that managed to creep you out. All the men were curious why he had suddenly called for you.

“I read your leaked files. You are the only one of your kind. Perhaps, the only one who managed to surface from the shadows.” Nagel’s words only served to confused everyone before he continued.

“I am a believer of Science, but when there has been little research, you can’t help to turn to stories. You are human yet you are not. How on earth are you able to gain superpowers without any experimentation done on you?” You realised this was why Director Fury had you hidden all this while cause he knew that people like Nagel would love to get his hands on you.

“It would be an honour for me to able to find out what courses through your veins and make you so powerful. Perhaps, if I am able to provide such privileges to those who were willing to pay for it, I will be unstoppable.”

Talking like a mad man, you shook your head in disbelief at what he was implying. The fact he wanted to treat you like a test subject for his personal science project. Bucky clutched the gun in his hands harder while you went forward to grab Nagel’s collars.

Your hands glowed brightly, threatening to burn Nagel. He was a crossed between looking fearful and fascinated at the same time.

“You bastard-”

“Guys, we’re seriously out of time here!” Sharon busted through the doors right at this moment. Your hands on Nagel slackened as you turned towards Sharon. Before you knew it, a gunshot was fired and Sam had Zemo backed up to the wall.

Nagel fell flat on the floor with a bullet lodged right at where his heart would be.

The breaking of windows came before the flames burst through the room. Everyone went to hide from the blast while you stretched your hands to use your powers to subdue it. While the impact was reduced, everyone still fell back on the floor from the shock.

Bucky who managed to recover faster went to help everyone up and you pulled them to their feet. All of you managed to make your way to the exit.

Even in the smoke, you could make out the shadows of the bounty hunters who were preparing a shootout. Bucky tried to lead but Sam already went ahead. You rolled your eyes at the fact that they couldn’t work together for once.

All three of your friends started to fight back with the onslaught of people after your lives. As you faced your palms out on standby, Sam reminded you to not use your powers.

“Do we look like we have the privilege to do that now?” You retorted before sending blasts consecutively to know each hunter down like a domino.

As you knocked out each person, you could hear arguing at the back from Sam and Bucky. You had it and you shot a huge blast that reminiscing of a torch blower before you sharply turn back at the two bickering children.

“For the love of god, if you two don’t stop this, I will burn your tongues off.” You said it like you mean it before the two men zipped shut.

A sudden burst of flames took your attention next and you hold up your hands to build a barrier to protect your friends. All of your attention was directed to Zemo appearing out of nowhere and taking out people easily.

You all decided to escape from your hiding spot and find somewhere safe. Your group were met with a couple more bounty hunters which Bucky easily took care of. All of you retreated to a container before Bucky burst out of the other end.

Zemo came and pulled up with a car with a cheeky smile. Was this man the same one from before?

Sam gave him shit for pulling the stunt on Nagel and claimed that he would send him back to jail. However, Bucky intervened and reasoned that you all still needed Zemo to find Karli. Getting into the car before Sam, you were surprised to hear Sharon wouldn’t be joining you. She held Sam to the promise of a pardon and you stretched your hands to squeeze hers affectionately.

“Take care.” You bided her farewell before she did the same.

-------------------------//---------------------------

“You, okay?” Bucky checked in with Sam as he finally took a breather after making a call. You sat beside Bucky as he cleaned out the dirt and blood from his vibranium arm.

There was a lot to process from what happened in Madripoor. Learning about what Sharon had to go through and how Nagel was a mad scientist who did not have respect for human beings.

“Are you okay?” Bucky turned to you next. He was worried for you when he saw how you were with Nagel. Your rage was clear as day when you heard how the doctor spoke of you like you were some work of scientific wonder to be poked and prodded.

He could only imagine how upsetting it was for you like how it unsettled him to have you being talked about in that manner. You gave his vibranium hand a light squeeze before leaning your head on his shoulder for comfort.

“I will be okay.” You sighed before closing your eyes to rest. Bucky held your hands and laid them on his leg as he saw you trying to relax from all the events that had happened earlier. He decided to let you have your peace.

You could hear your boys started talking properly for once without arguing about Steve’s shield. It seemed like everything had been a mess. Sam went on to say that he should have it destroyed while Bucky countered that the shield was important to many people including himself.

He vowed to make sure he takes it back from Walker cause it sure plain as hell that he was not suited to be your new Captain. Sam managed to find out who Donya Madani was and informed that she had passed away.

Feeling the other end of the seat sinking, you figure Zemo had taken that spot. He remarked that he had a place that you all could go in regard to Donya’s last location and requested a change of course.

Bucky looked down to see you already laying still, probably getting a quick shut-eye. Catching Sam’s glance down at your tangled hands, Bucky looked away to seem apathetic where in reality, his heart was racing wildly as he hears the soft breathing that soon came out of your lips.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @archaeoheart @conflicted-noxsirius

[actress4him]

The Barn 4 - The Pole

(Prompt #1 for Summer of Whump)

Yes, I’m coming in at the last minute with one more Summer of Whump prompt, and yes, it’s prompt #1. Also, if you read more than one of my series I’m sorry that this one is kinda like that one chapter of In Irons...? But I actually thought of this one first, and yes, it was inspired by Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Warnings: captivity, restraints, dehumanization, references to beating, mild blood, starvation, dehydration, nausea, emeto, fainting, heat exhaustion/stroke, probably medically inaccurate

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Stetson dropped Jacob’s foot, and another puff of red dust went up into the air, joining the cloud that his body had created as it was dragged. It would have been the perfect time for him to leap up and try to run again, but he couldn’t move. His everything ached.

A second later a leather-clad hand gripped his arm and yanked him upright. Jacob’s head swam with the swift change in elevation and his nose throbbed. While he was busy trying to get the world to stop spinning around him, Stetson roughly pulled his arms behind his back and started winding rope around his wrists.

Fantastic. He hadn’t even gotten to enjoy them being free.

Once they were thoroughly wrapped and the rope pulled tight, Stetson stood, taking the tail end with him and jerking Jacob’s arms backwards in the process. He cried out in surprise, and tried to get up. His legs only cooperated enough to scoot him back a few inches, but it was enough to let his arms rest against his back again.

Whatever Stetson was doing, he finished up and came back around to squat in front of his captive, arms propped across his knees and brown eyes studying him just as emotionlessly as ever.

“Maybe a few days of this’ll teach you some manners.”

“Doubt it,” Jacob immediately shot back without thinking. “My mom’s been trying to teach me manners for twenty-six years. I wouldn’t count on a few days making much of a difference.”

Stetson huffed very lightly, something that almost could have been taken for a laugh if Jacob wasn’t positive the guy didn’t know how. “We’ll see.”

Straightening with a quiet popping of joints, he turned and strolled away.

There was no way he was just leaving Jacob alone and able to run off. Craning his neck painfully around, he finally took a look at what was behind him. A post. A wooden post, probably coming up to around his shoulders. And the rope that was tying his wrists was looped through a metal hook in the top and knotted.

Okay, no problem. Jacob was good with his hands, he had nimble fingers from spending all day typing code. Struggling to his feet, he bent over forward so that he could reach and felt his way up the rope until he reached the knot, fingers fumbling around it, trying to get a sense of where it started.

Instead, he found a padlock.

Jacob let out a frustrated scream, the first time he’d actually had a chance to vent his feelings since this whole nightmare began. It felt good enough that he did it again. Then he ran forward, as hard as he could, as if he was somehow going to break the rope or pull the post out of the ground instead of nearly ripping his shoulders out of socket when he abruptly reached the end of his lead.

Tied to a stupid pole like...like a horse, or a dog. He was a human, dang it! Who did these people think they were, treating another person like this? The last…forty-eight? seventy-two? He didn’t even know how many hours anymore...had been completely flabbergasting, just seeing the sheer number of people who thought this was perfectly okay. And now he was stuck, in the middle of nowhere, with some psychopath who thought he was gonna what, train him? To do what, he didn’t even want to know.

Night was falling by then. Jacob was beyond exhausted, and resigned himself to sinking back down to the dirt, resting his back against the pole and getting as comfortable as possible.

The next day dawned with little sleep having been found. The sharp pains of yesterday had given way to stiffness and aches that made it hard to pry himself off the ground. His face was coated with dried blood and who knows what else, making him sticky and disgusted in addition to everything else.

He’d really never liked the outdoors that much. He was much more at home inside, in front of a computer. The outside had far too many things that could get you dirty, like, you know, dirt, for instance, like the kind of dirt he was currently sitting on and covered in. Most of his friends growing up had been your typical rough-and-tumble boys who lived for mud puddles and rolling down grassy hills, but Jacob had never been able to stand the feeling of being dirty.

Sweat was a thing encountered more often outdoors, too, and was just as bad as dirt. He could feel it, collecting underneath his shirt as the sun rose higher in the wide, blue sky. There was nothing in the way of shade in this field. Just dirt, dust, and more dirt, all surrounded by a wooden fence. A corral, probably. Meant for horses, not people.

The heat only grew more intense as the day wore on. There was no sign of Stetson, no indication that he would be bringing food or water or coming to untie him. Jacob hadn’t had anything to eat since this whole thing had begun, and no water since before the auction. His tongue was beginning to stick to the roof of his mouth.

He tried pacing around the pole, circling until the rope was tightly wound one way before turning and going the other way. His brain wasn’t used to boredom. There was always something to think about, always something to do. But now the only thing to think about was how absolutely screwed he was, and that wasn’t helping anything.

He tried pulling some more, too, not running this time, but turning until he could grip the rope in his hands and tugging backwards with all his might. Which, to be honest, wasn’t a lot. He was a computer geek, okay, working out wasn’t high on his list of priorities. The moral of the story was, pulling on the rope did nothing but make his back and arms ache even more.

The heat and the lack of stimulation made the day drag on and on forever. Jacob’s stomach moved from groaning to aching to roiling. If there had been anything in it, he was sure it would have been expelled. His head pounded something awful, and he wasn’t sure whether it was from heat or light or lack of water or having it repeatedly bashed in the day before.

By the time the sun finally started to sink beneath the horizon, his clothes were soaked with sweat, which was not only gross but also turned cold once night fell. He never thought that he’d actually miss the sun once it was gone. But now he was shivering, and the headache hadn’t gone away, and his stomach felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out, and he was pretty sure there was dirt in his mouth, and he was completely, totally, miserable.

Day two was somehow even worse than the first. Jacob tried standing up and stretching his legs, walking around the pole again, but he was so dizzy that he collapsed right back to the ground. Groaning, he dropped his forehead against the pole, grinding particles of dust further into his skin.

His...dry...skin. He didn’t know much about health and science, like, at all, but he was pretty sure not sweating in this heat was not a good thing. He almost felt cold still, like the chill of the night was clinging to his skin.

Hours dragged by. Every time he swallowed, it felt like nails going down his throat. Moving his head in any direction made the world swim around him, the blinding rays of the sun making spots dance across his vision. His stomach kept feeling worse and worse until he finally ended up folding over, retching uselessly again and again until every muscle in his torso was on fire and his head felt like it was exploding.

His only vague thought was, am I gonna die? before he fell face-first into the dirt and passed out.

A blast of cold woke him. He tried to gasp for air, but instead inhaled a mouthful of freezing water, sending him into a coughing fit that racked his sore stomach muscles. But the water just kept coming. It was harsh enough that he couldn’t even sit up against the onslaught, not that he was sure he had the energy to, anyway. The spray scoured every inch of his bare skin, leaving it stinging from both the pressure and the cold.

But it was water. Sweet, beautiful water. As soon as he stopped coughing he tried his best to gulp it in, letting the cold coat his scratchy throat.

He wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved when the spray finally stopped. Bringing up weary, unbound hands, he wiped the drips from his eyes, blinking blearily up at Stetson, who dropped the hose and stared him down.

“You didn’t last as long as I had planned.”

“M-maybe…” His voice came out as a croak, and he attempted to clear it. “Maybe you should try some...food ‘nd water. Haven’t...had any of that in a while.”

Stetson continued to stare with crossed arms for another moment before walking over and grabbing onto his ankle again. “You just had your water. Maybe you can have food tomorrow. We’ll see how well you behave.”

Ignoring Jacob’s weak protests and attempts to fight, he dragged him away from the doorway of the barn and into a nearby stall. Iron bars reached from the half wall up to the ceiling, giving it even more of a prison cell feel. The only good news was that he didn’t bother to tie him up this time, just threw him inside and left, shutting the door with a deafening creak and an ominous click.

[notquitetwilight]

THE CULLANOS: A TASTE OF BOSTON, PART TWO

The Cullanos continue taking care of business in Boston. Warning: this story contains graphic violence and sexual references (no smut, just truly cursed references). Previous instalment

Esme breathed shakily as she walked hand-in-hand with her husband past brownstone after brownstone. The street was deserted; it was just the two of them and the parked cars that lined their path. Her thoughts seemed to scream louder in the silence as she mentally willed that the daughter they left behind would be safe.

“S’like Brooklyn down here,” Carlisle said absentmindedly, keeping his voice low. When she didn’t answer, he looked at her, suddenly noticing her unease. “What’s the matta, baby?”

“I think…” she trailed off, unsure. She wasn’t used to being nervous. But she couldn’t shake the image of Rosalie’s wide eyes right before she had left her in the car. They were the same shade of blue as Carlisle’s, the type that seemed cold and piercing when narrowed, but inviting enough to swim in when widened. Though she’d never have admitted it, Esme knew she was afraid. And that made her afraid.

“I’m not sure we should’ve brought her.”

He frowned. “Rosie?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, our other child we were recently reunited with. Who else?”

“She wanted to come,” he said, raising a shoulder.

“So? If she said she wanted to do crack, would you let her?”

“Depends on whether or not she’d share,” he grinned.

“Carl, I’m serious,” she said, her voice cracking a little, which surprised both of them.

He squeezed her hand. “She’s a smart girl, Ezzie. She knows the drill.”

“Still, if somethin’ goes wrong—“

“It won’t.”

“If it does, I don’t…” she stopped in her tracks, feeling like she couldn’t take in air as quickly as her body needed her to. She closed her eyes as she tried to level her breathing. “If somethin’ were to happen to her, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d never forgive myself. Or you.”

She opened her eyes to find him looking a little wounded. “I thought this was what you wanted. Her here, with us.”

“It is,” she said, starting to walk again. “But all this is also why we gave her up in the first place, right?”

He groaned quietly. “Not this again.”

That infuriated her. She let go of his hand and made a great effort to keep the volume of her voice low in her response. “I’m sorry, is my fear for our daughter’s safety inconveniencin’ you?”

“I can’t keep doin’ this,” he said with a sigh. “Over and over, I keep tryin’ to make you happy, and over and over, I feel like I’m failin’. Because I don’t know what you want. Because you don’t know what you want.” He spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly, without a hint of malice. She balked at him.

“What?” was all she managed.

“You want me, but you don’t want me. So I try move on. Twice. When ya do want me, I’m there in a heartbeat. You want our daughter, but you don’t want our daughter, so I give up my chance to be a dad to her. But then you do want her, but only from a distance, so we torture ourselves watchin’ other people raise her. Then you want her, fully want her, so I bring her back to us, and ever since I did you’ve been sayin’ maybe we shoulda left her as she was. I don’t know what else to do. I feel like I can’t make you happy no matta what. Maybe you were right, all those times ya said family life wasn’t for you. Ya seem a lot less happy since we became one.”

She gritted her teeth and glared up at him, ready to risk their cover in screaming at him. Yet her anger dissolved immediately upon seeing his face. He looked…sad. Truly, hopelessly sad, the type that usually only came with grief. Only she was allowed to see him this vulnerable, and only she had seen him wear this same expression just twice before: the day of his mother’s funeral, and the day they gave Rose up.

She had never considered how all of it might have looked to him, how what she said or did could be misinterpreted. She just assumed he knew where her head was at, because she always knew where his was at. But it suddenly occurred to her that she knew everything he thought because he spoke everything he thought to her. He knew her well, better than anyone else did, but he wasn’t a mind-reader. And while she believed herself to be a relatively good communicator, she knew she was nowhere near as good as him.

“There it is,” he muttered, interrupting her thoughts. He came to a halt and nodded to the dark grey brownstone a little ahead of them, the last on the street.

She frowned. “That’s...their house?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s attached to other buildin’s,” she said flatly.

“Guess that’s what silencers are for.”

He started for the Ivanov residence while rooting in one of his pockets, but she pulled at his arm. “Carl.”

He let her grip lead him to face her, but he looked at his feet, kicking the ground.

“Look at me,” she said softly. His head stayed down and his forehead remained creased.

“Baby?” she tried. He raised his head to meet her eyes then, and she couldn’t help but smile with relief. He was usually the one for terms of endearment, so the rare times she used them, she got his full attention.

“I’m not...less happy,” she started, unsure of how to explain herself.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I am sure! Give me a chance. I’m much more happy, one hundred per cent. But I’m also much more worried. And maybe that’s what looks bad. Maybe I’m not handlin’ it right, I dunno. But I’m not used to bein’ worried. I’m not used to bein’...scared. And I am, Carl. For the first time in my life, I’m fuckin’ terrified. Almost 24/7.”

The line between his eyebrows deepened. “I don’t get it,” he shook his head the slightest bit. “Why? You’ve never been the anxious type.”

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to say,” she gripped onto his forearms and gently shook them. “I’ve never been scared because I only had myself to worry about. And I didn’t care what happened to me, or what kinda shit I got myself into. The money and the good time was worth it. Everything was carefree and I didn’t wanna be tied down. But it got to the point where I wasn’t...happy anymore. I think that’s where the Charles thing came from. You got married for the first time and I hated it. And it was my own fault, because I said no to you, but it was only when I saw what you had without me that I realised I wanted that, too. So I married that asshole and then that went to shit. Had me kinda believin’ I wasn’t meant to have that family life. And then it was back to square one; you askin’ me to marry you, me sayin’ no, you gettin’ married to someone else and me hatin’ it again.

“But I just continued doin’ what I wanted, not carin’, until that day she walked in on us in the kitchen. I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone the way I hated her that day. It was like, all of a sudden I realised that even though you were mine, you were officially hers on paper. She was the wife, I was the goomar. And I fuckin’ hated it and I fuckin’ hated her and I wanted it to just be fuckin’ done with already. And then she was dead and you were askin’ me to marry you again and it felt so right to finally fuckin’ say yes. And I think I started to feel a little bit like the stakes were higher after we made it official, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it is now. Not as bad as it’s been since Rosie came. We worked so hard for her to trust us, for her to want to stay with us. And now the three of us are finally together as a proper family. It might not be a ‘Brady Bunch’ scenario, but it’s us. It’s like, the last piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place, and now I’m waitin’ for it to fall apart. So you’re right, I’ve never been the anxious type. But I never had anything to lose. Now I do — I have everything to lose. And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost it.”

He wiped away a tear she hadn’t noticed rolling down her cheek and pulled her into him. She gasped for breath after rambling for so long. “Why didn’t you say?” he mumbled against her hairline, then kissed the top of her forehead.

“I dunno. Maybe I thought you knew already. Or maybe I didn’t wanna sound stupid.” She sighed and fully leaned into him, her cheek against his chest. This way, she was facing the Ivanov house, and it registered with her that there was the tiniest sliver of light visible through a gap in one window’s heavy curtains.

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all,” he stroked the back of her head. “It’s a relief, actually. I thought maybe you were gettin’ bored of it all. Of us.”

“Never,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the house so she could lift her head to look at him. “You’re my person, forever.”

“And she’s our person, that we made,” he smiled. “Isn’t that fuckin’ crazy, when ya think about it?”

“But isn’t that— doesn’t that make you scared? I’ve seen how much you adore her. Why aren’t you worried, like me?”

“I just...trust in my gut. And my gut says none of us are dyin’ for a long, long time.”

“That’s it?” she asked without snark. She was genuinely fascinated by his complete lack of concern for their safety.

“Yeah. I have faith in us. We’re not dumb, we’re not new to this, we’re good both as individuals and as a team. And like you said, there’s more to lose now, so there’s more to fight for. Think of how unstoppable you were when you didn’t give a shit. Can you imagine anyone bein’ able to stop you now that you do?”

“Guess not,” she said, feeling a smile growing across her face. She was still worried, but she felt much better. There was a lot of sense in what he said. His words did their job in comforting her, as they often did.

“I love you,” she said, pulling at his neck to bring his face down to hers. “You always know the right thing to say.”

She kissed him then, slowly and expressively at first. But she quickly began to lose herself in it, and her fingers found themselves running through his hair. He let out a soft groan before pulling away and grinning at her.

“Later, baby. We have a job to do.” He glanced at his Rolex and his face dropped. “Shit. We’re a lil’ behind schedule. Alice’ll be waitin’.”

She nodded and pointed at the house as the two of them began walking again. “Someone’s up, too.”

He squinted at the window as they both rooted around in their pockets for their earpieces. They stopped a little short of the brownstone as they put them in.

“You ready?” he whispered, taking her hand again and bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

She nodded once more, and the two of them turned on their earpieces.

“About tiiiiiiiiiiiime,” Alice sang the second they were connected. “You’re late. By five minutes!”

“A queen is never late,” Esme said, her speaking volume lower than Carlisle’s whisper had been. “Everyone else is simply early.”

“Did Madame Mafia just quote ‘the Princess Diaries’ to me?” Alice asked with mock shock.

Carlisle tilted his head and raised his brows.

“Rose showed it to me last weekend,” Esme answered defensively. “We were...bondin’.”

He smirked and turned away from her, eyeing up the house in front of them. “Okay Alice, how’re we doin’?”

“Strangely, no guards — not on the property, anyway. That’s not like them at all. I partly wondered if they were hanging around the area and you ran into a few, because you were late, but I guess not since you’re alive and calm. As for the Ivanovs themselves, two are home: Katarina and Garrett. I have eyes everywhere except the bathrooms, so unless the rest of the family and an army of cronies are hiding in showers, this should be pretty easy.”

The words were like music to Esme’s ears. Her shoulders immediately relaxed, and she finally began to feel excited. She beamed at Carlisle, who gave her a knowing smile and mouthed “see?” in return.

“That’s what I like to hear, Al,” he said. “And you’ll be able to shut their camera system down once we’re out?”

“Of course. Once you’re out and alive, it’s gone.”

“Great. So, they’re still up?”

“Unfortunately,” Alice groaned.

“Don’t worry about us Al, that makes it more fun.”

“I wasn’t saying ‘unfortunately’ because I don’t think you can handle them. I was saying ‘unfortunately’ because over the past half hour, I’ve seen some shit. And that’s saying a lot, considering I work for you two.”

Esme and Carlisle exchanged a look, the pair of them frowning.

“What do you mean?” she asked her.

“I mean I want a raise,” Alice grumbled, causing Carlisle to break into another smile.

“Ahh...they’re in a bedroom?”

“That idea, yes. But wrong room. The living room’s where you’re heading for. Second floor. The ground floor is more like an empty hall, kinda like those malls that don’t really start ‘til you go up the escalator. There’s an elevator, but obviously that’ll make noise, so you should take the stairs.”

“That’a girl. Did you see if they’re armed?”

“As far as I can tell, no. There’s a shit tonne of guns and what appear to be Molotov cocktails in the bedrooms, so don’t give them a chance to go running. I can’t see any weapons in the living room. But I mean you guys know, the likelihood that they’ve got something concealed somewhere — either in the room or on them — is 50/50.”

“Yeah, true. Thanks. I guess that’s our cue.”

“Alrighty. Good luck! I’ll be right here in your ears the whole time.”

The pair of them readied their weapons and clinked the tip of their guns together in salute as they always did.

“Ladies first,” he smiled at her, and he let her lead the way.

Back in the car, Rosalie leaned into her headrest after checking her timer for the umpteenth time. She had set it the second the couple disappeared from view and found herself checking it every minute or so since. There was nothing else to do. She didn’t want to get distracted by her phone in case trouble was around. She couldn’t play music, because she neither wanted to attract attention nor miss anything she’d need to hear. All she could do was wait in the silence, and every second that ticked by felt like an hour.

She almost jumped out of her skin when her phone noisily vibrated on the dashboard. She grabbed it in a panic as though it was loud enough to wake the whole street, but once it was in her hand, she simply stared at it. Royce. Of course. She should’ve known her on-again off-again boyfriend would be the only person to ring her at this hour. She let it ring out, then shifted in her seat to make herself comfortable. The second she did, her phone began to vibrate again. With an eye roll, she brought it up to her ear.

She was immediately met with loud sounds that caused her to wince and pull the phone back slightly. A baseline thudded, so she knew he was out, but the sound was too distorted for her to tell if he was at a club or a party.

“Hello?” she asked, beginning to wonder whether the calls had been accidental. A muffled voice finally spoke, though it said nothing comprehensible.

“Royce, is that you? I can’t hear you,” she tried, keeping her voice low. She wasn’t going to up the volume she had maintained just because he called her from a loud place.

“ROSE!” Royce boomed from the other end of the phone, causing her to wince again. “Come...c’mere. M’over...s’funnn.”

The combination of the loud atmosphere, poor connection and slurred words made it difficult to understand.

“Royce, I don’t know what you’re saying. You know I’m not even in New York or Jersey right now, right? Remember I told you?”

“M’over...” he said again before saying something intelligible.

She was losing patience. “You’re drunk again, and I don’t know what you’re saying. I can’t talk right now, okay? I’ve gotta go.”

He started shouting incoherently. The only thing she made out before hanging up on him was the word ‘bitch’.

She inhaled deeply and checked the timer again. They’d been gone seventeen minutes and 48 seconds. Esme had said to leave after the forty minute mark. She shuddered at the idea of having to drive off without them, wondering whether or not she’d be able to do so if that’s what it came to. It was hard to imagine life beyond them now, though they’d only been connected for a little over a year. She stared out the windshield, biting the inside of her cheek, and felt her phone vibrate again.

Huffing, she thrust it up against her ear. “I said I can’t talk!” she hissed.

It was dead silent. There was none of the noise of the previous call. For a split second, she wondered if she had accidentally hung up.

“Rosalie?” asked a clear, deep voice after a beat.

She paused. “Yes?” she said in a small voice.

“Oh, it is you, thank god!” Relief flooded her as she recognised the voice as Emmett’s. “I was a lil’ confused for a second there. Thought maybe I dialled the wrong number.”

“Sorry Emmett. I— I thought you were somebody else.”

“No prahblem, no prahblem.”

“Is everything okay? If you’re calling me because you couldn’t reach the lovebirds, they’re not back yet.”

“No, no,” he said. “I just wanted to check in and say hi while the two ‘a them are gone. Y’know, just makin’ sure you’re holdin’ up okay on your first big job.”

“Thanks,” she said, a little bitterly.

He must’ve picked up on her tone, because there was another pause. “Uh, sorry to bother you.”

“I’m not pissed at you, I’m pissed at them for thinking I need to be checked up on. I told them I’d be fine.”

“Huh? Nobody asked me to. I just wanted to.”

“Oh,” she said awkwardly, but the corners of her mouth tugged up.

“Yeah. It’s just, I remember how scared I was on my first big job.”

“I’m not scared,” she insisted, back to frowning.

“No? Then you’re a braver soul than I am. I was scared shitless.”

“Really? Carlisle never said.”

“Because he doesn’t know,” Emmett laughed. She didn’t know a sound could be so warm. “I held it together pretty well. But when all was done, he dropped me off at the corner of my block, and I waited for his car to disappear before pukin’ my damn guts up all over the sidewalk.”

She was the one laughing then. She leaned her head against the window as a silence fell over them.

“Okay, maybe I am a little worried,” she said quietly. “Time seems to be dragging by. Esme told me to leave if they’re not back within forty minutes. I obviously don’t want to have to even think about doing that.”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “Honestly though, I’m sure she said it as a precaution, and they’ll be back to ya in no time. You haven’t seen your parents in action. Let’s just say I’m glad I work for them, because I’d hate to be against them.”

“Thanks,” she said again, more sincerely this time.

“And it’s okay to be scared. It’s completely normal. The people who are never scared— those are the mad bastahds you gotta watch out for. Because you gotta be batshit crazy to never know fear.”

“Carlisle’s never scared,” she smiled.

“Well, there ya go, see!” Rosalie could hear the smile in his voice, too. “Case in fuckin’ point!”

She found herself laughing again. It came so easily to her when she spoke to him.

“I better get goin’, letcha get back to it.”

“Okay,” she said. “And thanks, Emmett. I think that helped.”

“No prahblem,” he said again.

“Unless Esme and Carlisle did put you up to this, in which case, no it didn’t.”

“I swear’ta gahd, Rosie, neither of them even know. I had to get your number from Alice.”

Rosie. He had picked that up from Carlisle. It was strange how much she’d come to like a nickname she initially detested.

“‘Kay. Well, thanks again.”

“You have my number now, too,” he said, sounding suddenly serious. “I’ll be right here at the other end of the phone, anytime you need me, ahrite?”

“Does that include if in twenty-or-so minutes’ time I have to decide whether or not to leave my long-lost parents for dead?”

“You betcha.”

“Great!”

He laughed. “Take care, Rosie.”

“Bye, Emmett.”

She hung up the call and resisted the urge to check the timer just yet. A new-found calmness had come over her, and she wanted to bask in it a little while longer.

“Is she beating him to death?” Carlisle whispered up at his wife as she reached the top of the stairs to the Ivanov’s second floor. Alice had been right, they ran into no extra bodies on their way in. And though she was several states away, she had disarmed the entrance’s security with ease.

“No,” Alice answered with a sigh before Esme could. “I think that might actually have made for easier viewing.”

“Don’t be such a prude,” Carlisle quietly teased.

“I’ll have you know, this isn’t your average spank session,” Alice scolded.

“Well now I’m curious,” Esme said, straining to listen. “Is this somethin’ I’m gonna wanna take note of?”

“Ugh, knowing you, probably,” came the answer in her ear.

Esme looked back to smirk at Carlisle.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Shoulda brought a pen.”

“I’ll take mental notes,” she promised.

“And if that fails, you can use the notes my therapist will have taken after I’ve word-vomited all this to her while rocking back and forth,” Alice announced.

Carlisle took his place beside Esme at the top of the stairs and slipped an arm around her waist. The long hallway ahead of them was windowless, its red and gold-patterned wallpaper interrupted by the occasional closed door. Still, it was brightly lit by the two massive chandeliers that hung from its high ceiling. To their left was the unit for the elevator. Carlisle waved at the little CCTV camera above it, prompting a laugh from Alice. Behind them was another set of stairs that led to higher floors they wouldn’t see. The Persian carpet that stretched the length of the hall floor would come in handy to muffle their footsteps.

“Up ahead, the second door on the left is the kitchen,” Alice told them. “It’s got a pass-through and an open plan door to the living room, so be careful.”

“‘Kay,” was all Esme dared to respond as Carlisle let her go. She crept forward.

The pair of them silently edged along the wall, the voices from the living room growing louder as they got closer. Esme stopped at the kitchen door and brought her pistol up to her chest. The pair of them concentrated on the voices inside.

“Alright, swap,” Katarina said. “It’s my turn to rest.”

There were two thuds, and then her voice mingled with a man’s as both began chant-like muttering. Esme couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Carlisle tapped her on the shoulder. When she looked at him, he mouthed, “praying?” with a confused frown.

She paused to listen and confirm, then nodded. He was right, though it left her no less confused. The muttering stopped, and there was some shuffling of feet. The sounds of slapping and groaning resumed, but this time they could tell Katarina was the receiver.

She nudged him and put her gun-free hand on the door handle. With his nod of approval, she slowly pushed it down and opened the door at an acute angle.

“You’re all clear here,” Alice told her, but she gave a quick glance around it anyway to get her bearings. The kitchen was reasonably small for such a big house, and it looked as though it had been home to a frat party. Mess, clutter and countless empty bottles of Absolut Vodka littered every surface. The pass-through was a few feet ahead on her left.

Tip-toeing inside, she immediately grabbed her other gun so she had one in each hand. Both of them made their way to the side of the pass-through as Garrett was saying something about Christ. They hunkered down, then crawled under it, and shimmied out of their heavyweight coats as quietly as possible.

Esme was about to rise slightly up when Carlisle touched her arm. “Only shoot if you have to,” he mouthed slowly so she’d get every word.

The two of them rose and peeped through together. Esme had been right; Garrett was sat on a chair with Katarina bent over his legs as he repeatedly slapped her backside. Still, he mumbled about “the Lord” this and “Jesus” that. Esme looked at Carlisle quizzically.

“Feel the hand of God,” Garrett suddenly half-shouted in comparison to his previous volume. “Who has the most lovin’ hand of all, Kate?”

“God, through you,” Katarina answered him.

“What the fuck is this?” Carlisle breathed, just about audible. “It’s like watchin’ Barbie get an exorcism.”

Esme pressed her lips together to contain a laugh, mentally cursing him. With Katarina’s long blonde hair and baby pink Adidas tracksuit, he wasn’t far off the mark.

“It’s called CDD,” Alice informed. “Short for ‘Christian Domestic Discipline’. The whole religion thing stumped me too when I saw them praying, because like, they’re not even the same religion, right? She’s presumably Orthodox and he’s gotta be Catholic. Anyway, I googled ‘pray spanking’ and found that. Apparently it’s a movement that started as like, a ‘women are inferior in Christian marriages and should treat their husbands like God himself’ thing, but naturally, it got turned into a kink.”

The two of them exchanged a look again and sank back down to their hunkers. Carlisle gestured out their route around the corner of the wall they were now up against and through the open plan door. He pointed to her and made a finger gun, then pointed to himself and pulled out a rope from one of his coat pockets. She nodded once and rounded the corner with her guns raised right as Garrett’s head looked in that direction.

“Don’t move,” she warned, one pistol aimed at his head and the other aimed at Katarina’s.

They both froze, his hand mid-air. Esme stalked closer as Carlisle moved behind them.

“Off the chair,” he commanded. “And putcha hands behind your head.”

They did as they were told and knelt on the ground. Carlisle patted Garrett down and began tying him while Esme came to Katarina’s side. The blonde swallowed tightly. When Carlisle was finished with Garrett, he moved onto her.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her,” Garrett said as he patted, making Esme smile. As if he’d be able to stop them with his hands and feet tied.

“Whadiya take me for?” Carlisle asked. “I don’t hurt women.”

“Mhmm,” Esme agreed, tracing the side of Katarina’s face with the tip of her pistol. “This one’s all mine.”

Garrett helplessly flopped in Esme’s direction from his place on the floor.

“Easy now,” Carlisle said, finishing up with Katarina and moving to crouch down beside him. “I said I wouldn’t hurt your girl, and you repay me by goin’ for mine?”

Garrett stared blankly ahead. Carlisle tilted his chin up with his gun to meet his eyes.

“It wouldn’t be the first time you double-crossed though, would it? There was our Kiev deal, then the small matter of you murderin’ your own pal. Lettin’ his kid grow up without a father. What kinda person does that, huh? Ya know, I might be a lotta things. But I know where my loyalties lie. And I’d never betray a friend. Even people like us have rules, and that’s one of ‘em.”

“You wanna talk about the loyalty of friends?” Katarina piped up, prompting Esme to hold her pistol against her head. “You might want to look closer to your own circle.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Esme asked, her eyes narrowed.

“You haven’t wondered where the others are?” Garrett smiled. “They’re actually in your neck of the woods. Meeting with some of your buddies. Ironic really, isn’t it? You come all the way here hoping to kill Tati, only for her to be in your area.”

Alice gave a “hmm” as Carlisle’s eyes flickered to meet Esme’s, then settled back on Garrett’s face. Neither of them could tell whether or not he was trying to throw them, but both understood not to let him.

“We didn’t come here to kill Tatiana,” Esme said cooly. “Any single one ‘a yous woulda done. Instead we got two. I call that a success.”

“Do you?” Katarina cooed. “I wouldn’t be that confident ‘til all of us are dead. Especially if I had a daughter who didn’t know how to shoot.”

Carlisle felt the colour drain from his face. Esme immediately yanked Katarina down by the hair until her cheek hit the floor, then placed a knee on her back.

“What the fuck does your family know about my daughter?” She growled into her ear. “Tell me everything you know and how you know it.”

“It’s hardly a secret,” Katarina said, the words muffled against yet another Persian rug. “You’ve been paradin’ her — what’s her name, Rose or something? — paradin’ her all around New York and Jersey. Don’t tell me you didn’t think people would notice?”

“I hear she’s real pretty,” Garrett added. “And you know us bunch, we like our blondes.”

With that, Carlisle began relentlessly punching him. Garrett’s groans sounded different to how they had sounded in the hallway. Here, he was getting to know much less loving hands.

Esme pulled at Katarina’s hair again. “Tell me who told you about my daughter.”

“No.”

She shifted so she could better aim for Katarina’s kneecap, then shot it. The blonde let out an agonising scream, which woke Carlisle from his blind rage just long enough to look up and spot a marble urn on the fireplace.

“Tell me who told you about my daughter.”

“Fuck you,” Katarina moaned, writhing in pain.

Carlisle got up and grabbed the urn, dumped whatever ashes were inside into the fire pit, and made his way back to Garrett.

Esme flipped Katarina over and shot her other kneecap. Another ear-piercing scream blocked out the sound of Carlisle beating Garrett with the urn.

“Tell me something. Anything about what or how you know.”

Katarina simply whimpered. Esme pressed her foot against her knee, but the scream that followed was feeble. She would soon pass out from either blood loss or pain.

“You’re not gonna tell me anything?”

Katarina barely shook her head. Esme sighed and shot her between the eyebrows.

Carlisle was sitting still and staring at Garrett when she made her way over to him. “Is he dead?”

He shrugged.

She picked up the urn from the floor and gave Garrett’s body several extra beats to be sure.

“Is now,” Alice said quietly. Neither of them laughed.

Carlisle rubbed at his temple while Esme sat back beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“They know about Rosie,” was all he said.

She nodded.

“Guess there’s no goin’ back now. Even if she wanted to, there’s no way she can go back to the life she had.”

“No,” Esme agreed.

“I get it now,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her.

“Get what?”

“I think...I’m finally worried.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Alice awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Alice, what they said about our friends—” Carlisle started.

“I won’t say anything,” she said before he could finish. They both trusted that. If Alice was a betrayer, they’d already be dead.

“Thanks.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds before standing up. Esme didn’t like seeing him so uneasy. He was her comforter, so if he needed comforting, things weren’t good. But he did need comforting, and as his person, it was her job to do so.

“Alice, could you mute us for a while?” Esme asked as she got to her feet. “And turn off the living room camera? We need a minute.”

Alice hesitated. “Alright. But watch the time, for Rose’s sake. And I’ll mute you, but don’t mute me in case I need to warn you about unexpected visitors elsewhere in the property.”

“Thanks,” Esme said.

“Okay, I can’t see or hear you now. So if you need my attention, go to another room.”

Esme tugged Carlisle’s arm. “Help me move the bodies out of this room. I want it to be just us.”

He looked at her with confusion, but did as she asked.

Rosalie stared at the numbers on her timer. Forty-eight minutes and fifty-three seconds, and still no sign of her parents. Her free hand drummed at the steering wheel the way her fingers had before they left.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she muttered at the windshield. She felt her eyes start to well up and blinked furiously.

“Fine. An hour,” she promised aloud to no one, in attempt to settle herself. “We’ll hang on ‘til it’s been an hour.”

She glanced back at the timer, but a noise made her look up again. There the pair of them were, running towards her, open coats flapping in the wind. She exhaled with relief and started the engine. The headlights lit them up as she drove forward, giving her a full view of them. Both were covered in blood splatters.

“Thank god,” she cried as each of them swung open a door and hopped in the back.

“Hey, Princess,” Carlisle greeted her as she sped off.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Esme chirped. “Thanks for waitin’. Sorry we’re late.”

Rosalie frowned. Her tone was...strange. In the rearview mirror, she found the two of them staring at each other dreamily. Then, she registered Carlisle’s messed hair, and realised it wasn’t a tough fight that had delayed them.

“You assholes!” she seethed. “Do you have any fucking idea what ran through my mind?! I thought you were dead! I thought I was gonna get myself killed waiting around for two people who’d never come, because they were dead!”

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

“That’s it? You scare me into believing you’re dead and all I get is a simple sorry?”

“You were scared for us?” Esme sounded pleased. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

“You’re right,” Carlisle added. “That was selfish. Worry isn’t a nice feelin’. And a simple sorry isn’t all you get for it. We’ll head down Fifth Ave once we’re home if you like.”

She did like the sound of that, but she didn’t want him to think she could be easily won round. “Fine,” she said with a sigh.

“Oh and Rose?” Esme asked.

“Yeah?”

“We’re teaching you to shoot.”

[bitchfitch]

A Pleasant Trip to the Circus

(ie, The statue man and the medusa's meet cute)

no warnings needed

Adonis' eyes had shattered months ago, but he had never needed them to see. They, like every other part of his crafted body, had been more of a decoration than an actual part of him, so it had surprised him how much he missed having them. He didn't miss their weight in his carved sockets or the tackiness of the putty that his creator had used to keep them pointing the right way, but without them his empty eyes seemed to frighten and fascinate those who looked at him in equal measures. They seemed to illicit more stares and stolen looks from strangers than when he had had them.

He didn't wish to be looked at.

When he had his eyes those who passed him on the street might cast a look his way but after seeing his human like eyes they would write off the grey stone and gold guiding that made up most of his skin as makeup. But without them it was painfully obvious that he was not flesh and blood, that his strange silence and stillness was natural and not a performance, that he was not human. 

Some recoiled at the realization, others drew closer, staring at his face and taking pictures with their phones as he held still and waited for them to leave. Some would pull at the fabric of his clothes or at the ribbons of his hair, curious fingers would touch and grope and prod as they tried to puzzle out why a statue as magnificently realistic as this one would have been left here. 

Some recognized him from before he was alive. From when he and his creator had toured the entire continent so that all could marvel at his Pygmalion's work. So that all could marvel at Adonis. 

The ones who recognized him always asked where his eyes went, or where his creator had gone. Some jokingly asked if Adonis had finally divorced the other Mr. Wright. 

Adonis did not respond to any of them. He couldn't speak even if he wanted to, so he just waited. 

He learned to travel at night, to keep his hood up and his head down. He had wanted to see the world Henry had kept him hidden from in the years following his awakening, but he had never considered that maybe many of the things Henry had said were true.

That this was not a world built for hollow stone men. That he was delicate, and trusting others to not try and break him was foolish. 

Still, he explored.

The world was so much bigger than the chateau and the corpse that rotted away at its center, and he needed to know it all. He needed to find a place where he couldn't hear his beloved creator's voice calling for him anymore. 

He found something close on a late summer's day. The scorching heat had chased most of the people into the shade and air-conditioned buildings and away from this circus that was still setting up for its opening night. 

Adonis didn't know what drew him here, didn't know what he was looking for, but something pulled him along as the dry dirt crunched beneath his heel with every step. 

A woman approached him as he neared the gates. She was older, balding, and covered in a sheen of sweat from directing the construction efforts all day, 

"Sorry sir, we're not-" her voice cought in her throat as she looked up to meet his empty eyes, she swallowed hard, taking a step back more on instinct than out of fear, "You- Hello? Are you- Are you still alive in there?" she waved her hand in front of Adonis' face, 

Adonis cocked his head. He couldn't really emote, his face frozen in the same pout that it had been carved into by his beloved, but he wondered if the stranger understood that he was confused by the question. No one had ever questioned if he was alive before, he very clearly had never been.

"Are you here to see her? The medusa? Did she do- Oh she's going to be so happy to know one of you lived!" The woman broke out in a grin as she grabbed his wrist to pull him along towards one of the tents.

He could tell that she was strong, that there was a fair amount of muscle hiding under her loose skin and fat, but he knew that not even some one like her could move him on her own. Yet, he found himself following her, too confused to resist her touch or to use his not insignificant weight to stop them both in their tracks.

She lead him to the back of a small shipping container that had been painted with the circus' name and logo in long faded colors.

Rapping on the door she called out, "Ione! You have a visitor!" 

"I do?" a soft voice called back, the entire truck the crate sat on shifted as something moved inside of it, "Who is it?" 

"He Hasnt told me his name yet, but he looks like he might be someone you'd know," the woman grinned at him while the door swung open, letting out a wave of air barely cooler than the surrounding heat as it did so,

Adonis had never taken a breath in all his years of existence, but this must be what it felt like to lose it. 

The woman in shipping container, Ione, was stunning in ways Adonis would never be able to put to words even if he could speak or write them all out one by one. 

She had the torso of a sturdy looking human woman with all the muscle and soft fat that that would imply, but instead of legs she had a long, thick snakes body trailing out into the darkness of the container behind her. Her crane like neck lead to a narrow and finely scaled vipers head that itself had a long thick tail emerging from a writhing mass of black snakes that almost looked like hair or an oil spill. Her dress was boxy and sleevless, and it showed off the defined muscles that were barely softened by the shimmer of her cremy white, or rich brown and pitch black scales. The fabric was finely beaded in intricate swooping patterns and it made such a satisfying clicking noise with her every movement as she leaned out of the back of this cargo container. 

Though she wore a thick black cloth tied around her face, covering her eyes completely as well as much of her snout, Adonis would guess those were equally enrapturing. She was completely unlike anything he had ever seen before. Large and powerfully despite the grace that flowed through her every rolling movement and stunning besides the her fearsome size.

He wondered if this is what all of those speechless mueseum goers had felt looking at him on his pedestal, though he doubted his creator could have ever made anything as divinely beautiful as this woman.

"Hello?" " she asked, her voice even prettier when not muffled by the metall walls, 

"Go on then, introduce yourself," the woman grinned, gesturing to Ione

Adonis waved lamely, though he doubted she could see the motion past her veil. He turned to the woman and tapped his fingers against his carved lips before drawing an ex over his throat in am attempt to convey his muteness.

The woman sucked in a breath as she realized her error but Ione spoke up first, "I can tell there's something here," she gestured to him, "But I don't get this joke Melanie, what is it, and why are you saying its here to see me?" 

Adonis tried not to wince at being referred to as an 'it' he knew she probably meant nothing by it, but it still hearkened back to some memories that were better left alone. 

"I don't think he can talk, but he's a statue. The same grey marble the things you turn to stone become, but he's fully animate, like he walked up to the gates on his own and everything," she gently grabs one of Ione's massive hands and tugs it towards Adonis, "Just feel his hand and that will be all the proof you need," 

Adonis hesitated for a moment as Ione's face drew tight at being man handled by Melanie,  but after quick head jerk from the older woman, Adonis did as she wanted, and took Ione's hand in his. It was mockery of a handshake, as Melanie pulled hers away. 

Ione's scales were softer than Adonis had expected them to be, like velvet or a well worn blanket instead of plastic or glass, as she carefully felt the sun warmed stone of his hand. He wondered if his smooth carving felt rough to her, if the natural texture of the rock he'd been carved from was as nice for her as her softness was for him. 

"You... are," she said softly, sadness and amazement tangling in her voice, "Did I do this to you?" 

He shook his head and gestured for Melanie to speak up for him, 

"He's shaking his head no," Melanie said, "Wait, then what happened to make you like that?" 

"Hush Melanie, he doesn't have to tell us if he doesn't want to, and besides that, I think the fact that he can't talk might make a question like that a little difficult to answer," 

"I'm sure he has a way to communicate," she huffs, "Like a pen or paper? Or Oh! Simone's little sister is deaf, so she probably knows sign, I can go get her!" Melanie had almost already ran off before Adonis caught her by the shoulder, he didn't hold her hard but still she was jolted to a stop, "Shit, you're a strong one aren't you? What's up?" 

"He stopped you from going to go get Simone?" Ione sighed, "Sir, do you even know sign?" 

Adonis shrugs and shakes his head, then he mimes out writing and shakes his head again, 

"He doesn't, and going by that second little bit of charades I don't think he can write either," Melanie scratches her chin, "Say, Stones, do you have anywhere to go?"

Adonis cocks his head and waits for her to continue, 

"Like, you came here for a reason, and given I don't think you you were looking for Ione here, maybe you were after a job? Like if you are, I think I have the perfect place for a piece of work like you," 

He shrugged again as he finally pulled his hand from Ione's, he had no need for a job, but he already felt more comfortable here than he had almost anywhere else. Melanie was a bit intense, but she didn't stare or treat him as inanimate, and the two women had already put more effort into trying communicate with him than almost anyone else ever had. So, he wasn't apposed to sticking around depending on what Melanie had to offer. 

"She probably wants you to be part of the freak show," Ione said flatly,

"The Oddities and The Beauties, Not the freak show," Melanie exclaimed, "Ignore her, Stones, we aren't that out dated around here. I promise you would be treated with the upmost respect," 

"Are we really calling him 'Stones'? He probably has a name already," Ione slithered out of her container, all 30 or so feet of her coiling out onto the grass as she closed the door to her container. He scales shimmered in the sunlight so brightly that Adonis was almost too distracted by the spectacle to continue listening to Melanie.

"Until we find a way for him to tell us his name, he's Stones," Melanie nodded, "But again, Stones, I promise you you will not regret tagging along with us. We travel all over the country  seeing everything there is to see while putting on good family friendly shows that have entertained millions! You have Got to at least stick with us through this stop so you can get an idea of what the experience is like!" she sticks out a hand, "Are you in?" 

"You haven't even told him what he would be doing," Ione said, 

Though Ione is right, Adonis doesn't hesitate to shake Melanie's hand.

"Wonderful! Ione, give him a tour while I go get things set up for tonight, you two are going to be the talk of the town before we leave it!" She runs off with a wild smile on her face before either of them can stop her. 

"I'm... sorry about her, She gets excited." Ione huffs fondly, "But come on then, I'll try and fill you in on everything she missed," 

[yuusa]

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟐𝟐

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟑𝟖𝟏

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟐𝟐:

You stirred in your sleep, cracking your eyes open and seeing the window curtains drawn back with the light peeking through. As you tried to sit up, you felt a weight on your stomach and looked down, seeing Yuki’s head resting on your body with a peaceful look. You smiled at the sight and brushed back his hair, feeling his soft locks untangle underneath your fingers as he breathed quietly. He looked very cute when he was sleeping. 

You didn’t remember much from yesterday, but you did remember holding onto something in your sleep. As you stared down at Yuki you wondered if he stayed here all night, you thought that his family would have wanted him to go home once he dropped off your homework. He was still wearing his school uniform, you could feel yourself feeling guilty for making him stay here with you without spare clothes to wear. It must have been uncomfortable sleeping in his uniform. 

You turned over your phone, seeing the clock being early in the morning. You reached out to touch your forehead, your temperature has gone down by a lot but you still felt slightly woozy. It wasn’t too bad though, you should be able to attend classes as long as you kept a certain distance from everyone. 

You pressed your lips together in a frown, Yuki must have done a lot for you to help bring your temperature down. As you continued to brush his hair you noticed that his fingers would flinch now and then, almost as if he was unconsciously responding to your touches in his sleeping form. 

“. . . Did you really have to do all of these things for me. . .” You whispered, thinking that this might be the one chance to say something that he may not be able to hear, “. . . You didn’t have to stay with me.”

There was comfort in knowing that he wasn’t directly listening to you, “. . . Even though we don’t know anything about each other. . . Is it fine for me to think that I could help you? Is that selfish of me?” Your whispers continued as you brushed his hair slowly. 

“Am I really the right person for this? Is it wrong to think that. . . I feel like I’m wanted here?” You peered over to stare at the two erasers that Aikyo had given to you with your first meeting, the clean utensils leaning against each other, “. . . Am I. . . Protecting you? Or am I just making everything worse?” 

“. . . I’m jealous. I’m. . . Really jealous,” you admitted, biting on the bottom of your lip as your eyes began to tear up, “. . . Everyone looks so happy without me. . .”

You toyed with the grey strands of his hair, his calm breathing being the only thing you heard aside from your own voice, “. . . If I wasn’t wanted. . . Why would I be now?” You felt your tears drip from your face and down to the soft sheets of your comforter, “. . . If I wasn’t born this way. . . Would everything be better?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, the tiny weights of your tears continuing to flow down your cheeks as you held back your sobs. Small hiccups escaped from the cracks of your lips, your chest feeling heavy and your heart aching, “. . . I don’t know what to do. . .” 

“Do you really feel that way?”

The feeling of someone’s cold fingers brushing your tears away came to you, you unconsciously leaned into their touch as you snapped your eyes open to see Yuki staring at you with a concerned expression. 

“W-Were you listening?” You held onto his wrist, keeping him there as you tried to hold back your cries. 

“Do you really think that we wouldn’t want you?” He asked, pushing away the tears from your face as your (e/c) eyes widened, “that’s not true (L/n)-san.” 

“. . . How would you know that?” You tried to turn away from his eyes but his hand kept you still. 

“You’ve always been welcomed, I’m sorry that you didn’t feel that way, but I’m being honest with you,” you sniffled as he continued, “it’s okay to be confused. You’re trying something new and it takes practice doesn’t it?” 

“I’ve been thinking. . .” Yuki started, leaning closer to you as you felt pinned down by his gaze, “. . . You are looking for something too.” 

“What do you mean. . .?” You softly asked. 

“I learned that. . . It’s hard to love yourself when all you see is the worst parts. . . So you need someone else to love you for you to see your own worth,” you watched as he smiled at you, his shining prince-like figure radiating with positivity, “I think you’re looking for that person too.” 

“Y-You’re not making any sense,” you sniffled, feeling his hand trail up to your head as he brushed your tangled strands.

“(L/n)-san, you don’t need to feel burdened.” He replied, your tears coming to a stop as you stared into his grey-blue orbs. 

“I-I’m not burdened.” You said, pushing his hand away from you but he only smiled. 

“You shouldn’t deny it.” His finger ‘booped’ the tip of your nose, “you look cuter when you’re not crying.” 

“W-Wha. . . I’m not!” 

“You are.” 

Your face began to glow a bright shade as you pulled your blanket over your head, causing Yuki to yelp as you surrounded yourself in a dark nest. You held onto the edges of the blanket tightly for dear life as you heard him chuckle. 

“G-Go to school already! You’re late aren’t you?” You felt Yuki’s hands pull at the sheets, trying to free you from your comfortable prison, “l-let go! Sohma-san let go!” You whined. 

“I could always skip out and say I got sick because of you.” He teased, pulling the sheets off of your head to expose your blushing face. 

“You’re throwing me under the bus?!”

“Yup.”

“B-But your attendance! You have committee work don’t you?!” 

“I could worry about that later.” He sneakily rolled you up into a blanket burrito, completely encaging you in the warm blankets as you struggled to break free.

“S-Sohma-san!” 

You paused as you watched him laugh at your form, the sound of his voice being so joyous made your heart feel warm. Even though the two of you had never bickered like this before, or even have in the first place, it didn’t hurt at all. Is this what it was like to have a friendly argument? You thought. 

It felt. . . Weird. 

“S-Sorry, it’s just-“ He continued to laugh, “y-you look like. . . Birds when they. . . Get weighted!” 

You silently thought for a while as to what he meant but quickly realized that he was referring to you like a burrito bird. It's when you wrap up the bird in a towel or blanket for them to get weighed when they visit the vet. 

In other words. . . He was teasing you!

“I-I’m not! Take that back!” You cried out, trying to escape from the wrappings but Yuki placed his weight onto the folds of the blanket. 

“Nope.” 

“Y-You’re. . . Insufferable.” You tried to turn your head away from Yuki to look more intimidating but he was finding it hard to take you seriously when you’re bundled up in your sheets. He gave you an innocent smile as if to tease you about the predicament you were trapped in. 

“Why are you so strong?” You mumbled, feeling your strands of hair falling in front of your face, but you were unable to push it back. 

“I practiced martial arts as a kid.” He replied. 

“. . . I see. . . Your cousin said that as well. . .” You saw his smile slowly crack to a saddened frown as he stared at you. 

“. . . Do you not like it?” You asked, wiggling your arms out until you finally broke free of your restraints. You watched him cross his arms over on your sheets as he laid his head down, his gloomy expression still present on his face as his bangs shrouded the heavy emotions from his eyes. 

“I wouldn’t say like. . . I didn’t find any enjoyment in it.” 

He winced at the painful memory, ones that had resurfaced into the conversation. Although he has learned enough to beat Kyo with ease, Yuki never found himself passionate about the sport as much as he was. He never really had any sparring partners unlike Kyo, who had Hatsuhara fight with him while he watched from the sidelines. He still remembers the way Akito wrapped his hands around his head, the darkness enveloping him as the sound of her voice echoed in his mind. It sent shivers down his spine every time he is reminded by the sound of her laughter. 

You reached out to pull back his bangs, finally seeing his full saddened expression that he tried to hide from you. He didn’t know why, but having you be able to touch him like this made him feel lighter. There was something about the warmth of your hand against his cold skin that made him feel comforted. 

“It must have been hard,” You spoke up, feeling Yuki caress the palm of your hand with his fingers, “. . . I never really practiced martial arts but. . . It looks like it makes you sad.” 

“Is that so. . .” He pressed his lips together, “(L/n)-san, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure?” You felt him intertwine his fingers with you, shocking you internally. 

“Do you think that I will leave you?” 

You drew circles with the tip of your thumb on his hand, “. . . I don’t know. You might.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Because. . .” Was it right for you to say the truth? You peered down at his eyes to see them filled to the brim with sincerity and kindness, his grey-blue orbs giving you his entire attention while he grasped onto your hand. You weighed down your options, trying to figure out what was the right words to say and the ones you should avoid. 

“. . . You wouldn’t like me anymore,” You mumbled, “I’m. . . Nothing like you think I am.” 

“That isn’t true (L/n)-san,” he started, “from the way I see things, I think the truest form of yourself is right in front of me.” 

“Y-You’re just saying things that don’t make sense.” You retorted, biting the bottom of your lips, “you don’t know that.” 

“I believe in it though,” he smiled, “you rarely cry in front of others, but it seems like I’m the only one who saw you like this, right?” He squeezed your hand softly, “you’re showing me a side that no one else sees.”

“You’re crying.” You pulled yourself away from him in shock, trying to cover your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” You apologized, sniffling underneath your hand as you turned away from him.

“Don’t apologize, what’s wrong?”

“I. . .” You choked on a sob, trying to keep quiet in the theater while the movie drowned out the noises of your tears. You didn’t know if you could trust Akito fully, but there was something about the look he gave you which made you feel wanted.

"Does that mean I'm special to you?" He leaned forward to press his forehead against yours, the feeling of his warm breath just mere inches above your lips. Was he teasing you again with this? 

". . . You were already someone special." You whispered, pulling away and covering your face with your hands. At the same time, he leaned back and gave you another smile. 

"That makes me happy to hear." 

". . . You should still go to class." You suggested, dropping your hands and clutching onto the edges of your blanket, "I kept you here enough, you should go."

Your heart began to ache at the memory of Akito. You couldn't help but feel guilty about Yuki, out of all times that your memories could have resurfaced, it had to be today. 

"Eager for me to leave?" He teased. 

You grabbed onto your pillow and lightly smacked him with the soft material, "t-that's not that I'm implying! Go to school!"

"I told you that I'll be skipping today, just say that you got me sick. . ." He caught your pillow before you could hit him a second time. 

"Y-You can't!"

"Why not?"

"B-Because you stayed here long enough, don't you think Shigure-san will get mad?" The two of you blankly stared at each other until Yuki fumbled over to the table to pick up his phone. 

There were several calls from Shigure that he ignored while he fell asleep, and other messages from Tohru asking when he would be coming home. There was one message from Kyo but it was garbled nonsense that he must have been forced to type up to bring Yuki back home. You yawned while he sighed as he turned to you, "is it fine if I take a call with Shigure-san?"

"Sure, I'm going to wash my face and shower." You decided to take a shower, if you spent too long in the bath it would be awkward for Yuki who is waiting for you to finish.

You yawned and slipped out of bed, making your way to the bathroom with slight difficulty. Once you had left the comfort of your bed, your head became lightheaded and your eyes began to see some static, however, you found this normal in your human body due to your blood pressure. Yuki waited for the door to close before opening a call with Shigure, his phone rang for a few seconds until he heard him on the other side of the line. 

"Yuki-kun! Where were you last night? Tohru-kun told us that you were at (Y/n)-kun's house, did you stay over there? Did you sleep with her? You naughty boy!" 

"If you don't shut up I will hurt you," Yuki groaned, "I'm fine, did I cause that much worry for everyone in the house?"

"Nope, no one missed you!"

"Shigure. . ." He turned to the door of the bathroom, still seeing that you were inside. He heard the water of your shower turn on and he brought his phone closer to his ear as he leaned his back against your bed. 

"Just kidding! Tohru was getting worried that you might stay over at her house without a clean pair of clothes, but it was already too late for her to start walking over to (Y/n)-kuns house! Speaking of (Y/n)-kun, is she recovering from her sickness?" Shigure corrected, his laugh erupting from his lips. 

"She's fine, I think her temperature gone down," Yuki responded, "she might be feeling a bit woozy though, she was wobbling to the bathroom."

Shigure hummed, "the school called, are the two of you going?" 

"Er. . . Not today." 

"So you're skipping for a girl?" 

"Tease me again and I will end this call," Yuki mumbled, "be serious here Shigure. And no, (L/n)-san actually got me sick so I will be staying over for a bit longer." His lips curved into a small smirk, this was unplanned for you but this was a great way for him to actually get to talk to you more without the restraints of the public. 

Shigure laughed, "my bad. . . I was just thinking that you have been coming over to her house a lot, I was wondering if the two of you were something else?" 

The door to the bathroom opened up, your hair still soaking wet as you came out with a towel around your head to dry your (h/c) strands. Small droplets of water dribbled down your chin as you continued to brush your hair with the fluffy material. You were wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, due to your exhaustion your body was still slightly wet so your clothes stuck to your skin. You walked over to the kitchen, leaving the towel on your neck as you went for a drink of water for your dry throat. Yuki awkwardly gawked at you for a few seconds before hanging up on Shigure without answering him back. 

"What did Shigure-san say?" You leaned up against the counter with a bottle of water to your lips.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, "he kept joking with me. The school called for both of us but you got me sick." 

"Did you actually say that?!" You almost spat out your drink.

"Yeah," he brushed back his long strands of hair. 

". . . I see," you replied, staring down at your water bottle and watching the small ripples form in the clear liquid. 

Something about the way he talked about martial arts earlier made you feel as if there was something underneath the surface of his family. It seems as if nearly everyone practiced it at a young age, was it a requirement or simply a sport that was forced upon them? Kyo seemed to enjoy it greatly, but Yuki looks as if he is disgusted by it. 

. . . You would be too. 

“God. . . Please accept this gift and finally release this spirit.” You dug your nails into your hand before getting to your feet, you reeled your hand back and punched her in the face, her screams echoing in the room as you heard her skull hit the wall. She released an anguished cry while you picked up the bowl of fruit, smashing the ceramic by throwing it onto the floor. The shards covering the wooden surface and cutting parts of your skin.

You hate this feeling.

You grit your teeth and clenched your fist tightly, your eyes glaring down at her in anger. You picked up the broken bowl, the longest shard being held in your hand as you kneeled next to her. The altar of God watching over you, looming over your childish figure as you raised the shard above your head.

You hate this desire.

Yuki heard the sound of plastic crackling and the explosion of water, watching as your fist tightened around the body of the bottle as droplets of liquid fell from your cheeks. Your nails pierced the bottle before lifelessly dropping it onto the ground, the crumpling of the plastic hitting the wooden ground as water continued to drop from your face.

"(L/n)-san. . ." Yuki quickly got off of the floor and took your towel, wiping away the water that drenched you, "what's going on?" 

You gasped before flinching at Yuki's gentle touches, you instinctively slapped his hand away, the towel falling onto the ground with a small splat as you stared at him silently. 

"W-What are you doing?" You asked. 

He tilted his head towards you in confusion, "you. . . spilled water over yourself." 

"I. . . Sorry." You apologized, crouching down to pick up the water bottle and towel from the ground, feeling Yuki's stare linger on your figure as you straightened yourself.

You were stupid.

This was a mistake on your own part, getting lost in your thoughts and forgetting about your own surroundings. Yuki is going to question everything and you wouldn’t be able to have an answer for them all. You dumped the bottle into the recycling trash bag, pausing for a few seconds before awkwardly going back to sit on your bed, your body still wet from the water bottle and shower. 

"Is. . . Is there something bothering you?" Yuki sat down next to you, the weight of the bed shifting to accompany the two of you. 

You fiddled with the edges of your fingers, ". . . I was just wondering. . . Why do you hate martial arts?" You lied.

“I don’t hate it,” Yuki pressed his lips together in a frown as he tightened his fist around your blanket, “it doesn’t bring back good memories, that's all.” 

“I see.” 

“Is that what was bothering you?” 

Of course, he wouldn’t have positive memories of martial arts. It was just another thing the two of you shared in common. Although you felt your reasoning was slightly selfish and self-destructive, it was for the sake of everyone else that you care deeply about. 

You would rather die than hurt anyone the same way you did in the past. 

You stared at him before giving him a small smile. There certainly was something you could continue trying to do though.

“No, I'm fine,” You spoke up, “but. . . Sohma-san. . .” 

You reached out to touch his hand, bringing it close to your lips as you held them there, “I think that you’re really amazing.” 

You wanted to free him from his own burdens, even if it meant pushing your own self away from his worries. 

[vintagedolan]

mixtape - track eleven

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

I was hiding from myself too. I was hiding from the part of my brain that was like ‘what are you gonna do now?’. Like, there’s a part of your brain that does thrive off of feeling like shit.

The voice shifted, just for a moment. 

Yea-

It was a tiny sound in the back, from behind the camera. It didn’t even form a full word before Ethan continued talking, but Indy flinched anyway. It was always worse when she was unprepared for it. 

In her distraction, she’d streaked her concealer too far past her eye and sighed, using her finger to pat it in, ignoring the way it splotched. It probably wasn’t the right shade, and it was definitely expired, but it was enough for her to look like maybe she had slept in the last two weeks. 

She hadn’t. Not really. Every time she closed her eyes, even to blink, he was there. Sometimes, she welcomed it. But in that moment, standing in her mirror in her scrubs, she didn’t want to see his face. She didn’t want to hear his voice. Because she had to keep it together for 16 hours. 12 hours at the hospital on the peds floor, and another 4 at her shift at Jet’s afterward. So she kept her eyes open, took a deep breath, and walked out of her bathroom.

On the other side of the country, Grayson’s eyes were closed.

He wasn’t sleeping. It was 4 in the afternoon, which was the earliest time he could consider himself done with work for the day and escape to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. It only got down to the high forties in LA, even in January, but he climbed under his comforter anyways, pulled his baby blanket up by his face. 

Time seemed to crawl by while he lay there alone. He rolled to his side, pulling his pillow down to wrap his arms around it, and when he opened his eyes, he wished he hadn’t. On his nightstand, turned towards him, was the frame that Indy had gotten him for Christmas. He wished she hadn’t curled up so much when he’d taken it. He wished he could see her face more in the glossy material, wished she had given him a picture of just her instead. When he squeezed his eyes shut again he could see her face better, every feature committed to memory. So he looked. He focused on the different shades of blue in her eyes and pretended like she was in class, and that he was on her couch waiting for her to come home. 

A knock sounded on his door, and his heart tightened. 

Ethan stepped in the room with a bag of Monty’s and a hopeful smile. 

Grayson didn’t move.

“I brought you dinner.”

Nothing.

Ethan sighed, dropping the act. He was giving up on it earlier and earlier these days.

“Bro, you’ve gotta eat. You didn’t eat lunch.”

“Not hungry.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, tough shit then, cause I’m not leaving you alone until you eat at least some of this.” 

Grayson knew his brother, better than he knew himself sometimes, and he could tell by his tone that he was serious. He didn’t have the energy for a fight, and despite himself, his stomach growled at the smell of the fries in the bag, salty and warm. So he sat up begrudgingly and let Ethan pass him the bag, pretending not to see how his shoulders slumped in relief. 

He didn’t have to ask why Ethan stayed. It was to make sure he didn’t sit the bag down as soon as he closed the door behind him. So he waited, and he watched his brother eat his burger slower than usual, fighting to chew it and force it down.

“Where’s yours?” He asked eventually - he knew better than to think that Ethan hadn’t gotten himself a burger. 

“I uh… I ate with Eden.”

Grayson stopped chewing. His question was blatant in his eyes, and he waited for the answer.

“No, I didn’t fucking tell her,” Ethan grumbled, running his hand over his face. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m fucking lying to her.”

“Did she ask about… her?” He caught himself. He hadn’t said her name since they left New York. 

“Not yet. She knows something is up with you though, and if she starts asking questions I’m telling her.”

“No.” It wasn’t a plea. It was a demand. 

“Grayson. She’s gonna find out eventually, I gotta tell her.”

“No. Twin code.”

“Don’t pull that shit man, c’mon, we aren’t six anymore. That’s my wife, and she’s gonna be pissed as fuck at me. If you don’t tell her, I’m gonna have to.”

Grayson stayed quiet and put the rest of his burger back in the bag, his small appetite fading to nausea at the thought of having to admit to anyone else what he had done. He hadn’t had to explain it yet - Ethan knew enough to put the pieces together, and he had enough heart to stay quiet on the plane, just passing over his napkin from his drink as an extra tissue while Grayson looked out the window and cried quietly. But he wasn’t going to tell Eden - he wasn’t ready for that.

Ethan sighed. “I’m just saying Gray, she’s gonna start asking me questions, and I’m not gonna lie to her, that’s not me. That’s not either of us.” He paused, hoping for a response he knew he wasn’t going to get. “Whatever. We have a meeting at 10 tomorrow.”

Ethan left the room in silence, and Grayson closed his eyes.

Indy’s struggled to keep hers open. It was almost 4 am the worst hours of her shift. She poured another cup of coffee from the nurses’ lounge, ignoring the fact that it was burnt as she sipped it down and willed herself to wake up. Part of her wished it was iced - warm drinks made her sleepy, and worse, reminded her of cold New Jersey mornings that she couldn’t afford to think of. Just the idea of reminiscing made her chest tighten enough for her to suck in a breath and start to search for a distraction. She read the schedule instead, checking to see what tech would replace her come 7 am. She still had two vital checks to do on each patient, opting to do them on the even hours. Her head tipped back as she drained the rest of her cup and tossed it in the trash, needing to keep her mind busy.

It wasn’t her job - only nurses could distribute meds, but she could prep the trays for the kids to make their lives easier. So she moved to the med cart and started to look through. 

“Adams, Adrian, Bellon, Campbell, Cortez, Jenkins, Kimp, Lopez, Mullins, Norton.” Her fingers stopped for a moment as she traced down the last names on the cart, mumbling them out. No Newcomb. She double-checked. Nothing.

Bekah didn’t have a tray. 

Indy’s heart sped up a bit, and she waited until she saw Ayria, one of the night shift nurses, coming out of a room.

“Hey, do you need me to get Newcomb a tray? Hers isn’t on here.” It felt weird to refer to Bekah by her last name, but she didn’t want to seem unprofessional.

Ayria frowned, coming to log into the computer on the med cart and check the charts. 

“Oh yeah, everything she’s getting is IV right now, no pills.”

Indy took a breath and steadied herself, glad to see that the clock had turned and she was able to make her rounds. She’d become an expert at taking vitals without waking the kids up - even some of the more seasoned nurses were impressed.

But she could never get past Beks.

The first day, during Indy’s orientation, Bekah could tell something was wrong. It was only three days after Grayson had left after all. Indiana knew that the floor needed a tech, and she knew they’d take her as soon as she asked. She also knew that if she let herself stay at home that she’d never leave it again. So she went and bought the cheapest scrubs she could find and mustered up enough energy to show up. 

She didn’t really need Ayria to show her around that day. She knew the unit inside and out from her time as a volunteer; she just needed the codes for the supply rooms and a list of her tasks for her 12-hour shift. But she was glad that they were together when they went into Bekah’s room because Bekah was kind enough not to say anything with someone else there. Now, she didn’t hold back.

“You look like shit,” she said as soon as Indy walked in.

“It’s 4 am, you should be asleep,” Indy countered with a smirk. The incident on Christmas was forgiven without a second thought, and she was relieved to be back to their normal banter as she put her blood pressure cuff on. 

“You should be asleep. This is your last shift of the week though.”

“Says who?”

“You’ve been here three days already, that’s the max you can work without overtime.” 

Indy kept quiet and wrote down her blood pressure in the chart. 

“Are you okay?” Bekah asked quietly, and Indy sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop the tears flooding her eyes.

“I’m fine Beks. Promise.”

Bekah contemplated if she should say it.

“Is it Grayson?”

Indy’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands shook as she held up the thermometer, and she had to blink hard to be able to read the numbers and scribble them down. 

Bekah took her silence as an answer. 

“Sorry. I know it must be hard, having him so far away,” she murmured. Indy couldn’t find her voice to tell her that it was okay. She fiddled with her blankets, tucking her in nicely and dimming her lights down to give her time to clear the knot in her throat.

“Get some sleep Beks.”

She held it together until she got outside her room, and then the tears escaped. As quickly as she could, she ducked her head and beelined for the nurses’ desk, using her oldest trick of drinking water to keep herself from fully breaking down. 

Valentina sat at her desk and watched with a frown, but she didn’t say anything. 

Indy gave herself one minute, and then she took a deep breath and got back to work. 

Time crawled, and she cursed herself for not leaving enough things to keep her busy for the rest of her shift. By 6 am, she’d resorted to cleaning the tables in the break room and reorganizing supplies in the supply closet to keep herself occupied. She knew the day shift nurses would appreciate the extra effort - they always sung her praises, thrilled to work a shift after her considering how well she set it up for them. 

Valentina came into the supply closet at 6:30.

“You might just work our daytime tech out of a job,” she said, making Indy jump and drop the bandages she was restocking.

“You scared me,” she said, catching her breath. “Just restocking.”

“You work too hard,” Valentina shook her head, crossing her arms. “You’re gonna burn yourself out sweetheart, and we need you around here.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“You act like I don’t know you’re going to your other job right after this.”

“They give me good coffee there, what can I say,” Indy teased, but when she looked Valentina’s eyes were sad. “I like to keep busy.” 

“Too busy,” she tsked. “You leave at 6:50 today.”

“Valentina-”

“Keep talking and I’ll make it 6:40,” she threatened. “And you get some sleep later, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Indy conceded, knowing it wasn’t an argument she could win. Nurses weren’t the type to lose an argument, and she’d never met a more nurse-y nurse than Valentina. She finished stocking quickly, gathering her bags and double-checking she’d finished everything before she headed out, waving goodbye to the nurses she saw. 

She was distracted on her way out, and she didn’t think when she hit the button to get into the next hallway. 

For two weeks, she prepped. Mentally paused and thought of all the things that could hit her out of the blue, make her come unraveled. She was ready, for the couples in the street holding hands, for the husbands coming to walk their wives home from work, the high schoolers on hot chocolate dates in the big city. But it was always the small things that got her. 

She hadn’t prepared herself, and her eyes automatically went to the walls when she cleared the doors. The ocean mural. The jellyfish, the sea turtle on the wall that Grayson had said looked like Ethan once. It hit her like a ton of bricks, her chest so tight that she reached up to press on it as she heard his voice in her head. It made her feel pathetic, the way she had to stop and grab onto the rail in the hall and steady herself for a moment. She counted her breaths, trying her hardest to shut her mind off, staring at the blue of the walls as she willed herself to be okay, just for another day.

Grayson was staring at the water. Or at least, he was trying to. The moon wasn’t very bright, but it reflected enough off the ocean for him to get a sense of which way the sun would come up. The whole surface was washed black by the night sky, and it was peaceful. He wanted to swim in it. He wanted to sink beneath it and find that blissful quiet you could only find underwater. 

He’d fallen asleep soon after Ethan had left him alone, which meant he found himself wide awake at 4 am, body tired of being asleep. Sitting in bed would only make things worse, so he sent Ethan a quick text and headed off in the Porsche towards the secret beach. There was no one else there so early in the morning, and he was grateful. It gave him the peace of mind to curl in on himself, let the tears flow freely as the waves lapped at the shore, returning over and over. 

Time ran away from him in the dark. His tears ceased eventually, dried themselves out as he sat in his misery. He didn’t fight it. Instead, he let it wash over him, sink into every pore and weigh him down, wishing he could somehow disappear into the sand as the sun started to rise and wash the world in light orange. His phone buzzed, no doubt a text from his brother. He elected to ignore it, keeping his eyes on the water, counting the waves as they came in. It was admirable, the dedication they showed; returning every time they got sucked back out. 

At some point, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he sighed, pulling his hood up over his head in a feeble attempt to hide himself from whoever was watching him. He stood up and brushed the sand off himself, ducking his head down and jogging straight back to his car, hoping whoever it was wasn’t trying to come up to him. 

As soon as he ducked into his car and pulled the door shut, he sunk down, resting his forehead against his steering wheel. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, smacking his dashboard. His radio turned on with a jolt, connected to his phone and automatically starting his playlist. Cudi blared through the speakers and he groaned, hitting all the wrong buttons in an attempt to get it to turn off.

“Stop, fucking stop!” In a last attempt he chucked his phone across the car, watched it ricochet off the dash and down into the floorboard. He threw his car into reverse with blurry eyes, desperate to get away from anyone who might have a camera. He was paranoid the whole drive home that someone was watching, eyes darting to the windows of any car he ended up next to at a stoplight. It wasn’t until he got the gate closed behind him and he was in the house that he felt like he could breathe again. With Ethan still asleep down the hall, he choked back his sobs as he sat down at the counter, face in his hands. 

Indy was taking deep breaths behind the counter as the line started to pile up at Jet’s. She looked to her right, frowning at the stress on her new coworker, Mariposa’s, face as the cups continued to line up next to her. 

“Hey Posie,” she called over between customers. “Do you wanna switch?”

“God yes,” she exclaimed, rushing to take Indy’s place at the register so she could move over to the bar. 

Indiana preferred it that way. She didn’t have to smile for a latte, she just had to pour it and try not to burn her fingers and move on to the next. It had come back like second nature to her, and she liked the fast pace. It gave less time for her to think, and she welcomed the numbing repetition. She kept an ear piqued towards the register, listening to the orders coming in so she could get ahead. The next one came from a taller man, his face hidden behind a coat.

“Just give me the biggest cup of the strongest stuff you’ve got.”

Indy dropped her cup, a half poured latte splattering all over her hands first, down her apron, then the bottom of her jeans and onto her shoes. It only took one look over at the man to realize it wasn’t Grayson, and she deflated. 

“Shit,” she hissed, flicking her hands in an attempt to chill the burn that was already searing on her skin. She side-stepped to the sink, flipping the cold water on and letting it flow over her hands. It stung even more, and she sighed at the bright red of her skin. She’d had enough burns from her time as a barista to know that it would blister. 

“Indiana, you okay?” Patrick called from the ovens, moving a line of pastries in and out.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

He frowned, but kept quiet, letting her get back into the groove of making drinks. Indy could feel him watching her, the familiar weight of a protective eye over her shoulder. At least he was kind enough to wait until her shift was over before he tried to talk to her again.

“Hey, how’s your hand?” 

Indy looked down and sighed at the sight of her red skin, resisting the urge to rub it. Instead, she moved to the first aid kit and grabbed a wrap bandage. 

“It’s been better, but I’ll survive.”

“Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow,” Patrick suggested as casually as he could. “You know, to rest your hand.”

Indy scoffed.

“It’s not gonna fall off Patrick, I’m fine.”

He sighed. “Fine, if you’re gonna make me say it then I will. You’re a hard worker, one of the best we have, but you’re exhausted. We can all see it, and you don’t need to burn yourself out like this for a minimum wage job. So, you’re off tomorrow. No exceptions.”

“But-”

“No. Exceptions.” 

Her anger bubbled up in her like the blister forming on her thumb, but she knew it wasn’t Patrick’s fault. He was right - she was just upset at the idea of having an entire day with nothing to distract her. An empty apartment had never seemed so daunting, and it was all she could think about as she clocked out, got her things together, and walked home.

It was quieter than she’d imagined when she got through the door, the click of the latch echoing through the still space. She thought of turning on music, but that only made her think of Grayson, singing off-key next to her in the truck. She could put on a movie, but it would make her think of cuddling with him on the couch. Her bed was where he had been so many nights. He’d cooked in her kitchen, he’d helped her move furniture in the guest room. 

She couldn’t escape him, no matter where she went. And so, as pathetic as she felt doing it, she sunk down right there on the floor, and she let the misery have her. It came in broken sobs that caught on her throat on the way out, too loud even for her own ears as she tried to imagine a day where she didn’t feel like the world was crumbling around her. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there. But eventually, the things no one ever talked about started to happen. Her butt went numb, and her head started to hurt, and her lips got dry from the saltwater that ran over them. None of that mattered though. What finally got her up from the cold floor was the fact that she was sticky - remnants of the vanilla syrup in the latte that she’d dropped finally congealing and making her feel more disgusting than the tears. She peeled herself up off the floor and headed to her bathroom.

Grayson was in the shower, with his head down, water splashing over his back and bouncing off his shoulders - a statue in the rain. It was the best place to avoid getting on his phone, considering he couldn’t, and that was the only way he could trust himself to not get on twitter and see the aftermath of the morning.

He wondered for a moment what he looked like from outside the glass shower door, standing there with his razor up by his chest. The blades clogged with the long hairs he shaved from his chest, leaving him bare and smoother than he’d been in months. He sat the razor down and moved to pick up a clear bottle from the shelf. Polis was scribbled on it in sharpie in Ethan’s handwriting, remnants of a Wakeheart meeting. Grayson could remember how excited he was to pitch the idea, even if it was over zoom. 

“I finally came up with the third body wash scent. Vanilla, with a hint of coffee and then a little bit of sandalwood to keep it professional and put together.” 

He’d had to whisper it - Indy was asleep in her room, the product of a good post study-session back rub that had lulled her into a much-needed nap. The team loved it, thought it complimented the other two scents they’d been testing well. Ethan was hesitant, but he kept his mouth shut and brainstormed a backup if needed.

Grayson was thankful for the gesture, even when he’d told him that he’d started planning it as early as he had. But he wasn’t willing to give it up, and he made it very clear in their first meeting back that Polis was a permanent scent. It felt like a tiny piece of her that he could hold onto. Still, as he stood there and held the bottle up to his nose, it wasn’t the same. As pitiful as it made him feel, he tried closing his eyes, tried to imagine she was there with him, standing in front of him, giggling like she always did when they showered together. 

He couldn’t do it justice. Couldn’t feel the warmth of her skin against his, couldn’t smell her shampoo or watch her try to bend over and shave her legs in her small apartment shower without bumping into him. He’d held her hips to help her keep her balance, listened to her laugh and talk about casual intimacy, heard the way it echoed off the tiles and became his favorite sound in the entire world. 

His tears mixed with the water, his pain palpable as he started to quiver just barely, the memory enough to break down the paper thin wall he’d managed to drag back up to protect himself. When his knees shook he gave up and sunk to the ground, green tiles of the bench seat icy against his back as he buried his face in his hands. He’d never felt weaker in his life, and he wished he was ten again, so his dad could wrap his strong arm around his shoulder and tell him that everything would be alright. 

He went for the next best thing once he managed to get enough energy to get up and turn the water off. A few swipes of his towel over his body and hair, then he pulled his boxers on and put on his robe, walking straight out of his room and down the hall.

Ethan’s door was open, but he wasn’t in his bed like Gray expected. He was at his desk instead, a look of stress on his face that Grayson was all too familiar with. A pang of guilt resonated in him when he realized what his brother was doing - picking up all the slack that he was leaving in his misery. 

He hadn’t said a word about it though, and that made it worse.

It took Ethan a moment to realize his brother was there, but as soon as he did he turned his desk chair, giving him his full attention.

“Hey.”

Grayson didn’t answer.

“You okay?” Ethan tried again. Grayson’s throat burned, and he shook his head, sitting on the end of the bed. He’d never been able to hide from Ethan, and luckily, he never really had to. Because Ethan was the type of brother to act tough when he needed to, but soften up at the smallest things. Which was why Grayson wasn’t surprised to see his brother rise up out of his chair, coming to sit next to him. The bed sunk down a bit with his weight, and Grayson let himself press up against his brother. The air felt heavy while he waited.

“You’re good. Just let it out.” Ethan’s voice was quiet, and he leaned his cheek against his brother’s head and felt him go to pieces. It was the hardest Grayson had cried since the airport, and every sniffle made his head pound but he couldn’t pull himself together. Those were the kind of moments where he wondered how people survived without twin brothers. He felt safe there with Ethan - if everything else fell apart, at least he’d have him. There were a million things he could say, but he already knew what the answers would be. Ethan would tell him that he’d find someone else some day, and that Indy would heal and that he shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what he did. He also knew that Ethan would say all of it even if he didn’t believe it, because their pain was shared.

Grayson cried himself out again after an hour or so, his sinuses pounding behind his eyes as the headache settled in. 

Ethan stayed still - he knew better than to leave him. It wasn’t until Grayson finally wiped at his eyes that his brother relaxed a bit, watched him stand up and run his hands over his face. It felt colder without Ethan right next to him, but he knew he needed to sleep. 

“Try to get some sleep,” Ethan echoed his thoughts. “We need to record the pod tonight if you can.”

“Okay. I can help with the emails, I know we probably have a shit ton.”

Ethan was already shaking his head before he finished.

“Just get some sleep, okay?”

Grayson nodded and gave him the best smile he could manage before he went back into his room, climbing back into the safety of his covers with his phone in his hand, just in case she called.

Indy’s pillow was wet. It was mainly from her hair soaking into the pillowcase - she didn’t have the energy to dry it after her shower. But she’d also made a terrible mistake. One scroll through the app store and a quick log in and she was back onto instagram, ignoring the now thousands of follow requests she had in her notifications. It only took one click to her explore page and her tears were adding to the moisture below her cheek. 

He had on his Cudi hoodie, the yellow one. She wished she’d been there to tell him not to wear it. It was too bright, a target for the cameras that seemed to find him. The first ones she saw stung. They were only of his back, taken from far enough away that she could pretend it was someone else. But she knew the way he sat, with his arms over his knees. 

The next ones hurt, because she could see his face. He was walking, and she knew him well enough to know he’d realized what was happening and tried to leave, just from his posture, the way he slumped while walking. His eyes were red, those dark circles that she’d ran her fingers over so many times worse than she’d ever seen them. Ever since he’d left, she’d wanted to know how he felt. If he missed her at all, if he was as miserable as she seemed to be every minute of every day.

It hurt worse to get her answer than it did to wonder. She’d hoped he was upset, but suddenly all she wanted to do was hold him, tell him it was okay, that she was okay even though she wasn’t. It was impossible not to scroll, looking for anything new, any hints as to what he had been up to since he’d gotten off that plane. 

She had never asked for a front row seat to his life, but she’d take it if it was the only glimpse of him that she could get. It made her feel pathetic, but she didn’t care enough to fight it.

Eventually, she found herself scrolling his page. She couldn’t tell how she got there, but she couldn’t seem to leave it either. So she just scrolled, averting her eyes from any comments, and pretending, just for a moment, that everything was back to the way it was. That he was just busy recording a podcast, or that he’d be sprawled out on her couch when she went out to the living room. 

She held onto it until she walked out of her room, knowing she needed to eat even though she didn’t want to. She kept her eyes off the couch, moving to her cabinets that were barren apart from a few avocados that were rotten. With a sigh she threw them in the trash that was close to overflowing, opting instead for the last box of mac and cheese she had left. 

Indy was thankful for muscle memory, her mind wandering off to better days where her kitchen wasn’t so quiet as she cooked the pasta she really didn’t want and took it back to her room, curling up under her covers as she ate.

Grayson had two empty boxes of vegan mac and cheese in front of him, one of which obviously had an ‘E’ scribbled on it that he’d ignored when he made them. He shoveled the noodles into his mouth, ignoring the way they burnt his tongue just barely. Ethan walked in and saw the boxes, opened his mouth and shut it again. 

“S’pod setup?” Grayson said around a mouthful.

“Yeah, I set up the pod, we’re good whenever you’re ready.”

“Gimminute.”

Ethan just chuckled and shook his head, happy to at least see his brother eating even if he was shoveling it down like he hadn’t seen food before. He waited, seeing that Gray was done within the next two minutes, sitting his bowl in the sink and stretching his arms out. He looked tired, but Ethan hoped the pod camera was far enough away from them to make the dark circles subtle enough. 

“Do you want some of my old concealer stuff? For under your eyes?”

Grayson hesitated for a moment, picking at his nails. “You still have it?” 

“Yeah, hang on.” Ethan ran to his bathroom, snagged the compact from his bottom drawer and brought it to the kitchen. “Come over here, you’re supposed to do it in natural light.”

He held it out for Grayson, who just looked up at him. 

“I don’t know how the fuck to do it, you do it.”

“Do I look like a makeup artist to you?” Ethan asked, and when Grayson stayed quiet, he sighed and flipped the compact open, swiping his finger through the semi-creamy substance and moving to pat it on his brother, frowning when it was more difficult than he thought it would be. “Look up you fuck, I gotta blend it.”

Grayson just rolled his eyes but did as he was told, sitting still until E said he was finished and led the way to the studio. They got settled in their chairs, double checking the camera angles. Ethan cleared his throat, waiting until his brother looked at him. 

“Are we… do you want to mention anything about…”

Grayson waited. He wondered if his brother was really going to be dumb enough to ask.

“Are we talking about the pictures, yes or no.”

“What the fuck do you think the answer to that is,” Gray grumbled.

“I’m just saying, if you mention it you can say what you want about it, get your own voice out there. Whatever you say, I’ll go along with it.”

“Great.”

Grayson took a deep breath, gave Ethan a look that read as an apology, and clicked the button to start recording. He stayed fairly quiet the first few minutes of the recording, waiting to jump into a conversation that didn’t make his throat tight. The podcast was his favorite place, because he could let himself actually speak, say what he wanted to say without worrying. 

It came back to bite him in the ass 45 minutes into the episode, when his guard was down and he had finally lost himself the way he did when he worked. They were talking about birds, and how they had a bad, unjustified rep. 

“I mean, Gizmo can be an asshole sometimes, but she’s only an asshole when people are like, scared of her,” Ethan mused. 

“Right! She gets all shy when I come home after a while, but when Dee came in the house the first time she was freaking out, just from hearing her and I swear, every time after that Giz just like, screamed every single time she was even in the house.”

“Gray-”

“No seriously! You remember how loud she got? Fuck, remember that time she went down to help mom with dessert and Giz was out and she cried?”

“Grayson.”

“What? Did I peak the mic?”

Ethan’s eyes were sad. “You… you said her name.”

“Huh?”

“Indiana. You said Dee, when you were telling that story.”

He swallowed hard. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He could see him spiraling, and he tried to reel him back in. “You’re okay. We can just cut it, and start again with a story about Gizmo.” 

“Yeah uh… just give me a second.”

“Sure. Whatever you need.”

“Just, uh, say what you said again before,” Grayson murmured, shaking his head to try and clear it. But it was too late - he was so consumed by what his mind had brought back to the surface that he could barely hear Ethan repeat his words.

“Yeah-” Grayson came in a moment late. “Giz is a special one.”

Ethan waited for him to continue, but jumped in when he didn’t. “She gets shy when you haven’t been home in a while and you show up. That’s the thing about animals dude, like people think about cats and dogs and they can recognize their emotions, but with stuff like birds and cows and shit, people just don’t think about them that way, and it fucking sucks. They have feelings too! Gizmo’s fucking sassy bro, she will let you know how she’s feeling, especially if she’s pissed. Bro, we should have Giz on the pod, do you think she’d talk? She can whistle, we could show off her tricks.”

“You can’t put a bird on a plane,” Grayson mumbled. His eyes were fixed down on the blue center of the table, and he was fidgeting with his sleeves.

“Yeah, but we can put the mics in our suitcases and just record at home.”

Ethan realized it a moment too late. He wanted to snatch his words out of the air, scratch them from the tape when he saw the way Grayson’s eyes met his, saw the gloss near his waterline. 

“Yeah - uh - um,” Grayson tried to save it, and then he covered his mouth, silencing the squeak that turned into a sob. He pretended it was a cough, bringing his hand up and running his fingers over his forehead, shielding his eyes from the camera.

“I uh, I miss home a lot more this time than I usually do,” he said, his voice froggy with the tightness of his throat. Ethan couldn’t say anything. There was nothing to say as he watched his brother fight and lose in his battle to keep his composure, covering his mouth as he cried, knuckles brushing up against the mic.

“Fuck, sorry, I’m sorry E.”

“It’s okay, hey, it’s okay.” Ethan was up so fast he forgot to take off his headphones. They fell back into the chair when they pulled off his ears as he moved to his brother, pulling him up into a hug. “We can finish it later, we’ll just cut to an ad or something. It’s okay.”

“Sorry.”

“Shh. It’s fine bro, it’s fine. C’mon, let’s go get some air.” 

Air wasn’t what they found.

Instead, they found Eden, standing against the counter with her arms crossed in a way that had Ethan’s blood running cold. He thought the sight of Grayson practically curled in on himself might have softened her up, but she stood her ground until both of the twins were looking at her. 

Grayson knew that she knew, and she only confirmed it when she spoke.

“What. The fuck. Is wrong with you.” 

Back in New York, Indy’s phone was ringing. Or at least, she thought it was. But when she unlocked it and was blinded by the light, it was just her lockscreen, Grayson smiling at her with 3:04 written across the top. Judging by the darkness, she knew she hadn’t slept the afternoon away, but the buzzing continued until she finally climbed out of bed and realized it was the intercom system - the front desk calling her through the small phone on her wall that hardly ever rang. She pulled it off the receiver and held it up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi Ms. Cross, there’s a gentleman here to see you.”

Her heart skipped, and she clutched the phone with both her hands.

“Who?”

There was a beat of silence, and Indy could vaguely hear her ask him for a name. 

“His name is Devin.” 

She sucked in a breath, letting her head and her hopes fall. 

“Send him up.” 

It took her a moment to process her grief before the panic set in. If Devin was showing up unannounced, something bad must have happened. She swung her door open, chewing on her nails as she stood in the doorway, waiting for him to appear. He came out of the elevator with a small duffle slung over his shoulder and a cautious smile that had her ready to cry.

“Dev, what the hell are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Charlie?”

“Also fine. We’re fine.”

She caught her breath, and then she was frowning. “If everything is fine, why the fuck are you here at 3am?”

“Because you haven’t answered your sister’s calls in a week, and she’s worried sick about you.”

Guilt panged in her stomach - she hadn’t meant to ignore her. In all honesty, she’d ignored everyone without realizing it. 

“I- sorry, I didn’t mean to. Just slipped my mind. Is she here too?”

“She’s got a wedding to shoot this weekend, and we only had one ticket anyways. Flight got delayed, tried to find a hotel for the night so I could wait until later this morning but I couldn’t find one so you’re stuck with me. Sorry,” he teased, reaching out to hold onto her shoulder. There was no malice in his voice, and Indy was grateful. “Let’s go inside.” 

He didn’t ask for it, but she made him a coffee anyways alongside her own. She was tired, her eyes burning, but it wasn’t anything new from the last few weeks. She fought it, pulling one of the few sweatshirts Grayson had left at her place over her head before she sat on the couch, waiting.

Devin was quiet, tapping his fingers against his mug, out of his element. 

“Dev.”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t fly to New York to drink coffee with me. Talk.”

He sighed, sitting his mug down on the coffee table and turning towards her.

“Inds, we’re worried about you.” 

Indy scoffed, a short, automatic sound. 

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. You really, really aren’t. You’re running yourself into the ground for no good reason.” 

“I’m trying to pay rent,” she countered, but even she knew it wasn’t true.

“Your hospital job pays more than rent. Jet’s is just because you’re scared to let your mind rest.”

Indy didn’t have an answer, so she sipped her coffee instead, cursing herself for telling Charlie everything in a moment of weakness. The silence was loud, and Devin sighed to break it after far too long.

“Have you talked to him? Since?”

Her throat was tight. “No.”

Devin wrung his hands together. “You do know it was fucked up what he did, right?”

“Dev-”

“I’m just making sure you know that. You can still make your own decision on however you wanna navigate it in the future, but you have to acknowledge that what he did was a new level of shitty. And he’s a good guy, I really do think he is, but he fucked you over, and you’re my family. And I protect my family. So I just need you to know that you didn’t deserve what he did to you, and he fucked up. Big time.” 

“Right.”

“Okay, good.”

She let him believe it, though she’d only said it to appease him. She wondered if he would feel differently, if he had seen. If he had felt, the way that Grayson had shook in her arms, the way his sobs seemed to be ripping him apart every moment that he was hurting her. She wanted to pull up her phone, show him the pictures from the beach, show him that he was hurting too, that he didn’t want to hurt her. She wanted to prove it to him.

“When does your semester start?” He asked, pulling her mind off of it. She swallowed hard, then took another drink of coffee. 

Indiana had spent three days in self pity when she got back from the airport. She let the misery have her fully - didn’t change her clothes, barely ate, hardly left her bedroom. And then, after that, she picked herself up and got to work. She applied for her tech job and called Patrick to see if she could get the schedules to align, and more importantly, she’d started to run numbers. 

Medical school. Just the application fees alone were going to hit her budget hard, so much so that she reduced it down to two. JCU, and UCLA. 

Her applications had gotten accepted three days prior, along with an email about a scholarship she was eligible for at UCLA that made it comparable to JCU’s tuition. But the money wasn’t the issue, and when it was time to accept, she knew that UCLA wouldn’t hold her spot forever.

She’d taken a deep breath, and emailed the registrar. 

“I deferred.”

She was embarrassed to say it outloud, and for some reason it was the brick of the dam that fell, and her tears began to flow. She felt Devin’s hand on her shoulder before he spoke.

“Good.”

She hadn’t expected him to be mean - in fact, the meanest thing she’d ever heard him say was what he’d just said about Grayson. But it still shocked her enough to have her frowning.

“Good?”

“Indy. Do you realize how long you’ve been a student? Do you know who you are outside of being one?”

“I-”

“You’re the smartest person I know, and I love you, but I think you need to take a step back and really look at what you’re doing. Take a semester, fuck, take a year. Live. Breathe. You’re already ahead, and you’ll still be ahead.”

“I’m not worried about being ahead, Dev,” she whispered, running her hands over her face.

“Then what are you worried about?” There was a sincerness in his voice, and a gentleness in the way he held her hand that made her cry even harder.

“I just don’t know what the fuck to do anymore,” she blubbered, grateful when he pulled her over to his chest in a hug. He let her cry it out for a while, waiting until she was calm enough to hear him.

“I don’t have the answer to that, but I say, ask yourself what you really want the rest of your life to look like, and then do whatever you have to to get there. If it’s being a doctor, great. If it’s not, great. Just as long as it’s what you want.”

She took a shaky breath in, and blew it out through her lips, simply giving him a nod.

The problem was, she knew exactly what she wanted - and he was off in Los Angeles, cowering behind his brother.

“Baby, woah, hey, take it easy,” Ethan cautioned, side stepping into the war path she’d outlined, headed straight for Grayson. Her eyes were fire when she looked at her boyfriend and raised an eyebrow.

“He’s having a rough night, just take it easy,” he added.

He stoked the flames.

“You know who else is probably having a rough fucking night? Indiana. And we are gonna talk later-” she poked a finger into Ethan’s chest - “but right now, I’m not talking to you so I suggest you get out of my way.” 

There was a bite in her tone that had Ethan rocking back on his heels, questioning just how far his duties as protective brother would go. He breathed out a sigh when he felt Grayson’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine E.” 

He’d never admit it, but Grayson had been waiting. Ever since he pulled away on New Year’s, he had waited for the punishment. The anger, the disbelief, the spite that he thought would arise in Indiana at the realization of what he’d done. 

It wasn’t until he got off the plane and into his room that he realized his true punishment would be the guilt, and the grief, and the realization that he’d pushed away the only future he’d ever truly known he wanted. 

The anger was a welcomed change.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck, Grayson.”

“I know.”

“I don’t say a lot of shit about a lot of shit, but whoever you decide to be with could possibly end up as part of my family, forever, so fuck me if I’m invested, and I think I deserve an explanation on why I just got a call from Charlie to see if I’d talked to Indy, cause she’s ‘really going through it’.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her.” His eyes turned glossy, and Ethan stood up straighter.

“The fuck you didn’t,” she scoffed, running her hand through her hair to push her curls out of her face. “You realize how badly you fucked up, right? Right?”

“Yes.”

“And that you broke her heart right? Probably absolutely fucking destroyed her.”

“Eden-” Ethan spoke up.

“Yes,” Grayson answered, his chest tight. He wrapped his arms around himself, willed them to hold him together. It felt different, to have someone say it to him so directly, to confirm what he had done.  

“Then why? Just… why?”

“Long distance wouldn’t have worked, and I didn’t want -”

“Oh bullshit. No one would have tried harder than Indiana to make that work, you fucking know that.”

“She shouldn’t have to deal with that, with me being so far away -”

“God you fucking self-sacrificial fuck!” She yelled. “She loved you, you moron, and when you love someone, you give! You hit a crossroads, you sit down and have a fucking conversation, and you fucking give! That’s what a fucking real relationship looks like, not you deciding that you don’t deserve to be loved and running in the other fucking direction!” Her face was red when she stopped to catch her breath. Ethan looked just as shocked at the outburst as his brother. Her mind seemed to catch up to her ears, and she backtracked.

“Sorry, fuck, that was -”

“No, you're right. You’re right. Everything you said was fucking right,” Grayson didn’t even try to hide his tears. He blubbered into his hands, ugly choking sobs that he wasn’t sure how he even produced. Ethan was at his side immediately, arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“What do I do?” He asked, voice muffled by his hands until he finally raised his head and looked at Eden with pleading eyes, waiting for an answer she was reluctant to give.

“You let her live. Don’t text her, don’t call her. If she calls, you don’t answer. When you go home, you don’t see her. You let her let go, and move on.”

All he could do was nod, and lean into his brother.

Indy leaned against the wall. It was cold and unrelenting against her shoulder, but it held her up better than her own legs would. She’d dropped Devin off at the airport that afternoon, and found herself back on the ped’s floor, waiting. 

Valentina spotted her first from the nurses station, and the way she held her clipboard made it look like a weapon.

“My eyes better be deceiving me, cause’ I know that is not Indiana Cross standing in my hallway on her day off.” 

Indy found it in her to laugh dryly. “Relax Val, I’m here to see Beks. Haven’t gotten to visit her off the clock for a while.”

Valentina still gave her signature disapproving stare, but she gave it up with a sigh. “Well, her family is visiting too. Mom and Dad, if you wanna say hi.”

It had been a long time since she’d seen Mr. and Mrs. Newcomb. They were lovely people, and they truly did come see her as often as they could. But they also worked two jobs a piece to try to foot the medical bills, which meant often was scarce. 

Indy had never seen them in the same room before, and her stomach tightened. She was hesitant to go to Bekah’s room, scared to interrupt, but when she peaked her head around her doorway, she saw the couple sitting on the couch in the room quietly. 

Mrs. Newcomb spotted her, eyes brightening as she waved her inside. 

“Come in, come in!”

Indy was still hesitant as she walked inside, eyes darting over to a sleeping Bekah. She was curled up under her halloween blanket, brows furrowed down and skin pale. 

“Hi Indiana, how are you sweet girl?” Mrs. Newcomb asked.

“I’m good, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just thought I might stop by and check on her but I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, no you’re fine! She was actually asking about you just before she went to sleep, you and Earring, whoever that is. Hang on.”

Indy watched as she moved over to the edge of her daughter’s bed, running her thumb along her cheek until she started to stir.

“Sweetheart, Indiana is here to see you. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Bekah whined, but pulled her eyes open, smiling slightly when Indiana moved into her view.

“Hey punk,” Indy said, crouching down so she could get to her level. 

“Hey,” she whispered, voice hoarse. On instinct, Indy reached out to fix her head wrap, making Bekah’s mother smile. “What time is it?”

“6:55,” Indy answered.

“Mmm. Meds coming soon,” she mumbled. “Where’s Earrings? He doesn’t like needles, don’t let him see the needles.”

“No needles baby,” Mrs. Newcomb said. “Just some to make you feel better. You rest now.”

“Earrings,” she said again, and Indy could tell she was asking. 

“He’ll be here to see you soon,” Indy lied, rubbing over her wrap like she would her hair if it was still there. 

It didn’t click for Indiana until 7 rolled around, and Jennifer came in with a cup of pills instead of an IV pole.

Radiation and chemo don’t come in pills, Indy knew that much. 

Mrs. Newcomb watched the realization come across her face, and she gave her a sympathetic smile.

“She’s… she didn’t get her meds.”

“Indiana baby, it’s what she wants. The new round didn’t work, the stem cells failed. It’s time to let her rest. We’ll keep her comfortable, the doctor says it’ll probably be a few weeks, maybe a month.”

Indy’s throat burned, and her breathing quickened, chest rising much too fast. She couldn’t say goodbye to anyone - it took all her focus to make it out of the building, running down the stairs and across the lobby before she was dry heaving in the bushes, the sight of Bekah’s frail body in her bed appearing every time she closed her eyes.

It wasn’t a conscious decision. More of an instinct, really, that drove her to pull her phone out of her pocket and pull him up and call.

In LA, Grayson’s phone buzzed against his nightstand. A new picture of Indiana popped up - her contact photo that he’d taken one day in Jersey. With a knot in his throat and Eden’s voice in his ears, he reached over and turned it off before rolling away and letting his tears soak into the pillowcase.

[lemonietrinket]

Coward ||| Chan & Reader

Summary: you and your best friend that have been conjoined at the hip since you were little got into an argument 3 weeks prior, and you can do little to escape it Genres: Angst, but a happy ending with fluff Warnings: consequences of and therefore inferences to a big argument (actual events left vague), one explicit insult, poor language (2x f**k) Word Count: 2,099 Theme: Not a song, but this edit inspired the fic AN: guess how long I’ve had this here in my drafts? September 9, 2019. finally got round to writing it, even though I knew exactly what would happen this is my brain’s bs I don’t write angst super often so, I hope you enjoy!

High school/non-idol AU

~~~

With a sigh you let your chin fall onto your arms. You stared at your own muffled reflection in the glass as you sat on the windowsill, brain in a haze. The cicadas were chirping away below your hunched body, their chorus at its opening hook, and they would continue long through the night—much like the chaos next door.

You supposed, through the thicket of your thoughts, that you should be grateful that the swathes of bodies were just chatting loudly to themselves, instead of screeching to some awful trap beat like they’d been doing the week before. The speakers were playing full blast however, and it didn’t help a single bit that it was one of your favourite songs.  In fact, that was part of the reason why you felt so heavy.

Had things been normal, you would have been there, dancing and smiling and joking with anyone who would listen. But you weren’t.

He hadn’t invited you. Your best friend. Didn’t invite you—his best friend—to his birthday party. Over something so petty too.

You could barely recall the intricacies of the argument. All you could remember was his terse scowl, his soft eyes going from sweet to sour in a second, and the words that cracked like a whip and branded you. Your best friend was so gentle, with a heart of gold—you had seen him at his worst once before, what you’d thought was his worst, and even then you couldn’t imagine he could even contain the spite that then flew from his lips. Even if there had been warning for what could come, nothing further still could have prepared you for it.

He’d become a sort of cold vicious, insults thrown carelessly that then cut deep as if they’d been heated in a bare flame. “How can you be such a fucking coward, Y/N?” had been the one that had twisted as it was pulled out. It still snuck up on you, pounced when you thought you’d calmed down, and then left you reeling in unsettled hurt all over again. 

It never made you cry though. Not during the day. As night crept over the horizon however, it was a different story, and the cicadas’ call became a tepid siren.

You let the warm night air hold you, as if it would work as a suitable replacement, though you knew it would never come close. Breathing in the night air, you sank deeper into the arms of your jumper. It smelt of comfort, of home, of happiness, and the loose hairs there tickled your nose. It was as if your reactions were on a set delay, as it took you several seconds to realise that it was dog hair that was on your sleeves, and that scent was from the person that had taken the comfort away from you. 

‘He doesn’t want you anymore,’ you had to remind yourself, ‘you shouldn’t spare a thought on him.’

But there you were, moping nevertheless, your thoughts practically consumed by him. You couldn’t blame yourself entirely for it, because even as soon as you tried to lift your head away from the memories embroidered in your sleeves, you were still hit by the realisation that you were sat by your bedroom window—the very one that he’d clambered through unprompted years before. He’d been so desperate to escape being forced to tolerate his uncle’s ramblings about roadworks and his pitch to him to get him to come and work at his business instead of music. “Silly songwriting,” had been what his uncle had referred to it as, and your best friend always got a kick out of impersonating the man’s wily poshness. 

You used to chuckle every time your brain procured the memory randomly for you. Now, it just stung.

He’d always wanted to do music, and he refused to give in no matter what anyone told him. His parents had always been supportive, and you figured that was partly why he was so determined with it, though the sentiment wasn’t shared with his extended relatives that often visited. You’d always thought he was brave for standing up to them, it was something that you’d always wanted to do to your own for other reasons, but never found the words to.

You caught yourself in the loop, shaking your head miserably at yourself and the situation before you. How were you supposed to move on when everything around you seeped with him? The caps you shared were slung on the bedposts, the mess of homework scattered upon your desk, the guitar in the corner easing gradually out of tune. Even the night itself was his time. How were you supposed to hide away from the night when you’d spent pretty much every other one before with him.

The ember heat of anger rose in your throat, your thoughts spiking at the distaste of how no one seemed to take the jagged loss of a best friend seriously, at least to enough to help you. The heat grew wilder then; it was never directed at him.

With the sun set below the horizon you felt your lower lip quiver and you loathed its tenderness. You’d watched the sunset with him so many times, you could conjure the exact shades of gold and crimson in your head, it was just a hindrance that you couldn’t paint it without his messy dark curls in the corner.

A knock came from the front door, ad you found yourself counting its beats. Three, no sharps, just drawled pauses in between. You immediately questioned yourself on as to why it mattered. But you knew exactly why. Wishing one of your parents was home to go and answer it would not fix the problem no matter how much you yearned it to, and so you convinced yourself to trundle down the stairs to see who it was. It was probably only a delivery guy after all. Hopefully they wouldn’t try and talk to you unnecessarily.

Biting the inside of your cheek and settling your shaking lips into a firm scowl you swung open the door with a warning glare already in your eye.

To your surprise, it was no person holding a stack of pizza or a parcel of any kind, just a boy you knew too well, with his fallen-tipped eyes all downtrodden.

“Chan, what the fuck are you doing here?” you snapped, your hand itching to slam the door straight back in his face. The only thing that stopped you was his bitten lips. You hated how you knew him so well and that it left you vulnerable.

He drew a smile upon his face, but it was too tight-lipped to be convincing. You wondered if he thought you a fool to try and lie, but still you left the door open. “Too many people,” he finally managed, one fist curling in the cradle of the other’s palm.

“It’s your party!” you snarled, your heart’s leniency not transferring across to your words. You watched his lips hammer shut as his sad eyes glanced away, explanations or excuses—how were you to tell—pooling behind his barricade. You let him stew, the vengeful spirit seeking some joy in his utter discomfort and you didn’t have it in you to hold it back quite yet. The weeks he’d left you in turmoil etched across your mind, the insecurities he’d played on that he couldn’t use the ignorance-card for in the slightest too. You weren’t ready to forgive him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tag a ‘never’ no matter how much you tried. 

His response broke through the blockade of his silence. “I realised that I messed up Y/N, and it’s not my party if you’re not there and,” his gaze came back to yours and you indulged him, meeting his eyes and how they glistened, “and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

The vengeful sprite vanished from your shoulder, and you were left without a clue as to what to do. You wanted to forgive him, and he seemed genuine. He’d never pulled a stunt like this before, and you’d known him ever since you were little. But neither could you put his words to bed, and the actions that followed. You’d been to every single one of his birthday parties, you’d been such a staple to him that this wasn’t actually the first time you strictly speaking hadn’t been invited—because there was no way you wouldn’t have been at his side to begin with.  But this was a first, and it hurt. 

You took in the sight of the boy that you’d refused to even look at for the past three weeks. He looked exactly how you’d left him, only emptier. His shadow grew in the flitting light of the dying day sky, much like the ones beneath his eyes had already done. He was closed in on himself, the subtle confidence he always oozed nowhere to be found. You couldn’t picture his high tone catching laughter tumbling from his lips like this. Neither could you hear those sharp edged words on them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean it, it all just happened and... and this doesn’t fix it—I made you cry, and I hate that I did! It... it’s my responsibility. I accept that it’s my fault, and I’m sorry, I really am—”

You stepped from your doorway and took him into your arms. Three weeks was too long of a time to be from them after all, and you couldn’t stand the way the tears threatened to spill over both your eyes and his. 

He held onto you as soon as you fit against him as perfectly as you always did, hands clutching at your jumper while he nestled his head into your hair. Your tears dampened the collar of his sweater as you sighed, a staggered breath that only just pulled you back from crying entirely. You focused on him, just like you had done before, only this time it was less painful. You realised he smelt different than before, and it soon occurred to you that it was your scent that was missing. It surprised you to discover just how much of your perfume ended up all over him. It wasn’t like you were super affectionate and cuddly friends either. Your lips twitched into a smile without a single thought discarded.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, swaying before your wide open door as Chan slowly regained his stability. All the midges were probably fleeing inside but this once you didn’t mind. You had your comfort back, and even though things weren’t perfect, you could begin to move forward as things should.

“You better make it up to me,” you ordered, a feeble laugh filtering through. 

He sniffed and its stunned you just how close to crying he’d been. “I know, I will, I promise.”

Rubbing his back soothingly, you eased him into swinging gently with the song. It earnt you a warbled laugh, but it meant his usual self was returning. “Do you want to play Mario Kart and see how long it takes for someone to notice?”

You pulled away gently hearing him chuckle awkwardly. Peering up you saw his pink tinged cheeks and wet eyes that he half-covered-half-wiped with his hand. He was the same old Chan you’d known for years after all. “Sounds perfect!” You smiled, helping him wipe his tears with the side of your finger which caused him to sheepishly smile and repeat ‘I’m ok, I’m ok...!’ 

Unsure how to handle the next part, you ended up leading him inside his second home with an awkward shimmy of your arms. It was meant to be a dance move, but it didn’t look much like one and it barely fit the theme of the song pummelling across the air. It didn’t matter to you though, it was really a test of the waters, and fortunately: it worked.

Your restored best friend giggled shyly as he followed, steadying his breath as he watched you shuffle through your front door. He would make all his words up to you, he vowed he would. They’d all been misplaced, all been resentments with himself that he’d sprung weakly on the first other he found, and of course that was going to be you. He was going to make it right, never let you down, help you with whatever you asked—no excuses—and maybe let you win a few times at Mario Kart. And maybe one day he would finally work up the courage to tell you the truth.

~~~

AN: i wrote a thing! go brain!

[edited: may 31]

Masterlist

[bisluthq]

*WARNING Domestic violence topic* Could you explain to me why seven could sound queer?, Like I can see how many Taylor songs can be interpreted in a queer way, but with seven I can't see it, like for me it's clearly about domestic violence and the only possible queer thing I can hear it's the closet part...but in this particular case I do not think it refers to sexuality but to literally hiding form your abusive parents. Sorry if this was asked before or if it's disrespectful to ask.

So firstly let me just say that victims of abuse who hear that in the song are so valid. And I’m not here to “take away” a song that speaks to that experience. If it brings you comfort and relief, that’s amazing.

Do I think Taylor meant it as a song about domestic violence or escaping from that? Honestly, no. Because she described herself in LPSS as longing for that time in her life and talked about how she misses being able to throw tantrums and feel more freely and without judgement; in her head she’s thinking about this period in her life very fondly. Now, this is one of those death of the author moments because if you’re an abuse survivor who found comfort in this you... shouldn’t care wtf Taylor meant by it, what matters is what it means to you. Same as how if betty speaks to your sapphic teenage love triangle, it shouldn’t matter that Taylor imagined James as a boy.

But yeah, so for Taylor it was not meant to be about abuse. It was about feeling stuff more freely. And let’s take a look and examine at why it feels so fucking gay to... like... basically every queer woman.

Please picture me

In the trees

I hit my peak at seven

Okay so Taylor is setting up a narrator - presumably herself. Especially in the context of her hyperconfessional marketing and the LPSS explanation we’re literally meant to picture Tay. But tbh that doesn’t matter so much - it could be any little girl. This little girl is “in the trees”... which isn’t really where little girls are supposed to be. In these very first lines Tay is setting up a little tomboy character.... and then she says “I hit my peak at seven” - ergo this rugrat period of abandon, where I was free to play in the trees, is “my peak”. It was the best time in “my” life.

Lots of people feel that, it’s not inherently gay, but for queer women - I don’t know about other shades of queer but suspect yes - childhood often represents even greater freedom than to hets because it’s before we felt deviant. There was nothing to compare ourselves to. Sure, we might’ve played families in het couples like heteronormativity is felt by children too, but that kind of thing was largely asexual and we didn’t know yet that other people felt differently about it all.

Like I only realized I was different in late middle school and I didn’t have the word for it for ages tbh. Like I just knew I didn’t get the fuss about boys. When I was a little kid? I didn’t know what the fuss was really. It was a kind of “peak” so yeah, I feel that in my bones.

Feet

In the swing

Over the creek

I was too scared to jump in, but I, I was high

In the sky

Here we have her playing, once again with reckless abandon - she’s standing on a swing (naughty!) and swinging high over a creek. But she’s slightly nervous. I relate to that too, it’s not a gay thought it’s a little kid thought I think - because while she’s enjoying her freedom and the chance to play, there’s an awareness of the risk. That’s a lot of childhood and what makes her such a greater songwriter is how she’s able to capture these feelings we’ve all had before, in this case the rumbunctious nature of free play paired with the cautious nervousness of knowing you can fall.

With Pennsylvania under me

I mean this simple makes it more autobiographical for her, like if we didn’t know her was her that was the me , now we really do.

Are there still beautiful things?

This is speaks to her nostalgia for this time period and serves to highlight how much she misses it. She wishes she was young and innocent and had that freedom of playing in the trees and above the creek and feeling like she’s flying just because she’s standing upright on the swing. This is meant to be her “peak”.

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross your heart, won't tell no other

The first line is setting up mood again, it’s innocence and suburbia and freedom and the hot days of summer vacation. The second is a common English phrase - for the ESL folks - that means “let’s keep a secret”. It’s extremely common for little girls especially to have secrets with each other. “You’re my best friend and I’ll tell you something I haven’t told anyone else before but cross your heart you won’t tell anyone else” is the kind of thing that has probably happened at a sleepover for every woman (gay or straight). So Tay’s whispering and telling secrets to her best friend aged seven in the heat of the summer and the neat rhymes kinda remind me of those clapping games you play as a kid.

And though I can't recall your face

I still got love for you

Again, I think this isn’t specific to gay kids necessarily - it’s that idea of having lifelong affection for your first best friend even when you don’t know where they are, can’t imagine them in adulthood, maybe can’t even remember their surname and frankly don’t really want to or care... but you still have warm feelings towards them.

Your braids like a pattern

Love you to the moon and to Saturn

So the friend is a girl. And here’s where the non wlw readers will have to work with me a little bit because as I’ve explained before a very common, enteral part of the queer female experience is obsession with other girls’ femininities. We notice things like hair and clothes and makeup on girls far more than straight girls seem to and waaay more than het guys do. A friend of mine who is v butch noticed like minor shit that any of us change in our appearance. Describing in detail a girl’s appearance feels - on a gut level - pretty gay. Now this isn’t a detailed description, but she links this physical trait - this pretty, braided hair her friend has - to loving her.

Now, she is a child in this story. This isn’t a sexual kind of thing in the child’s mind. She’s obviously not “in love” with her friend aged seven. But she is saying her deep, overwhelming love for her friend is inextricably linked - via rhyme scheme - to her feminine appearance.

This incredibly close, quasi homoerotic friendship is a near universal wlw experience and I’m sorry but it differs from straight girls’ close friendships because it’s... a lot. It is “love you to the moon and to Saturn” and obsessing over her clothes and hair and little habits.

And there’s no vocab for this, nothing to prepare you for it and nobody bats an eye because little girls are supposed to be friends with one another but like... you’re way overinvested and often that other girl isn’t and starts to drift away because she isn’t having this language free connection and it’s legit heartbreaking.

Passed down like folk songs

The love lasts so long

This childhood friendship becomes an anecdote, a moment of folkloric storytelling, but it never completely fades away and tapping into this first - not quite sexual but very sapphic - experience is super easy.

And I've been meaning to tell you

I think your house is haunted

Your dad is always mad and that must be why

And I think you should come live with

Me and we can be pirates

This sets up the narrative some people - I understand where y’all are coming from and I am here for it - hear of domestic abuse. The thing is, it’s not Tay’s character who is getting abused. Tay is a small child - and she’s envious of and nostalgic for that era of her life, when she thought that her best best best friend’s asshole dad was simply reacting to ghosts. It speaks to an innocence her character has which may not be shared by her friend, the girl with the braids.

But Tay is innocent and she says “come with me” and run away so we can be pirates together. Now, on a very basic and superficial pop culture level it’s worth noting Keira Knightley in POTC is pretty fundamental to any queer millennial woman’s sexual awakening. However, that’s not what Tay’s referencing here. She’s saying, at least on some level, let’s run away and be gender nonconforming. Again, she’s a small child. She doesn’t know why she wants that. But she doesn’t tell her friend “let’s run away and be princesses” - she wants to be a pirate. It links to the first scene in the song of her being a tomboy in the trees and on the swing, honestly. There were also a number of cross dressing female pirates, many of whom were gay back in the day so it’s a subtle nod to how a lot of childhood fantasies actually are rooted in possible historical fact.

But also come on, every queer girl wanted to be a pirate idk why really we just did. Like I say I can explain it as a desire not to conform to gender norms but it’s also just... another weirdly common fantasy that she’s tapping into.

Like idk this song is so fucking gay and it’s not trying to be but every line is just... felt in my bones. Like little me is seen by this song.

Then you won't have to cry

Or hide in the closet

This is obvi the line people go on about and look. The friend’s dad is clearly an asshole like that’s established. But the line has a double meaning. She’s saying if you run away with me to be a pirate on the high seas you won’t have to cry anymore and you won’t hide in the closet. It’s an innocent thought but it’s also a double meaning, right? You won’t be abused, you won’t be sad. And you’ll be with me out of the closet. It could’ve been “hide under the bed” or “behind the curtains”. But she picked closet. And that word gives this verse a second meaning, which is particularly palpable given as I say this is a very gay song from a thematic standpoint.

And just like a folk song

Our love will be passed on

Again, this is a deeeeep love. This is someone she wants to run away with. And she probably doesn’t know why, she probably doesn’t have the words. She’s a little kid. But this friend of hers is the person she wants to rescue and run away with and be together with even though she - Tay - is pretty content otherwise. In fact, she longs for this time in her life. It was full of beautiful things. And yet despite being happy, she was willing to drop it all for her little female friend she was clearly preoccupied with.

Please picture me

In the weeds

Before I learned civility

I used to scream

Ferociously

Any time I wanted

I, I

Again, this reiterates she is nostalgic for this time period. It was a good time in Taylor’s life. It was a time when she could be herself, before she had learned civility and what was expected from her by society. Which ties back to that thing I said right in the beginning, about how this first quasi sapphic friendship is cherished by queer women because we didn’t know it was weird. We hadn’t “learned civility” yet. We could scream, we could run around and climb trees, and we could ask our friends to run away with us not knowing those thoughts didn’t occur to them with the same intensity.

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross my heart, won't tell no other

And though I can't recall your face

I still got love for you

We’ve discussed this already. It’s still queer coded to me.

Pack your dolls and a sweater

We'll move to India forever

Passed down like folk songs

Our love lasts so long

So she’s once again cementing the fact that this is a little female friend with the dolls, and again suggests running away together and says even though none of that happened and she grew up and realized this... was actually a fairly specific experience not a universal universal one and she learned civility and heteronormativity but this foundational, pure, innocent gay love... will always remain in its complete innocuous harmlessness but immense power.

And so, yeah. This song is probably Taylor’s gayest shortly followed by Treacherous.

But if it means something else to you, I’m by no means taking it away. Anyone can enjoy her music in any way they like.

It’s just weird that most queer women feel their childhood selves are completely seen by this song if it was a complete accident 🤷🏻‍♀️

[stupouid]

Unity (ATLA boys x reader) Chapter 3

returA/N hey guys!! sorry it took so long to get chapter 3! I literally could not find a plot for this chapter, so i decided to skip the desert. 

Chapter 2|Chapter 3

Word count: 3210 words

Chapter 3

The Desert (i am aware that i skipped a lot of episodes I just don’t want it to bee too long)

Traveling with the GAang was interesting. To kill time Aang told Y/N stories of how King Bumi was like as a kid. Y/N was extremely fascinated by these anecdotes, and amazed by how everyone could travel freely throughout the four nations 100 years ago. She wanted to participate in the story-telling too, so she told Aang some of the stories her mother had told her about her travels, and this shocked Aang as well. Soon the two realized that a century ago traveling rules were less strict than they were twenty years ago. 

Everyone in the group was quite fond of Y/N. Katara was grateful to have another girl in the group so she would have someone to rant to whenever Sokka did something disgusting. Aang was grateful to have someone help him locate his next destination, as Sokka and Katara had never been outside of the south pole. And Sokka was grateful that there was someone who would listen to his jokes or agree with his crazy ideas. 

Sokka would be lying if he denied the fact that he was feeling some sort of connection to Y/N. He always wanted to be around her for some reason, and every little thing she did would be engraved in his mind. If Y/N played with her h/c locks, Sokka would save that and think about it when he had nothing else to think about. If Y/N laughed at one of his jokes, he would automatically analyze said joke, and try to make more jokes like that one. If Y/N gave him a compliment on something of his or suggested he do something, he would think about that constantly and change whatever Y/N suggested.

I could say that Y/N felt the same about him, but I would be lying, and fRiEnDs DoN’t LiE. Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Zuko, and wondering how he was doing. She may have not felt any romantic feelings for him, but that doesn't mean she couldn’t think about her friend. 

Weeks had passed and the GAang had a new member, an earthbender named Toph. Y/N and Toph had hit it right away, their personalities instantly clicking. And the similarities in the ways they were treated when they were younger made them closer, if anything. Toph was treated as a helpless, blind, little girl even though she was an extremely talented earth bender. Y/N’s parents treated her well, but Azula made her feel useless since she had no bending. And after Y/N’s mother died, Y/N’s father had neglected and emotionally abused her. So yeah, the two girls had been through a lot. 

As of right now, the 5 teens were walking through the desert, without Appa because he had been taken by sandbenders for money. As usual, Y/N tuned out of the conversation (more like an argument) that was between Toph and Aang about how Toph let Appa go away. 

“I’m going after Appa,” Aang shouted in a harsh tone. He then flew off with his glider.

“Aang! Wait!” Katara shouted, running to the spot where he took off from. Y/N walked over to KAtara and placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

“We'd better start walking,” Y/N started. “We're the only people who know about the solar eclipse. We have to get that information to Ba Sing Se.” The teens, minus Aang, then started to walk towards the same direction Aang flew off in. 

“You think if we dig out the giant owl, he'll give us a ride?” Sokka questioned. Y/N laughed and punched his shoulder playfully.

-

Sokka, Katara, Toph and Y/N had been walking in the desert for at least an hour now. The sun was scorching hot, and much to Sokka’s delight, Y/N had taken off the top layer of her outfit, leaving her in a tank top that showed off her smooth, s/c, arms. Annoyed by the sun, Y/N took Momo off of Sokka’s back and used his wings to create some shade. Sokka, obviously annoyed because he could’ve done the same, was about to protest when he crashed into Toph. 

“Hey! Can’t you watch where you’re-” Sokka stopped his sentence after realizing what he’d said.

“No.” Toph hissed.

“Right. Sorry!” Sokka replied bashfully. Katara turned around to face the rest of the group.

“Come on guys, we’ve got to stick together!” Katara announced. During the short time Katara spoke, Sokka had accidentally stuck his clothes to Y/N, and was trying to free himself by pushing her away. Luckily for him, Y/N was trying her hardest to help him out too. 

“If Sokka sweats anymore, I don’t think it will be a problem!” Y/N shouted, struggling to get the boy off of her. Toph, who was even more annoyed, pushed Sokka to the ground, separating the two at last. 

“Katara, can I have some water?” Toph asked politely.

“Okay, but we’ve got to try to conserve it.” Katara bended four blobs of water out of her pouch into the mouths of Sokka, Toph, and Momo. When she noticed Y/N wasn’t accepting it, she asked, “Y/N? Don’t you want any?”

Y/N replied with, “I’m fine. Really.” 

“Y/N! You have to drink some! If not you’ll pass out because of dehydration!” Sokka shouted.

“Okay, dad!” Y/N groaned. She accepted the blob of water Katara had bended her way. 

Smacking his lips, Sokka said, “We're drinking your bending water. You used this on the swamp guy! Urch!” Y/N started to laugh, but ended up coughing after registering the taste of the water. Worried, Sokka patted her on the back repeatedly until she wasn’t coughing anymore. 

“It does taste swampy.” Toph giggled. Momo whined at the taste.

“I’m sorry, it’s all we have.” Katara mumbled bashfully.

“Not anymore!” Sokka shouted. “Look!” He walked over to a random cactus plant that was in their path. He cut off a piece and drank the liquid inside.

“Sokka, wait! You shouldn’t be eating strange plants!” Katara shouted with worry, running over to him. Curious, Y/N joined the two siblings. 

“There’s water trapped inside these!” Sokka shouted. He offered some to Y/N, and she took a tiny sip. She instantly felt lighter.

“I don’t know…” Katara started.

“It’s thirst quenching though! If that helps!” Y/N proclaimed. A little juice dribbled onto her chin and Sokka wiped it off. Blushing, Y/N punched Sokka again. He paid no attention to the punch as some sort of trance overtook him.

“Drink cactus juice. It'll quench ya! Nothing's quenchier. It's the quenchiest!” Katara grabbed his drink and poured it away.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough.” Katara laughed. “Y/N, will you watch him?”

“Sure!” Y/N answered, still laughing. She grabbed Sokka and lockerd their arms together so he wouldn’t get away.

“Hey pretty lady!” Sokka shouted, dragging out the ‘y’ in ‘hey’. “Are we married?”

Still laughing, Y/N replied with, “Sure. We live in Omashu, and we adopted three turtle ducks. One’s named Toph, one’s named Katara, and the last one is named Aang. Sounds nice, right?”

“Anything’s nice as long as I’m with you!” Sokka sang out with a lovestruck expression on his face. He leaned towards Y/N for a kiss, but she only shoved his head away from hers. “Who lit Toph on fire?”

-

“I'm sorry, Aang. I know it's hard for you right now but ... we need to focus on getting out of here.” Aang had recently joined the group again and Katara was trying her best to comfort the airbender. 

“What's the difference? We won't survive without Appa. We all know it.” This surprised Y/N. In the short time she had known the Avatar, he was always positive, no matter the situation. 

“Aang. If we work together, we can find Appa. Stay positive! Right Toph? Katara?” Y/N looked to the girls for affirmation.

“As far as I can feel, we're trapped in a giant bowl of sand pudding. I got nothin'.” Toph sighed. Frustrated, Y/N turned to her last resort.

“Sokka? Care to share any knowledge as to how we could reach Ba Sing Se?” Y/N was standing next to Sokka’s body, which was lying on the sand with Momo right next to him.

“Why don't we ask the circle birds?” Sokka responded nonchalantly. Groaning, Y/N looked at the sky, only to see four buzzard wasps circling above their heads. Katara grabbed her head in annoyance. 

“Ugh ... We're getting out of this desert, and we're going to do it together! Aang, get up. Everybody, hold hands. We can do this. We have to.” Katara grabbed Aang’s hand and Aang grabbed Toph’s. Katara used her other hand to grab Y/N’s and Y/N used all her strength to tug Sokka from the ground. Sokka stood up and placed Momo on his back. 

-

Y/N was sleeping peacefully next to Sokka when she was abruptly woken up by Katara shouting, “Come on, get up! We need to go.” Groaning, Toph, Y/N and Sokka all rose up from the place they decided to rest. 

“Yesterday my mouth tasted like mud. Now it just tastes like sand. I never thought I'd miss the taste of mud so much.” Y/N was going to laugh but she started coughing again, much like last time when Toph had registered the taste of the water. Sokka instinctively patted her back repeatedly while Katara went to wake up Aang.

“I’m awake,” Aang stated. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

Nodding, Katara responded to the boy with, “Well, we need to get moving if we want to get out of this sand pit.” Aang quickly sat up as he noticed a sky-bison like silhouette floating by the moon.

“Appa!” Aang shouted, trying to get it’s attention.

“Appa‌? But why would Princess Yue need him‌? She's the moon! She flies by herself!” Sokka questioned as he grabbed Y/N’s hand, using it to rub his cheek. Y/N smacked him on the head, obviously weirded out. 

“It's just a cloud.” Katara stated sadly, referring to the sky-bison-like object in the sky. “Wait! A cloud! Aang, fly up and bend the water from that cloud into my pouch.” Aang scoffed, obviously annoyed and agitated, but did as the girl said. When he landed on the ground, he threw Katara’s pouch at her. She looked in, only to be disappointed.

“Wow ... there's hardly any in here.” Aang sighed loudly.

“I'm sorry, okay! It's a desert cloud; I did all I could! What's anyone else doing?! What are you doing‌?!” Katara and Y/N were shocked. Aang had never acted like this before. Katara shook her head.

“Trying to keep everyone together. Let's just get moving. We need to head this direction.” The group walked towards the direction Katara had set them up in silence until Toph tripped and fell on her face. Worried, Y/N let go of Sokka and Katara’s hands to check up on the earthbender.

“Ow! Crud! I am so sick of not feeling where I'm going!” Toph shouted, pointing to the rock-like object she tripped on. “And what idiot buried a boat in the middle of the desert‌?”

“A boat?” Y/N asked. Katara ran over to observe the object.

“Believe me, I kicked it hard enough to feel plenty of vibrations.” By now Sokka and Aang had joined the three girls to observe the object. Aang motioned everyone to step back, and used his airbending to get rid of the sand, revealing a boat like contraption.

“It’s a glider! Like the one sandbenders use!” Y/N exclaimed. Sokka clapped his hand onto her back. 

“Look!” Katara shouted. “It's got some kind of compass on it! I bet it can point us out of here! Aang, you can bend a breeze so we can sail it. We're going to make it!”

-

The five teens had squeezed onto the glider, with Katara navigating and Aang driving it using his airbending.

“The needle on this compass doesn't seem to be pointing north according to my charts.” Katara had stated. Y/N was going to sit next to Katara to help her out, but decided not to. Sokka placed himself right next to Y/N, and grabbed her hand. 

“Take it easy little lady. I'm sure the sand folks who built this baby know how to get around here.” Y/N was obviously weirded out, but let Sokka do his thing. She didn’t want to make him angry, because in his current state, it would result in him doing something extremely annoying. 

Katara gasped. “That's what the compass is pointing to! That giant rock! It must be the magnetic center of the desert.” Y/N turned around to look at the rock that Katara was pointing to. 

Obviously ecstatic, Toph shouted, “ A rock‌?! Yes! Let's go!” Y/N just giggled.

“Maybe we can find some water there!” Katara exclaimed with a hopeful tone in her voice.

“Maybe we can find some sandbenders.” Aang snapped. He guided the glider towards the rock. 

-

“Ahhh ... Finally! Solid ground!” Toph cheered as she laid on the rock, creating a rock angel with her bending. When she was finished creating the angel, she stood up and joined the rest of the group, who were exploring a cave with a gooey substance. 

“I think my head is starting to clear out the cactus juice. And look!” Sokka shouted as he dipped his hand in the mysterious substance, earning a groan from Y/N. He licked the substance and offered some to Y/N, who kicked him in the leg in response. 

“You've been hallucinating on cactus juice all day and then you just lick something you find stuck to the wall of a cave‌?!” Y/N ranted. “Spirits, you really are dense.” Frowning, Sokka wiped the goo off his hands and placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. He whispered, “Sorry.” Y/N just nodded in response.

“I don't think this is a normal cave.” Toph stated. “This was carved by something.” 

“Yeah,” Aang agreed. “Look at the shape.”

“There's something buzzing in here. Something that's coming for us!” Toph shouted. The group ran out of the cave. Toph, Aang, and Y/N screamed as a buzzard wasp emerged from the darkness of the cave. Y/N pulled down Aang and Toph as it flew over their heads. 

Another buzzard flew between Toph and Sokka. Toph used her earth bending to launch a rock in the direction of the buzzard, and the rock nearly crushed Sokka.

“What are you doing? That rock almost crushed me!” Sokka shouted. 

“Sorry! I can’t tell where they are in the air!” Toph replied. Another wasp flew in between Sokka and Y/N. Y/N was going to hit it with one of her many throwing knives but Sokka lightly shoved her out of the way. 

“I got this one!” Sokka told her. Y/N was annoyed, but realized that there wasn’t a wasp and Sokka was still hallucinating. Figuring that it would be funny to watch him smack his machete at nothing, she moved out of the way. Sokka then swung his machete at nothing, and Y/N giggled. 

“Sokka, there’s nothing there!” Katara shouted, obviously fed up with him.

“I guess my head’s not as clear as I thought.” Sokka muttered. Y/N grabbed his arm and dragged him down to her level. 

“We have to get out of here!” Katara shouted. “I’m completely out of water to bend!” Y/N nodded, about to move with Sokka trailing behind her, when a buzzard grabbed Momo.

“Momo! I’m not losing anyone else out here!” Aang shrieked. Full of anger, he took off on his glider in hot pursuit of Momo and the wasp.

“Come on, we’re going down.” Katara told the others. Katara held Toph by the hand as they made their way down a narrow ledge. Y/N was about to make her way to the others by herself when Sokka grabbed her hand.

“Hey! You- you shouldn’t go down alone!” Sokka exclaimed. Annoyed, Y/N traversed the wall and landed on the ground with a backflip, while smiling up at Sokka. 

-

“What are you doing in our land with a sandbender sailer? ‌ From the looks of it, you stole it from the Hami tribe.” A sandbender named Sha-Mo asked Katara.

“We found the glider abandoned in the desert. We're traveling with the Avatar. Our bison was stolen and we have to get to Ba Sing Se.” Katara stated. The man’s eyes widened when he learned that Aang was the Avatar. 

“You dare accuse our people of theft while you ride in on a stolen sand sailer‌?!” Another man stated. Toph’s eyes narrowed when she heard the man speak, and Y/N frowned. 

“Quiet, Ghashiun. No one accused our people of anything. If what they say is true, we must give them hospitality.” Sha-Mo stated. 

“Sorry, father.” Ghashiun replied.

“I recognize the son's voice. He's the one that stole Appa.” Toph cautioned. Y/N’s eyes widened, and she looked at Sokka, who looked equally as confused and surprised. 

“Are you sure?” Katara asked. 

“I never forget a voice.” Toph answered. 

Aang charged forwards toward Ghashiun. “You stole Appa! Where is he? ‌What did you do to him?”

“They're lying! They're the thieves!” Ghashiun defended himself. Aang, obviously agitated, he smacked his staff on the ground, and one of the gliders flew off due to his airbending. “Where. Is. My. Bison! You tell me where he is now!”

“What did you do?” Sha-Mo asked Ghashiun.

“I-it wasn’t me!” Ghashiun tried to defend himself.

“You said to put a muzzle on him!” Toph shouted! 

“You muzzled Appa‌?” At this point, Aang was enraged. Sokka, Katara, and Y/N all looked to each other, with fear evident on their faces. Aang’s tattoos then started glowing as he entered the Avatar state. 

“I'm sorry! I didn't know that it belonged to the Avatar!” Ghashiun shouted.

“Tell me where Appa is!” Aang shouted, with the voices of all the Avatars. 

“I traded him! To some merchants! He's probably in Ba Sing Se by now! They were going to sell him there! Please! We'll escort you out of the desert! We'll help however we can!” Wind started swirling around Aang as he started floating in the air. Sokka pulled Y/N as he booked his way out of Aang’s vicinity. They finally found a spot that would keep them safe from Aang’s sandstorm and Sokka wrapped Y/N in a hug to protect her.

“Just get out of here! Run!” Y/N shouted towards the other sandbenders. Aang dropped his staff and the wind formed a sphere around him. As everyone ran away, Katara stayed put near Aang. The sandstorm engulfed the two, and they braced themselves as the whirlwind swooped over them. Katara managed to embrace Aang in a hug, causing him to calm down. Sokka lifted his arms which were wrapped safely around Y/N’s head and body. 

taglist: @emberislandplayers​ @eridanuswave​ @fandomobsessedlife​ @hopefuloperaangelnerd​ @multi-fandomstan​ @minifruity​ @marylisss​ @iflostreturntoflynnrider​

[lavalampelfchild]

Lava’s Art Masterpost

Hey, all!  Welcome to my art masterpost!  I have no idea if this is a thing that is done typically for art, but oh well, I like organizing things, so here we are!  What you’ll find here is mostly Dragon Age, with a few non-DA pieces in there, and there’s a range of styles I like to use, depending on my mood.  But a lot of what you’ll see will most likely combine lineart with some other form of coloring/shading.

Feel free to browse at your leisure, and I hope anyone who stumbles upon this enjoys what they find! :D And thank you to anyone who sees this and likes, or reblogs, or even just stops by to peruse a bit!  

All that said, away we go!

Digital Portraits:

1. Portrait of Nameless Woman, 2020 - This one is just an experiment with a watercolor brush that I did.  It’s not anatomically perfect, but I enjoyed playing around with shading.

2. Sketch of Aja Amell, 2020 - This one is basically sketch practice with my Amell~  Not really the most expressive pictures, but it’s a start toward drawing her more expressively.  Full disclosure: Aja is one of those OCs of mine that I have had trouble with deciding on a definitive appearance for several pictures, and I really want to work on upping my level of consistency when drawing her.

3. Long-Haired Fenris, 2020 - Exactly what it sounds like; this was for practice drawing Fenris’s features (I love how distinct they are), but with long hair because I am weak for it.  This one was a fun piece to shade, and mixing the stylized lineart that I normally use with a greyscale shading spectrum was really enjoyable.

4. Portrait of Ilorin Lavellan, 2016 - This is an oldie.  Basically practicing expressions, and it is technically a WIP, but I’m still very happy with how the shading turned out, especially because this is actually (aside from the unfinished hair) one of the more minimal pieces I’ve done in terms of lineart  It’s still there, and it still shapes the flow of the picture in some ways, but it also ends up flowing with the shading instead of standing out next to it, which I like.  (Both styles are good, though, and I love seeing other artists try both too.)

5. Old Portrait of Aja Amell, 2016 - Much older picture I did of Aja; she... honestly looks very little like the newer one, I think, and that consistency is something I’m still working on, but this one was the first picture of Aja with that particular hairstyle I drew.  What I like about this picture is how young she looks; it fits with her image as a fresh and sheltered Circle mage who’s only about 20 years old at the time of DAO.

6. Old Portrait of Trilyn, 2016 - They very first piece of art I posted to tumblr~ It’s not exactly how I envision Trilyn anymore, but it was still very fun to draw, and helped me get a feel for drawing him in the future. 

Dynamic Movement Pictures/”Moment’s in Time”:

1. Tabris in Arl’s Estate, 2020 - TW: blood.  I am super proud of this one.  My ultimate goal is to draw all of my Warden DAO OCs, and I could not believe I’ve never drawn my Tabris, and so here she is.  This was, in large part, practicing expressions because I absolutely love art that depicts characters in motion, or capturing some kind of expression.

2. Velyn in the Rain, 2017 - This one was actually based on some art that I saw in a Teen Wolf fic!  It was an experiment with a more expressive style (and one of the first pieces I did without lineart left in the finished version) and it was a huge step out of my comfort zone.  But overall, I am extremely happy with how it turned out.

3. Jem Nocking an Arrow, 2016 - And here is the lineart version.  This was entirely an excuse to draw my DAI baby, Jem, and to do a cool archer pose because archers are my fav, and I love characters in motion.

4. Solas Teaching Trilyn Fade Magic, 2016 - This one was a painterly picture that was also (like the Velyn picture) something which I tried to keep lineart out of.  Overall, I am proud of a lot of parts of the pic, but I think I would definitely go back over it and change a few things now if I had the patience.

5. Trilyn Closeup WIP, 2016 - TW: injury, blood, mention of abuse in the author’s note.  A lot of early pictures I have are of my OC, Trilyn, and this is one of my absolute favorites.  His entire upper body is technically in the picture, but I hadn’t finished rendering it yet, so this was what I posted.  And it was an experiment with a cross-hatching style with the pencil tool for some texture, with air brush shading and a blurring tool.  It’s a style I had fun playing around with!

6. Trilyn Blood Ritual, 2016 - TW: blood, injury (the slight cut used to supply the ritual with blood).  This one was definitely a sort of “captured moment” from a backstory I gave Trilyn, and I think what I was really going for was an atmospheric piece that could fit with any potential fic I wanted to write for Trilyn.  And then it ended up being practice for extreme lighting/shading techniques, and drawing the blood and the gross mass of demon ichor (or whatever the heck that is) turned out to be highlights of making the piece for me.

Art + Text:

1. Freedom and Control, 2020 - TW: scars, but very difficult to see.  This one was ambitious for me!  It started originally just as Solas and my Tal-Vashoth OC, Saara, facing each other, because I love the dynamic I’ve built for them in my head, but then it turned into an attempt at a tarot-esque background, and just sorta grew from there... Overall, I’m happy with how it turned out, especially with how Solas and Saara themselves turned out.  The version you can actually see a larger view is here.  

2. Marianna and Delia Codex and Art, Pt. 1, 2020 - I love writing my own codex entries, first off, and I love combining art with text to create a (hopefully) seamless work.  This work was an attempt to flesh out these OCs of mine with both art (because unique facial structures are hard for me to get down, but so important regardless) and text (because writing~).  I think it turned out well overall, but there are elements of the portraits that I might at some point touch up a bit.

3. Marianna and Delia Codex and Art, Pt. 2, 2020 - Part 2, with what I refer to as a “DAI Outfit Change” because I have always loved seeing fans show their own OCs as they look in DAO, DA2, and then finally DAI.  So I absolutely wanted to jump on that bandwagon myself.  The skin tones are a little off (and I’m sorry about that!) because I was playing with the watercolor brush at that point, and it dilutes the colors I use.  Still working to figure that out, but I was very happy with the overall lineart and structures of the faces.

4. Alistair/Aja Amell Picture with a Blurb, 2017 - Ooooold, old, old, old, OLD!  I still love the art, and I’m soooo happy with how the interaction between Alistair and Aja turned out (drawing kisses is extremely difficult for me; I always end up creating a distorted weird lip-creature, instead of realistically puckered lips...).  I’m not as happy with the blurb that went with it?  At that point, I was still very much figuring out my own DAO worldstate, and the characterization for everyone, so, eh.  Take it with a grain of salt!

Unfinished Costume Designs:

1. Ancient Elvhen Armor with Dwarven Influence, 2018 - People who do costume design work are amazing and mystical beings, and I wish I could do what they do.  This was an attempt at merging the Keeper robes from DAI with a more dwarven armor aesthetic, solely because I created an ancient elvhen character, Ceda, who was taken in by the Cad’halash dwarves mentioned in the Witch Hunt dlc, and I wanted this character to have a mix of the elven style of armor and the dwarven style.  I’m overall decently happy with it, but there’s still that persistent level of self-criticism present.

2. Herald of Andraste Outfit WIP, 2016 - This was a very old picture, not one I showed around a lot, but the idea for this was entirely born of my intense interest in how fashion and outfit designs could be used to create a symbolic image for the Herald of Andraste.  In general, I love the combination of ceremonial armor with long and flowing cloth, so that was what I went for here.  I’m still actually very proud of how this came out, and headcanon something similar for my Herald in my canon DAI worldstate.

Pencil Sketches:

1. Quick Saara Sketch, 2019 - TW: saarebas mouth scars.  Exactly what it says; very quick sketch of Saara I did in a small notebook I carry around with me.  This was basically a test for myself to see if I could manage to draw Saara with the features and facial structure I envisioned for her without needing to use a lot of references.

2. Mass Effect Character Sketch; Jesse, 2018 - Similar reason for drawing this one as the above Saara sketch!  With these characters, I love sometimes the way they can turn out with the specific character creator used for them, and when I draw them, I enjoy trying to create a definitive look for them using what I get from the CC, and my own knowledge of Hooman Faces.

3. Saara Sketch, 2017 - TW: saarebas mouth scars.  A more detailed sketch of Saara than the one above, and one I definitely put more time into overall.  It’s currently the profile picture I’m using for ao3, and is the definitive go-to reference picture I use whenever imagining Saara in a fic, or for other Saara pics I make.  I am extremely proud of this picture, and feel like I should work in graphite more often.  It’s such fun, and the texture is so nice to look at.

4. Sketch of Nameless Alamarri Woman, 2017 - This was a sketch I did of what I envisioned some Alamarri tribes to look like; I used artistic depictions of Gaul tribes and hairstyles for inspiration, and have used this as a go-to reference for my version of Alamarri tribes.  Nothing super notable about this one, but I really liked the way the shape of her face turned out.

Events and Gifts:

1. Another Scar, 2020 - TW: blood, injuries, gore.  The most recent piece of art on the list, and a gift for @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold; featuring sisterly love between Rica and fem!Brosca, which was her requested prompt.  This was a tough piece for me because of the difficulty with the lighting I dealt with.  For some reason, that one particular element of it gave me so much trouble.  Overall, I’m very happy with how it turned out, though, especially the skin tones of the sisters; Brosca I always sort of like as having this greyish, more gaunt look to her, while Rica I like seeing with a darker, richer, and warmer tone to her.  

2. A Very Cousland Christmas!, 2019 - This was for a holiday exchange for a server, and I drew a friend’s Cousland (Elissa, the girl on the left) with my Cousland (Gazza, the girl on the right).  I love kid-fic, and I love kid-art, and so I decided... baby Cousland art!  Drawing kid proportions was the toughest part, I recall, and I thiiiink it turned out well, and I’m still quite proud of it overall.  Elissa’s design came entirely from my friend, but I added the holly~

3. Exchange Gift with Dis Brosca and Mabari, 2018 - This was an exchange gift for @fanfoolishness, using her lovely Dis Brosca, and was my first real attempt at backgrounds... I struggled with the coherence of the foreground and background a bit, but I’m still very proud of how it turned out, especially with the colors I had to work with.  What I also really enjoyed working with was the lighting and the expression on Dis’s face.  Backlit subjects are always fun to play around with!

4. Inktober Picture, “Deep”, 2017 - TW: scars, injury, mentions of abuse in the author’s note/attached dialogue snippets.  This was for an Inktober prompt (the only one I’ve ever done, sadly... because I am bad with deadlines...), and again features Trilyn.  Trilyn’s backstory has him a former slave in Tevinter, and a lot of the early works I do for him are sort of deep-dives into his life there.  It’s all meant to be an exploration of the things he endures, and then those moments when he overcomes it all and takes back his own autonomy and self.  This art is definitely provocative, and I can understand if not everyone likes it, but to me, I just wanted to show just what he faces (without glorifying it) before showing the moment of his own triumph.

5. Christmas Holiday Picture with my Brosca and a Friend’s Amell, 2017 - This was a piece of art drawn first by a friend of mine, @nanahuatli~  She drew the Amell, the background, the mistletoe, etc.  All I did was add my Brosca to the mix to finish the image.  It was a lot of fun to do, 1) because it was fun trying to match her style so that the picture looked cohesive, 2) because I love doing collabs with friends, and 3) because it was just such a fun thing to imagine my surly short Brosca, looking at this weird plant/fungus/thing dangling over some puckering human!  It was an absolute joy to do this collab with her!  

6. OC Kiss Week Pic of Jem and Saara, 2017 - TW: saarebas mouth scars.  A spur-of-the-moment thing meant to demonstrate just what kind of dynamic my OC, Jem, has with my other OC, Saara (both of whom are members of Leliana’s network in DAI).  This was a very quick picture (deadlines...) and was mostly just to have fun drawing these two characters interacting, and to see if I could make them look like themselves.  I think I did a decent job with it overall, especially with Jem’s kissy-face!  (Again... drawing kisses are the bane of my existence, although hands and feet take a close second.)

[nearlymanaged]

4. Remus’ Secret

It had been a couple of weeks since Sirius had come out to his friends, but Moony still hadn’t flung himself into his arms, confessing unbridled attraction. If anything, he seemed more distant now. Almost as distant as he used to get every month before Sirius, James, and Peter found out about his furry little secret. They did have quite different schedules this year that sometimes caused them to not run into each other for half a day, but Remus’ strange coldness seemed to go beyond that.

Sirius was starting to feel a little hurt, thinking that maybe Remus wasn’t as okay with him being bisexual as he claimed, so he confronted him about it one evening in the common room. It turned out to be a rather anticlimactic exchange since Remus assured him, quite convincingly, that it was completely ridiculous of Sirius to even think that. He said he was simply tired all the time since they had come back to Hogwarts and then made some stupid joke about being ready for death to take him.

This particular evening he seemed perfectly energised and happy while doing homework with Evans in the corner of the common room. Sirius was sitting in one of the prime armchairs in front of the fireplace with James and Peter, and if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with repeatedly stealing glances at Moony and Evans, he would have seen that James was doing the same thing.

“Since when is Moony such good friends with Evans?” Peter unknowingly voiced what they were all thinking when the sound of Remus and Lily’s laughter filled the room momentarily.

“Nerd solidarity, I suppose,” Sirius mumbled, watching Remus push the sleeves of his jumper up, seemingly oblivious to how unexpectedly attractive that was.

“I never realised Ancient Runes homework was that much fun,” James mumbled, pouting slightly.

“Are you jealous, Prongs?” Sirius asked, a tickled grin spreading across his face.

“Aw, he is! Prongs is jealous!” Cackled Peter.

Just then, Remus walked over to them, still beaming. “Prongs is…” He glanced back at Lily over his shoulder. “Prongs is jealous?”

“No, I’m not,” James folded his arms over his chest, which didn’t help make his statement any more convincing.

“How curious,” Remus said brightly and made himself comfortable on the couch next to Peter while Sirius draped himself across the armchair, his head hanging off the side.

“D’you know what? I’m jealous too.” He looked over at Remus with a smirk.

“That’s messed up, Sirius. Lily’s the mother of James’ future children.”

“Who said anything about Evans?” Sirius locked eyes with Remus, that same smile still playing on his lips. For a second, Black thought he saw Moony blush, but he couldn’t tell whether it was just the flickering fire light playing tricks. Moony scrunched his eyebrows and turned away to point at the notice board.

“Did you lot see that? Hogsmeade dates have been posted.”

“Yeah, first one’s in a couple of weeks.” Peter nodded. “I’ve thought about this, and I think the best thing for me to do is ask Lydia if she wants to meet up in Three Broomsticks. Then she won’t feel like she has to spend the whole day with me...but if she wanted to, she could.”

“Wormtail.” Sirius impatiently propped himself back up. “Why wouldn’t she want to spend the day with you? You need to have more confidence, mate.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“No, it’s not. You think it was easy for me to listen to my dear mother list all the ways in which I’m a disappointment for years?”

“I didn’t mean--”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just saying, you can’t please everyone, but you can’t let that get to you. Lydia seems pretty interested in you, and even if it doesn’t work out in the end, well...c'est la vie,” Sirius ended his little pep talk with a shrug and Peter went back to his essay, looking slightly more bewildered than before.

“Anyway,” Remus enunciated slowly. “Perfect timing, I have just about enough chocolate to last me two weeks.”

* * *

The heavy clouds above the castle seemed to be turning a darker shade of grey every day, and the sixth years were becoming more and more stressed with every lesson. Now that Remus had positively become friends with Lily Evans, he was thanking his lucky stars for it. He strongly suspected he might have lost his mind without someone to do Ancient Runes homework with.

He also noticed that Lily didn’t mind being in James’ immediate vicinity as much anymore, and James in turn had halted his incessant hitting on her for the time being. Remus had also noticed that Sirius hadn’t been spotted snogging or asking anyone out in quite a while; in fact, it hadn’t happened once since the beginning of term. He couldn’t help but harbour a secret hope that it would go on indefinitely and then he wouldn’t have to pretend that seeing Sirius with someone else didn’t bother him.

Although realistically, he didn’t really count on that. Especially since Sirius had come out about being bisexual. That just meant that now Sirius could choose out of twice the amount of people who were more attractive than his boring old friend.

Still, Remus could not refrain from coming up with imaginary scenarios in his head, in which Sirius would ask him out or confess his feelings for him, or kiss him… Initially, completely against his own will, Remus let his hopes go up just a tiny bit (that’s when the daydreaming started in full force), so he started avoiding Padfoot as a means of self preservation. That hadn’t lasted very long though, because Sirius interpreted that as Remus having a problem with him and confronted him about it...

This particular morning, a few days before the Hogsmeade trip, saw the castle brutally whipped by ice-cold rain. It was looking like their Saturday was going to be spent sipping butterbeer indoors instead of wandering around the village.

“You’ve got jam on your face, did you know?” Sirius grabbed a napkin without missing a beat, leaned over the breakfast-laden table, and dabbed the corner of Remus’ mouth. “There you go, skip along now, my love.”

Remus, who had just announced that he needed to leave to make it to Ancient Runes on time, felt his ears go ablaze, the colour spreading to his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why it startled him so much. Surely, Sirius would have done the same to either James or Peter, wouldn’t he have? That was just how he was. “Right,” Remus cleared his throat, gathering his composure. “I’ll see you lot at lunch then.”

“Wait up, Lupin!” Lily caught up with him in the middle of the entrance hall. “So I’ve noticed…” She began brightly, yet hesitantly but then trailed off. “Are...are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, what do you mean…” Remus tried to sound normal, very aware that he was still blushing. “What have you noticed?”

“Nothing. How did you get on with the Einang stone essay?”

They talked about their homework all the way to the sixth floor, but Remus couldn’t shake off the feeling that Lily was going to say something about the scene at breakfast. He wasn’t even sure that Peter and James had noticed it, but he had gathered by now that Lily was a lot more perceptive than most people. Plus, she kept giving him strange looks all throughout the Ancient Runes lesson and then it continued on the very windy grounds (it had stopped raining), during Care of Magical Creatures.

“Obviously, you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to, but...” Lily began, her voice ever so gentle, while they were making detailed sketches of fwoopers with notes about all their magical properties. “But can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask, yes.”

“Do you like boys?”

Remus stared at her with a mixture of surprise and horror, until he felt a sharp pain in his hand - he had squeezed the little bird he was using for reference so tightly that it pecked at his flesh angrily. “Why-- Why do you ask?” He tried to sound politely surprised as he shook his hand in the air.

“Please don’t get upset with me,” Lily was gazing at him tentatively with her brow furrowed now. “I’ve noticed a while ago now, sometime last year… And then lately, since you and I... I couldn’t help it, really. I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think that no one’s watching…”

Remus felt a strange mixture of his heart sinking and feel lighter all at once. Now that someone else knew, it felt like that would make it easier to carry this secret around, somehow. He blankly stared at his half finished sketch for a moment before speaking in a low, determined voice. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“You have my word.”

“Not that it matters anyway,” he added before he could stop himself.

“How do you mean? Is it because you’ve been friends for so long?”

“Well that too, but… I mean, look at me,” he laughed out uncomfortably rather with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, I am…?”

“I’m about as exciting as Binns’ lessons, with a sweet bonus of ugly scars.”

Remus was surprised by how open he was with Lily. Curiously, it was really easy to talk to her about it. He’d shared so many secrets, confessions, and pains with his three friends, that sometimes he felt like he had maxed out, like he didn’t want to trouble them with any more of his problems. But it was different with Lily, perhaps because they were just becoming friends.

“I don’t think that about you at all, if you care to know,” she informed him, a strange spark lighting up her eyes. “I’ve grown to like you a lot lately and I can objectively say that you are tenfold better than what you seem to think about yourself.”

“You’re only saying that because you thought my friends and I were enormous pricks for years,” Remus smirked at her, feeling his heart grow to twice its size in his chest. “That’s a low bar.”

“Thought?” Lily grinned devilishly, making them both laugh. “Seriously, the more I’m getting to know you, the more I feel like maybe your friends can’t be all that awful after all. You are a beautiful person, Remus. You are!” She added when he rolled his eyes again.

“Sure, Evans.”

“I’ve heard he’s into boys too.” Lily ignored Lupin’s retort and then her face split into an excited smile.

Remus rolled his eyes once more… And yet, he couldn’t help but feel happier and lighter for the rest of the day, even when it started raining again towards the end of Cary of Magical Creatures.