#i tried to get it as close to the style of everyone else's portraits but it's too hard to shake off my own art style lmao

[edwardbonnets]

decided to give the "draw your own inky icons" a try now that i know how to mod the game myself 😌🌸✨

[baura-bear]

I just want to write out all the little details I noticed about newsies because they played a big part in what made the show amazing. I tried not to mention stuff I’ve seen in other posts and focus on more specific moments and interactions I liked but also I liked it all so there are a lot. Enter at your own risk I suppose? also this is a conglomerate of the three shows I saw (I sat in Manhattan, Flushing, and Brooklyn)

Act One!

These boys genuinely appear OUT OF NOWHERE?? I was sitting in Manhattan watching Race and suddenly SPECS IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME SINGING IN MY FACE

HENRY SWINGING IN?? people have called it a zipline but it’s more like he’s doing a Tarzan swing in

throughout the entire show there are boys sleeping every where between numbers

Santa Fe (Prologue)

Jack has drawings pinned up all over the penthouse!! a few of them were close ups of faces or full body portraits (I couldn’t see them all)

Crutchies “No I wanna go down” line is so much sassier (let’s be honest Matthew Duckett’s Crutchie is 10x more chaotic than any I’ve ever seen) instead of rushing through it it’s more like “No. I want to go down” *points at ladder to emphasize*

“Hop a palomino you’re ridin’ in style!” :DD

Crutchie whistles to wake up the newsies and it was so loud 

Things I noticed in Carrying the Banner (and there is a lot)

when it’s first starting and a few of the boys are still up in Brooklyn Jojo dropped his hat so Mike picked it up and put it on top of his hat then shared a laugh with me and saluted before Jojo ran by and stole his hat back

“ Hey look! It’s bath time at the zoo!” *cue Henry really aggressively scratching his crotch then cleaning his face with same towel* 

“Who asked you!?” Someone slingshots a newspaper at Albert and it’s supposed to hit him but one night it flew into the audience so Albert turned around and said something like “I’m so sorry about him”

“Any banker bum or barber!” I couldn’t tell who but one newsies goes behind Specs and accidentally chokes him with a towel (pretending to be  a barber)

When they’re all just being boys!!! Henry and a few other newsies play cards, Tommy Boy plays soccer with a wad of newspapers as a ball and Jojo, Splasher and one other newsie play jump rope (Splasher does a backflip while doing so, Ross Dorrington supremacy)

At one point Tommy Boy sits on the front of the stage and lights a match just to watch it burn? he was very entranced by the fire I will say

“waitin’ makes me antsy” line is actually directed at the nuns which I never realized until watching this

“Though you wander lost and afraid” idk if Jamie D-C’s newsie has a name but he nods and says “I am always wandering” while Tommy Boy very proudly shows his cross to the nuns 

“All I can catch is fleas” then proceeds to pick one off say “Ooo!! A juicy one!” and throw it at another newsie

While Crutchie is handing out papers he is an absolute menace “PAPER PAPER WHO WANTS ONE?!!!!” then proceeds to throw it on people in Brooklyn who aren’t even looking at him (they were very confused, by the time they looked back to see where it had come from he was gone) He threw his paper at everyone and then saw me (in Crutchie cosplay) and very politely handed it to me “here you go! :)” LMAO

While Jack’s running from the Delancey’s Crutchie yells “Run Jackie!!”

wheeee slide

DAVEY!!! 

Ryan Kopel his embodiment of Davey is *chefs kiss* very fidgety: tapping thumbs together, wringing hands, rubbing fingers together, wiping hands on pants/balling the fabric of his pants up in his hands. His hands are always either tensed or moving no matter where they are. has a habit of putting his hands behind his back (and looking collected) but that boy is still fidgeting

Crutchie death stares Davey which makes him look back (to make sure Crutchie isn’t looking at someone else) and then awkwardly shuffle around him (keeping eye contact at all times) as he and Les try to get into line

Morris takes Davey’s 20th pape and hides it behind his back before handing it back to Oscar

Race blows smoke into Davey’s face and I wish I had a video of Davey’s reaction cause oh my god

As everyone is trying to convince Davey to sell with Jack Davey is hugging his newspapers to his chest like his life depends on keeping them safe 

the way Davey says “that’s dizz-guhsting”

After Specs and Splasher get their papes they run off stage to the stairs between Woodside and Flushing “Hiya Splasher! anything good?” “Hey Specs!” then they read the paper together and it’s very sweet

Bottom Line

Pulitzer is scary I will build on this for act two but that man can yell

also his office is held up by newspapers and I really loved that detail (also newsies push it onto the stage very  ✨symbolic ✨)

“Football. VIOLENT?!”

Bottom Line has never been one of my top songs (and still isn’t) but I really liked it in this production Cameron Blakely has an amazing voice (they all do) and I just really loved the way this song sounded 

Also Bobbie’s Hannah is very much anti-Pulitzer and it makes the character very funny. like she realizes he’s a man with power and is intimidated by him but she definitely sides with the newsies more it’s very funny

Davey tries selling papes to the audience “buy a paper? anyone want a paper? oh- no not for you.” sir you can’t be picky with your customers

“Buy a pape from a poor orphan boy?” Davey rushes forward saying “Oh, no! he’s not a-” and Jack runs up and turns Davey around and walks him away from Les

Les and Davey interactions overall are so pure and sweet. Davey constantly has his himself wrapped around Les from behind, hugging him or holding onto his shoulders. He also looks absolutely astounded by Les, 200% of the time it’s just Davey watching Les like :O

“Come home with us? Uh- I mean- for dinner!” Davey. Why else would Jack have gone home with you  🤔🤔🤔🤔

Medda’s theater

When Davey notice’s Les looking at the Bowery beauties he’s so embarrassed good lord. He’s so jumpy and he gives the beauties a very quick apologetic look (very hesitant to look at them) and says “thatstheircostume!!” turning Les around away from them. 

The beauties put a feather in Les’ hat. 

Specs is helping set up the theater and completely drops the backdrop on Medda’s theater worker 

“Take it easy it’s a bunch of trees” Davey jumps in very quickly and eagerly “NO you’re really!!... I mean- uh... you’re really good” Ryan Kopel was successful in making Davey the gayest boy on this planet

While Les and Davey watch the show Ryan did not even try to sit like a straight person. First show he was sitting side-saddle with his hands laying on top of one another on his thigh like a freaking disney princess, second show he was crisscross with his hands clasped together, last show he was on his knees with his palms together like praying hands in between his knees 

boys at the front of the stage fight over which one Medda’s referring to (”she was talking to me!!” “no she was talking to me!!”) Tommy Boy then turns around and high fives another newsie

I never planned on you Jack literally crawls over Katherine’s lap, basically sitting on her for a brief moment to get to the other side of the box

Strike

“they got a mother? I was gonna get me one of those” the way Race says it is much more resentful rather than playful and he actually glares at Davey

during the formation of the strike Davey tries to hold back Les from joining the other boys when Les runs of Davey tries to grab him but obviously doesn’t succeed and instead he takes a few steps back, turning away from the strike and is very tense/fidgety as he hears them talk about what to do

when Jack asks Davey who tells Pulitzer there’s a really long pause and he clearly doesn’t want to give in to the strike “I- I guess... you do... Mr. President” almost annoyed that he’s letting himself give in

“Who wants Brooklyn?” Crutchie hides in his hat and holds his cross up towards Jack to ward him off

when Katherine enters and her and Jack have their little back-and-forth all the newsies are jeering and oohing and awing but Davey doesn’t have reactions like that he’s really carefully watching Katherine like he’s trying to figure her out (or maybe he’s just jealous about Jack ._.)

“me thinks the lady needs to be handled by a” snaps suspenders “real man”

When Davey says “I’d say we save any exclusive for a real reporter” it’s actually off to the side with Jack and he’s clearly trying to make it so that Katherine can’t hear (he looks at Katherine then back to Jack and kind of whispers ‘real reporter’)

End of Act One

unfortunately Crutchie does not say fuck he says folks 

Newsies zoom in on Katherine’s swivel chair and she thanks them :)

while Jack is tryng to persuade the scabs one of the is fully crying with tears running down his cheeks and you can’t tell because he’s staring at the ground hiding under his hat until the last second he looks up to the sky and then decides to throw his paper down(I couldn’t tell who it was but it wasn’t Splasher and it wasn’t Tommy Boy so if anyone knows who the third scab is, it was them... It might’ve been Buttons??)

Crutchie also starts tearing up a this point and pulls out his rosary to say a prayer

I haven’t really seen anyone talk about this but there’s a part in Seize the Day (I think.... it might’ve been in the world will know I forget) where all the newsies run up and form a triangle and yell out their names. It starts with Jack and Davey, Jack is very sure of himself and yells out his name at center stage then Davey looks around, runs up to join Jack, looks at Jack to see what to do then takes off his hat, does a little straightening tie motion and sheepishly says “Davey”

Les ascends

Matthew Duckett really loves ripping your heart out. Coughing as he’s dragged off. He calls out to Finch and another newsie to help but when he realizes it’s futile and hears Jack call his name he yells for Jack to run instead of save him

SANTA FE GOOD LORD the windows behind Jack light up yellow to make the moon of Santa Fe and it has an amazing effect especially if you’re in the middle aisle of the theater.

Act Two!!

before act two even began when I was in Flushing I could hear them tapping backstage and it made me very happy

King Of New York

The energy of KoNY is so insane that every single time I saw it by then end I was grinning and giggling so much so that I completely forgot letter to the refuge until Crutchie is sat on stage and I went from :D to o_o in a split second

“In the pape and you ain’t even dead!”

I’m sure everyone knows by now that they swing on the lamps and pretend the tables are cars but I don’t know if you’ve been told how terrifying it is to be front row during KoNY because one wrong move and you will get a tap foot in the face. Where I was sat for two performances I had Damon and Matt swinging over me and it is exhilarating but all I could think is if I stand up rn I would get knocked out. 

Race goes over to Davey and turns his hat sideways

when everyone’s clearing the chairs and tables at the end Race yelled “‘Ey Specs!” and pointed to a chair and Specs replied “The numbers over I can do what I want!” and I just thought that fourth wall break was funny 

Letter From the Refuge

“Cause so far they ain’t brung us no food” there was particularly loud laughter from Woodside so Crutchie turned towards them and said “heh, thanks,” then wrote down “ha. ha.”

Mike sleeping with his head in Jojo’s lap

Specs comes to take the letter from Crutchie and then Mike helps Crutchie off stage (he falls on his way off and has a coughing fit why does Matthew insist on destroying me)

Watch What happens (Reprise)

Davey is so bouncy and so much looser and just like you can really tell he has been fully accepted into the newsies inner circle it’s so cute I love it so much oh my god

“there’s no escaping us pal! we. are.” punches air “inevitable!”

when Davey tells everyone that Jack’s painting is of Santa Fe Jack looks like he doesn’t want Davey to tell anyone which I think is really interesting. Like Jack has almost reserved this dream of Santa Fe to those closest and he doesn’t want anyone else getting too close?? idk it was just a really interesting look 

Bottom Line (Reprise)

Pulitzer’s “Sit” isn’t directed towards Katherine and instead is directed towards Snyder, Katherine actually runs off behind the scaffolding and watches the scene unfold while she’s hidden away

JACK IS SO COCKY I LOVE HIM

*sing songy* “He’s asked to see you” with funky lil’ finger pointing

Jack dusting off Pulitzers steps to sit down

“And if they know me. THEY KNOW I DON’T CARE!!!! MARK MY WORDS BOY” like I said,,,,, Pulitzer is very scary.

Brooklyn’s Here/Strike Rally

BROOKLYN GIRLSIESSS!!!!

I love them so much

when Davey goes up to speak after everyone’s chanting for Jack he gulps and looks around and says “ohmygod” quietly to himself and lets out a little nervous laugh as he realizes how many boys are staring at him

As Jack tries to persuade the newsies to disband the union Davey tries to stop him multiple times “Jack please- Jack. Stop-” and while everyone gets mad at Jack, Davey is almost trying to defend him and talk him out of it. that is until Jack pushes Les to the floor and Davey grabs him, turning Jack around by the shoulder “What are you doing Jack??” and points at Les on the ground before helping him up and running off away from Jack

Mack holds Spot back from probably killing Jack

The rest of the show because I don’t have enough notes to separate by song at this point

Jack and Katherine’s hug during something to believe in enough to make me start shipping Jatherine

During once and for all Katherine and Jack hold hands and Jack puts a hand on Davey’s shoulder while they sing the first little part and at one point Jack grabs Davey’s arm and pulls him in but on the last performance Michael missed Ryan’s arm completely and instead succeeded in pulling him in by the waist (the Javey shipper in me was screaming)

when they’re throwing the banners to each other Romeo fumbled and almost dropped a stack and when I tell you I nearly had a heart attack watching him try to keep it going 

“These kids put out a pretty good paper!” Hannah goes over to Pulitzer and see’s he’s not impressed so quickly changes route to hide by Bunsen 

“Guys like Joe don’t talk to nobodies like us” they’re sitting on the desk together very close to each other jack has an arm around Davey and Davey tilts his head and gives Pulitzer the sweetest smile

When jack shakes hands with Roosevelt Davey’s eyes go wide and he puffs up his cheeks, restraining himself from rushing over but when Jack turns around he runs up and Jack has to push him back a little as they both try to act normal 

“Oh please your highness!” small group of newsies at the front of the stage giggle to each other

“What’s Santa Fe got that New York Ain’t? Sandstorms?”

a small interaction I loved was at the end while Katherine and Jack are talking about Jack’s next plans: Crutchie, Davey and Les are all reading a newspaper together and they all look so confused, pointing at a certain article and talking amongst themselves trying to figure out what it means. Crutchie’s holding the paper too high so Les stands on his tip toes to see it which prompts Crutchie to tilt it down for him

Katherine gets a newsies cap!

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (2)

I’ve always known that Saltburn was huge - Venetia had never even tried to pretend that she wasn’t insanely rich and lived in basically a castle - but I didn’t understand just how huge it was until I’m standing in front of it, travel bag in hand as the driver slows to a stop in front of the massive oak doors. 

“Jesus, V…” I say, eyes locked on the monstrous house. Suddenly I feel very small, and wish that I’d just stuck to my guns and fought harder to go home. I don’t know this place - nor do I know these people, outside of Venetia. But I’m already here, so I swallow my nerves and get out of the car when the driver opens the door. I almost reach back into the car to grab my bags before Venetia stops me. 

“Don’t worry about those, the footmen will bring them up.” She says, grabbing my hand and tugging me towards the house. “You have to meet everyone, and I’ll show you around - I asked Mum to tell the maids to set you up in the room across the hall from mine, so we’ll be close.” Excitement exudes from her like sweat, and it’s a little infectious - I find myself grinning as we bound up the front steps together. 

The massive doors open, revealing a stoic looking man in a butler’s uniform. “Venetia. Welcome home.”

“Yes, hello Duncan.” Venetia chirps. “So wonderful to see you again - how have you been?” She asks, still holding my hand. “Oh- this is my friend, Evie- I don’t know if Mum told you that she was coming along-”

The butler - Duncan - nods. “Yes of course, all the staff was informed - welcome as well, Miss Evelyn.”

The use of my full name - and the formal ‘Miss’ attached make the feeling that I don’t belong here even stronger. “Oh, um, thank you. You don’t have to bother with that ‘Miss’ stuff - just Evie is fine.”

Duncan nods again, just as stiffly as before. “Of course.” He steps just outside of the frame of the doors, and sweeps an arm forward, silently welcoming us in. Hands still clasped with mine, Venetia leads me inside with a smile. 

The inside of the house is just as lavish as the outside, though I don’t have much time to take it all in as Venetia tugs me along. There’s too much to see - portraits and sculptures and rare books and antique furniture, all interspersed with the kind of clutter that you could find in any home. It’s a little jarring but I don’t give it too much thought, too busy being pulled along by Venetia. 

“Mum and Dad are likely in the library.” She says. “I really think Mum will be so glad to meet you, she’s always gone on about how anyone I want to bring back here is more than welcome - she’ll be so excited.”

I feel out of place here, sure, but I’ve never seen Venetia so happy. I think I was right in assuming that she was a little jealous of her brother bringing home a new friend every summer - and maybe a little pressured to do the same, if what she’s saying about her mom is true. I’m happy to be here for her, if nothing else, and that feeling is enough to force the strangeness of being at Saltburn aside. 

It turns out the library isn’t much of a library at all, as Venetia slows to a stop in what seems to be more of a living room than a study. A large couch takes up the center of the room, facing a TV against the wall. Sprawled on the couch is an elegant woman with long blonde hair, and the kind of face you’d find in a magazine. I can see bits of Venetia in her face - the sharpness of her cheekbones, the slope of her nose. Venetia’s mother. 

Next to her, a woman smokes a cigarette, dressed head to toe in black. Her bright red hair and heavy eye makeup seem almost like a mask for the rest of her face, her style distracting anyone from looking too close. The way she sits on the couch, perched all the way at the edge, makes me think that she also might be like me - a guest. 

In the back of the room, perched at a table by one of the windows, an older man leafs through a newspaper, reading glasses perched on his nose. I can see some of Venetia in him too - the way he purses his lips as he reads, how his foot gently swings back and forth where he’s crossed his legs. 

Venetia’s mother is the first to notice our arrival, leaping up from the sofa with outstretched arms. “Oh, Venetia darling, you’re home!” 

Venetia drops my hand in favor of hugging her mother. I stand to the side as they embrace, and the other woman on the couch smiles at me. I return the gesture. 

“And you’ve brought a friend, oh how lovely!” Venetia’s mother turns to me. “I’m Elspeth, you must be Evelyn…” Her gaze sweeps down, and then back up to my face. “Venetia neglected to mention how beautiful you are, my…” She runs a hand along the side of my head, sweeping up one of the shorter curls that frame my face. “What beautiful hair… and you’re so gorgeously tan, darling, what are you?”

It takes me a moment to register exactly what she’s asking, and for a moment I simply look at her. “My family’s Italian.” I say. “Well- American, but Italian.”

“That explains it then - Italian, how romantic.” She says. “Before I met James, one of my girlfriends was Italian - I was a lesbian for a while, you know - Sofia, her name was. Gorgeous, gorgeous woman. Bit of a gambling problem but oh, how pretty.” 

She retreats back to the sofa, taking her place in the middle of the cushions again, but not sprawling this time. Elspeth pats the spaces on either side of her and smiles. “Come sit down, my sweets, there’s so much catching up we have to do - oh, Evelyn this is a dear friend of mine, Pamela, who’s been staying with us for a while, and that there is my husband James, doing the crossword.”

At the mention of his name, James looks up from his paper. “Does anyone have a six letter word for ‘poor’?” 

“Six letter word for poor…” Elspeth muses. 

“Poor’s only got four letters.” Pamela chimes in, cigarette smoke hovering in a haze around her head. 

I trade a look with Venetia, and she stifles a grin as she plops down on the sofa next to her mother. 

“In need?” I offer aloud. It’s technically two words but six letters…

I watch as James pencils in the letters from the couch. “In need, yes that works perfectly.” He says. “Thank you, erm…” He trails off as he looks up from his page at me. 

“Evelyn.” Elspeth adds. 

“Evelyn, yes.” He says. “Clever, that.” He peers over the top of his glasses at me, silently assessing for a moment, and then smiles. “How splendid that Venetia brought a friend along.”

I smile at him before Elspeth steals my attention again, a gentle hand coming to rest on my thigh. “And where in America are you from, my dear?”

“New York.” I say. “Brooklyn.” 

Over her mother’s shoulder I watch Venetia mouth ‘New Yawk’ with a teasing grin. 

“Oh, yes, I’ve been to the city once or twice - Manhattan, mostly, - but I’ve heard that Brooklyn is full of creatives.” Elspeth says. 

“Um,” I can’t help but think of my friends from NYU, who thought it was a great idea to name their band Chlamydiot. “Yeah.”

“Evie’s family’s got mafia ties.” Venetia chimes in, pulling a cigarette from the box that lives in her pocket and tucking it between her lips. My own lips fall into a thin line. I’d known Venetia was going to bring it up at some point, it’s her favorite party trick of mine-

“Oh really?” Elspeth/s eyebrows shoot upward, and she looks excitedly towards Pamela. “Now that’s something - like your Russian billionaire, Pamela, isn’t that right? Except, the Russian mafia, of course.”

“Yes, I think that’s right.” Pamela says. She pauses. “Though I’m not quite sure what the Russian word for mafia is…”

Elspeth turns back towards me, with a large smile. “Tell me more about that, darling!”

“It’s not - we’re not in the mafia.” I say, a little embarrassed under all the sudden attention. I glance towards Venetia, and she smiles, proud, like she’s showing off a prized pony. “My grandfather, on my mom’s side, was, uh - he was the head of the Giordano family, but then he got assassinated in his living room and the Giordano family got absorbed into the Barbieri family.”

“In the living room, you say?” James perks up from his crossword. “And is the house still-?”

“My parents still live in that house, yeah.” I say. 

“How ghastly!” Elspeth says, in a tone that seems to say she doesn’t think it’s ghastly at all, but rather exciting. 

I glance again at Venetia, but her focus is locked on her mother, absorbing every reaction she gives as she puffs on her cigarette. I’d had a hunch that she asked me here to show off to her family, to say ‘look, I do have friends’, but this confirms it. I’m not surprised, nor am I upset - to be friends with Venetia Catton is to be an accessory, but a loved accessory at that. Right now, I am her favorite pair of Louboutin heels, and in return, I will get to experience what it’s like to be part of her, to be here at Saltburn, to get a taste of this lavish life she leads. 

And I am fine with that. 

< previous part | next part >

[howtotrainyouragents]

for the ask game: toph from atla? thanks! <3

Yayy, thank you so much for asking!! TOPH, my OG fave. I always love her rough-and-tumble self, but I'm feeling particularly soft about her lately, so let's go:

Soft headcanons meme:

send me a character and I'll tell you:

what they smell like: dirt (obviously) and moss. I feel like she has some moss growing on her somewhere bc the moss just thinks she's a rock

what their favorite smells in the world are: damp cool caves like the ones the badgermoles lived in, but also jasmine because in her parent's garden they had a small jasmine section that she would hide in when she wanted to get away. She loves jasmine tea with Uncle Iroh!

What pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in: the simple shift under her clothes, but when Katara steals her clothes to clean it, she'll steal clothes from everyone else and then keep them to sleep in

My favorite ship and a cute hc about them: Tokka! (Internet veteran too weary to explain my justification for this haha.) Also, very close behind, Taang! So for Tokka, I think my biggest hc is that Sokka is one of her kid's dad/he helped raise them. But as I don't really consider anything post-book 3 canon, I'll give a different hc. One time, they tried to draw/carve into a rock each other's portraits. Toph's portrait of Sokka was kinda a spiky oval blob and Sokka's portrait of her was even worse. They kept the portraits for the rest of their lives. For Taang, they go on so many holidays together. They allow each other to act their age and to take off the many burdens they carry. So they go to the spa, the beach, the mountains, everywhere as often as they can and just have fun

My favorite friendship and a cute hc about them: Zuko and Toph, the unsung brother-sister duo. Because they're both really dedicated to improving their crafts, they teach each other their bending styles, which involves a lot of trial and error because the forms are different and having to adopt for Toph's need to keep to the earth. But no one sees it coming when Toph creates a rock whip or Zuko creates a fire tent

A song that reminds me of them: This one is hard. Immortals by Fall Out Boy?

What animal I think they would be if they were an animal: Badgermole, of course

What position they sleep in: When they're on the move, on her tummy, every part of her in touch with the earth so she can sense danger. When she's in a safer situation, curled up very tightly in a ball, with only her feet sticking out to protect her

Their favorite drink: I think she has really expensive taste. Like the highest Uncle Iroh-quality jasmine tea, imported coconut melon juice with two scoops of sugar and three ice cubes. Really expensive whiskies as an adult.

A gift I would give them if I could: Custom-made, one of a kind wrestling championship belt that says World's Greatest Earthbender. Because she deserves it. And a wrestling tournament held in her honor that she gets to compete in

[cassiuspr]

[Video transcript begin.]

[The recording opens up in the room described on A’s blog, although slightly messier than before. The bed is unmade, and the objects on some of the shelves are out of place, almost as if someone had picked them up to throw them, but decided against it. The phone is at upper torso height, sitting in the front shirt pocket of the room's owner, presumably Cassius.]

[The person gets up from where they were sitting, and pokes their head out the door, the view is blocked by the door frame.]

?: Archivist. In here. Now.

[Voice identified: Cassius.]

?: R-right. On it.

[Voice identified: The Archivist. His voice is stuttering.]

[Cassius retreats into his room, standing in the center, awaiting the Archivist.]

[A second figure enters the room, shorter than Cassius, presumably the Archivist. One hand is holding the other, grasping at it.] 

A: Look, I didn't- 

C: Save it.

[The brown-haired figure nods, shifting.]

C: Tell me, what made you think it was a good idea to come in here?

A: I..didn't. I thought you may want time to calm down, and just thought they would help.

C: Right. And yet, you still posted a full description of what this place looks like. Why. 

A: I don't know. There were a lot of asks wanting me to, and I thought..I don't know. I really don't.

[Cassius takes a step towards the Archivist.]

C: You told them about the portrait. 

A: I didn't put any details, I made sure not to. Nothing about what's on it, simply the age of what the art style is. I made sure.

[The voice of the Archivist seems to be reassuring himself, just as much as Cassius]

C: Do you have any idea what it's like, to be returning to work after something like that. And receiving a question about the very thing that caused it? You fucking told them about it. And they went to me.

A: I..don't. I shouldn't have done it, and I'm sorry. Genuinely.

C: ‘Sorry’ does not fix any of this, Archivist. You should know that empty words are just that. Empty. 

[Cassius takes another step.]

[It steps back, attempting to keep space between the pair.]

A: I didn't want to invade anything, or be rude, I just- 

C: Liar.

A: I'm not lying. Check the posts if you think I am. 

C: I already have. 

[Cassius takes a few more steps, closing the gap halfway.]

[The Archivist attempts to leave the room, trying to grab at the door handle]

[Cassius lunges at the Archivist, grabbing it by the throat.]

[He cries out, being muffled by both the hand at its throat, and their mask.]

C: Who gave you the right. To say one word about this fucking room?

A: No- no one.

C: So why did you do it? Spite? Defiance? Hate? 

A: Don't- don't know.

[Cassius places A down, and changes his grip to their arm. Moving towards the wall that had the portrait.]

[He's dragged along, too busy trying to regain its breath to fight back]

[The two reach the painting, Cassius stares at it for a few moments, allowing the software to pick up the details. It shows two people, no older than 12 and 16. The older of the two has short blonde hair and grey eyes, a soft smile visible, his hand is placed on the others shoulder. The second person has longer blonde hair and blue eyes, her hair appears to be styled into a bun. Cassius turns his full body away from the painting to face the Archivist.]

C: If I wanted to be reminded of this, I would have sought it out myself. Not let someone else tell the world about it, leaving me answering questions about it.

A: I, tried not to. I swear.

C: But you still did. You still put the information out. Tell me, truthfully, why you wanted everyone to know about this. Tell me why you did any of this. 

A: At first just wanted to, give you things to cheer you, up. Then, curiosity.

[It breaks between words, still attempting to regain his composure.]

C: Curiosity.

[The Archivist nods.]

C: Curiosity. 

[He repeats the same action, seemingly lost for words.]

C: You want to know about my sister? Is that the root cause for this? 

A: ..yes. you look happy.

C: Fine. Whatever. I’ll fucking tell you. You’ve already seen the fucking painting, what the point.

[His volume drops, sitting down on the floor.]

[The Archivist stares at Cassius, seemingly unsure of his actions]

C: That is a painting of my sister and I, her name was Elinor Maria Blaknall. If you’ve dug into anything from the era I’m from. You’d know about… this. 

A: I didn't. I..didn't want to breach too far. 

C: Great. So I have to talk details. Wonderful. My parents had this painted the year they all… died. 

A: Holy shit. I, uh, don't know what to say.

C: It was my fault, anyway. You don’t need to say anything, I don’t need your goddamn pity.

[It nods.]

C: My father and mother were planning on marrying her off. I don’t remember to who, just some old rich asshole. And I did mention that she was 12, yes?

A: Holy fuck. You didn't. Please tell me they didn't.. 

C: I didn’t let them. Those fuckers deserved it. I don’t regret any of what I did to those two.

A: Good. You shouldn't.

C: … She also died that day. 

A: ….shit. I'm sorry. 

C: Don’t. Don’t fucking say that. Don’t you fucking dare. I don’t deserve your fucking pity. Nor anyones. That was made clear on that very day. Take that back.

A: You, don't deserve it? Or you don't want it. You tried to do what you thought you should.

C: Stop it. Don’t. She told me that before she went. She made sure I knew. I don’t deserve that. Shut up.

A: I'm shutting up, but before I do; she was wrong about that, Cassius, you tried to help her not get hurt. Your parents wouldn't stop it, so you did what you could.

C: Stop treating me like a person, A. Let me finish the fucking story. That’s what you wanted, right?

A: ..I suppose, if you want.

C: Moving on. She saw what I did. And she took a sword off the wall. And she–

[Cassius pauses, his hand moves into frame, then moves back out, going to his face.]

C: God fucking damn it. Not again.

A: It's a sad topic, Cassius, you can cry. 

C: … why are you doing this, A. 

A: What do you mean? I don't get it.

C: I’ve tried, and succeeded, in killing people you care about. I treat you terribly. Why do you still treat me like you care? I don’t understand.

A: You did. And I'm still struggling to get past that, but you aren't a robot. You aren't some emotionless thing, you're a human. You have emotions, no matter how much they come and go, and you have a story. There's always an explanation for how people act the way they do, and..you seem nice. Underneath, you know, the PR persona.

[Cassius doesn’t say anything for almost a full minute, he stares at A, still, no movement. Until he finally jolts forward, crying. The sudden movement causing the phone to fall out of his pocket. Revealing the two hugging.] 

A: You're good, man, you're okay.

[The other man does not respond.]

A: You can cry as long as you like, Cass, don't worry.

[There is a sudden knock at the door. Cassius jolts back.]

?: Yo, Cass! You done killing A in there? 

[Voice identified: Alexander.]

C: Fuck.

[The smaller of the pair turn their head towards the door]

C: Archivist. I’m sorry. I… I’m going to have to. 

A: Dont say sorry. It's..expected, don't worry.

C: … Just know that I don’t want to. Please. You’ll… be back in under an hour. I’m sorry.

A: I know. 

[Cassius’ arm shoots out, swiftly tearing A’s throat out. He stares at his own hand. His eyebrows creased inwards. Before masking it with a neutral expression. He grabs A’s body and moves towards the door. It creaks open, something falls to the ground, and it closes again. He re-enters the frame. Noticing his phone.]

C: Wh– No, you– I… 

[He picks the phone up, breathing heavily. Before his eyes widen slightly.]

C: I… forgot I had that feature installed… Okay. Block users Ophelia, Eden, Alexander, Becky, Dorian, Adelia, Gabriel, Naomi, Bianca, Nicholas, Irene. End transcript.

[Users blocked. Transcript ending…]

[Transcript end.]

[irishhills]

your art matters

St. Elizabeth Seton High School isn’t what one would call a big school. It’s bigger than some of the other Catholic schools around, but it’s not big enough to have more than your traditional electives (painting, drama, choir). It really doesn’t seem big enough for students to audition for the school paper’s cartoonist, but here’s Jane Egan, turning in her sketches to the yearbook committee.

Her big brother, Luke, was editor-in-chief of the yearbook last year. Since then, he’s graduated and moved on, but he warned her that the remaining committee members probably wouldn’t be too fond of her style.

“The darkest they go for is a Charles Schulz,” Luke said as he watched Jane assemble her portfolio. “You know you’re a Charles Addams.”

“So what if I am?” Jane said then. “I think my art is good.”

As she waits to hear the end-of-day announcements over the PA, Jane still thinks her art is good. She turned in some of her best work to the yearbook committee earlier this week. A snarky comic about the benefits of being the unpopular kids at the football game – getting to blend into the crowd while you eat hot dogs in the cool fall weather. A diagram of the average student’s backpack, filled with useless math problems and a sliver of things that actually matter, like literature and history. A portrait of herself, the overworked freshman. Her drawings make use of thick black ink, and her characters have big eyes like a Margaret Keane painting. But Jane knows they’re good. In junior high, she won the “Class Artist” award for a reason.

It does not hurt that her big sister, Amy, took over for Luke as editor-in-chief.

Jane tries to keep her cool as Principal Mathers reads the announcements. Something about auditions for The Crucible, something about a boys’ soccer game against St. Catherine’s later that night, something else about lunch tomorrow. And then it’s time.

“News from the yearbook committee,” Principal Mathers says, and Jane doesn’t even care that she’s standing too close to the microphone. “Your cartoonist for the 1990-1991 school year will be …”

Jane taps her pencil against her French textbook, waiting for her name to be called.

“Richard Palmer!”

The air feels strange in the room now. Jane can’t even think of who this Richard Palmer person is, but he doesn’t sound real. And of course they went with a guy. Guys are the best at everything. At least, that’s how you feel if you’re Amy Egan, who likes every boy she feasts her eyes on. Jane knows she shouldn’t think that way. It just feels different when it’s your sister, the ultimate traitor.

After Madame Rousseau has them all say the Notre Père, Jane raises her hand and asks, with all the remaining breath in her burning lungs, “Puis-je aller aux WC?”

She’s out the door before Madame Rousseau can finish saying yes.

And she’s down the hallway, crying like an idiot, making noise when she knows she should be cool, play it cool, cool it, baby, cool it.

People are noticing. There’s a moral philosophy class going on next door to French class, and Chris comes out of that room with a furrowed brow.

“Jane?” he asks. “That you?”

But Jane blows him off. She doesn’t need Chris’s jokes and reassurance right now. She probably never needs jokes and reassurance again. This is about revenge.

Somehow, she knew Amy would be in the downstairs bathroom.

She’s standing in front of the mirror, reapplying her Strawberry Vanilla lipstick. Clearly, she knew Jane would be there, too. When they lock eyes – Amy, with all the calmness in the world, and Jane, with the wettest tears she’s ever cried – it’s like they know each other better than they ever have.

“Jane,” Amy says, annoyingly placid. “Let me explain.”

“Explain what?” Jane yells, not caring if she’s embarrassing herself or Amy anymore. “You probably told everyone not to vote for me!”

“No, I didn’t. I talked you up. I spent the whole class period talking about how you offered an edgy perspective that our yearbook has never had before.”

“And what?”

“And I think the way you draw your characters … all skinny and ghostly … I think it made the other girls on the committee freak out a little.”

Jane rolls her eyes. Great. Not only did her own sister reject her, but now, she has to admit that Luke was right. Her art is too creepy to be seen. Great.

“Please don’t be so dramatic about it,” Amy says. “You get so dramatic about everything.”

“I wouldn’t have to get dramatic if things went my way once in a while!”

“Jane, I tried. I liked your work the best, and that’s not even because you’re my sister.”

“What did you like about it?”

Amy sighs.

“Do we have to do this here?” she asks.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I like that you’re really saying something. You have what I think all artists want. A point of view. Richard Palmer … he can draw animals really well, and I think the other girls like that he can draw the mascot. But he doesn’t have a point of view. I don’t even think he wants one.”

Jane rolls her eyes again. She reaches for the paper towel and dabs at her eyes. The towel is tan and rough, like you’d find in a fast food restaurant. She doesn’t care. Not now.

“That’s what I wanted to share with people,” Jane says. “A point of view. I mean … all cartoonists are propagandists, I guess. I just figured I was rallying for the right side.”

Amy smiles. Dammit, Jane does, too. Sometimes, she forgets that Amy is smart.

“Jane, I’m really sorry about this,” she says, and Jane knows she means it. “But you have to believe me about this, OK?”

“I believe you tried to convince everyone else to pick me.”

“No, not that. Not just that. You have to believe me that your art matters.”

Jane nods. It’s probably the nicest thing Amy has ever said to her.

“I should probably get back to class,” she says.

“What for?” Amy asks. “Don’t you already speak French?”

“Sure, but if I’m not there, people will talk.”

“I know what you mean.”

For a second, Jane thinks about hugging Amy, right there in the downstairs school bathroom. But she doesn’t. She and Amy … they’re more than this conversation, more than hugs, more than even family. Maybe there’s a word for it. As Jane walks back upstairs to her French class, the best she can find is sisters.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I'm sorry but i'm addicted to our boy Spamton- I have a little unique request here. So this takes place where Spamton just moves in the Queen's mansion, he meets the reader and immediately falls for their kind words and gestures. Weeks pass, and he goes to see them, but catches them talking and hanging out with Swatch.. He gets really jealous to the point of changing his style to match Swatch's

"Oh [y/n]! Have You Met Our Newest Guest?"

"Uh, I don't believe-"

"He's An Interesting Addison Who Made A Big Name For Himself! Ohohoho!" Queen laughed joyously, pausing to sip her glass of battery acid. "I Wonder How He Got So Rich...No Matter. As My Peon, I Order You Greet Him......Whenever It's Convenient For You."

"Sure thing. I'll go now." With a respectful nod, you set off to the mansion's guest chambers to meet this newcomer. You've lived here for a long time--and somewhat reluctantly since Queen decided to make you one of her peons one day. But life was actually pretty good.

It wasn't like you had anything better to do, so if she needed someone to help her with plans that..didn't seem all-that urgent, you'll offer your assistance. She let you stay in the mansion for free and never made you do anything if you weren't feeling up to it.

For a tyrannical ruler she was rather kind.

Yet you didn't wanna take advantage of her hospitality, so you'd just listen to whatever she says. And if she wants you to meet this celebrity as part of her endless lists of requests, then you'll happily oblige. But you were eager too since you've seen his face on TV a lot. It felt like an honor.

After wandering the corridors of deactivated puzzles, Mona Lisa-esque portraits, and meticulously-placed pottery, you finally arrived at the guest rooms. You hummed a small tune as you passed by each one, stopping when you noticed one door was open.

Peeking inside, you saw the Addison still setting up things. A phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear as he moved a box whilst rambling to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Yea! I promise I won't let you down, okay? Soon I'll be bigger than ever before! I know I'm already a big shot but....haha, yeah, I shouldn't get carried away. Okay. Right..we'll discuss more of this tomorrow. Thanks!"

After hanging up the phone and returning it to the receiver, he finally noticed you and smiled. "Hey, hey! Haven't seen your face around here yet. But surely you know mine, right?"

"Yeah." You smiled, not wanting to shy away from talking with him. "Spamton, right?"

"Everybody's favorite number-one rated salesman!!" He laughed. "It's good you know me..'cuz soon ALL of Cyber World will know my name! It's a pleasure to meet you...?"

"[Y/n]. I'm one of Queen's peons." You shook his hand politely. The energy that radiated from him was so bright. Just as much as his pearly smile was.

Stepping inside, you glanced around at the luxurious furniture. He definitely got the higher-class rooms, with the addition of a large window that showed the neon green meridians that stretched across the night sky. It was certainly a beautiful view to fall asleep to. "Need help unpacking?"

"Oh--sure!!" At first Spamton seemed surprised by your offer, but he nodded. "If you want, be my guest. And while we unpack, I gotta ask you..how's it being Queen's peon?"

............

Weeks passed, and you've gotten to know Spamton more and more. You realized he was actually a sweet down-to-earth guy all around. Although he was on the phone a lot, he'd make time to hang out with you, so you two became fast friends.

He was truly living the best life. Posters of his car advertisements were littered all over the city, and the Swatchlings attended to his every need. Though one thing was hard to admit, even when it seemed like he had it all:

You were his only friend now that everyone else is intimidated by his status--as they would shy away from conversing with him--and the Addisons, well, abandoned him out of jealousy.

Obviously that made him worry about driving you away, especially when he's on the phone nonstop. But...the fact you've been so kind to him in every word and gesture, treating him like a regular person and not some untouchable celebrity, was quite endearing. Most admired him for his products, not his personality.

Your kindness made him fall for you hard and fast, ever since day one. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea; to let it get in the way of his business.

But what the hell? He was a big shot! He can afford to go a bit bigger and take more risks. Living in this mansion with someone who loved him would be the perfect dream.

There was a much bigger dream that his valued caller insisted he focused on, but that can come later.

So this morning, Spamton set out to find you to address these feelings once and for all. Yet he was rather nervous. Addisons were most confident in selling products, not so much...everything else. But he didn't wanna back down. He kept smiling no matter what.

As he checked inside the color café that he usually frequented, he saw you eating at the table. He noticed you weren't alone but with Swatch, talking and...

Laughing with them?

And just like that, his smile faded much like his hope.

Of course, the head butler had their ways to swoon people. He tried not to think of it as anything more than just their personality. It's just their way to entice returning customers.

That's all...right?

Spamton ducked behind one of the displays, listening in on your conversation to determine if he should proceed or not.

"By the way, we've known each other for a while and..I've always wanted to ask you something.."

"Yes? What is your inquiry?"

He held his breath. This is exactly what he feared. Knowing that you've been here longer, it's obvious you'd be closer to that damn bird-

"Your outfit."

Then he exhaled shakily, relieved. 'What are you getting so worked up for, idiot?' He thought in the back of his mind, but he continued eavesdropping.

"Did the Queen make it or give it to you? It's very stylish and really makes you stand out from the other Swatchlings."

"Ah, in fact I decided this look for myself." Swatch chuckled softly, raising a wing to adjust their glasses. "The tailor did marvelous work with my vision: black suit, tinted glasses. Very fashionable, is it not?"

"It is. I like it a lot."

"Why thank you. I see why our Lady Grace admires you. Just for that compliment, I'll give you a discount on any of our products in the gift shop."

"Should be every day if you ask me." You joked, earning another chuckle from them.

Seeing all of this and the way you two spoke like close friends was a jab in Spamton's heart-shaped object. 'So [y/n] likes people who stand out? Well I can stand out, too..' He thought bitterly as he stormed out of the shop without either of you knowing he was there.

Why should he settle with being a blank-slate Addison like the rest of them? He didn't consider himself one anymore.

Today, he told his valued caller, he was gonna be a whole new person.

It would help him get closer to both of his dreams, but there was only one on his mind now.

............

Later that night as you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You huffed in annoyance, assuming Queen needed you for something.

She had a knack for disturbing you at ungodly hours. But knowing better than to ignore her, you went to answer the door anyways-

To some strange black-haired guy in a black suit and white turtleneck sweater.

"Hi, um...can I help you?"

"[Y/n]? It's me."

"....wait....Spamton?"

"Yeah!" The salesman laughed, throwing his arms out and making a pose. "Whatdya think of me now?"

Perplexed, you looked him up and down. He ditched the lime-green pants, instead wearing white trousers. And his hair was slicked back. But what was most peculiar about him were his glasses, tinted with pink and yellow lenses.

Had you not known any better, you would've thought Swatch suddenly shrunk and became robotized.

"Cool but..you kinda look like Swatch a little bit. Was that on purpose?" You mused.

"...haha....yeah uh..funny story. Um.." He dropped the act, losing his trademark grin as he wondered how to explain himself and this sudden transformation. You could tell he wanted to talk inside the room, so you let him in and shut the door.

"I don't recall Queen mentioning any costume contest-"

"It's not a costume." He muttered, uncomfortably rubbing his hands together as he looked at you with sadness. "This is who I am now. The new me."

"..huh? You serious?" When he nodded, you frowned slightly. "I'm confused. You don't look like an Addison anymore-"

"That's the point...! I...I don't wanna be associated with them anymore. I decided to stand out, y'know? If you're gonna be a big shot, ya gotta stand out from the crowd!" He forced a laugh that sounded rather glitchy.

You didn't buy it. It wasn't like him to do this out of the blue.

"Spamton, why imitate Swatch of all people? And why out of the blue like this? I mean..I don't mind if you like their style. But I didn't even recognize you until you spoke."

Try as he might, he couldn't make any better excuses. So seeing that he was cornered made him finally admit his jealousy, overhearing your conversation with Swatch while he was browsing--when he really wasn't, but he didn't wanna come off as creepy.

His voice glitched further due to stress, accidentally blurting out some kind of...flirtatious term as he explained how much you meant to him since day one.

You weren't sure if he meant to say "hot single" on purpose. Though you were flattered that such a famous guy like him...actually had a crush on you, an ordinary Darkner who just fetched the Queen's stick wherever she threw it.

You found it hard to believe he thought of you that way..so you kept your own feelings buried. So to see that it's mutual was a relief, and it made you smile.

Spamton, on the other hand, was stressing the hell out. So much so he didn't even see your smile. He just saw himself being stupid the more he rambled on.

It was such a stupid, stupid reason to get insecure--to the point of changing his entire appearance without warning. All because you were friends with a butler who was doing their job???

How selfish can he get when he already had everything he wanted and more?

When he did acknowledge your small smile, he thought you were holding yourself back from laughing. But you had every right to laugh and call him a joke for thinking this will get your attention.

As he finished talking, he could see your smile fade and huffed. He waited for you to tell him how stupid he looks and to go back to being the plain old Addison you met.

Instead of ridiculing him you...hugged him?

At this point you were sitting on the bed together. Of course yours wasn't as massive as his was, but it was big enough for you two to share.

"Spammy, I'm flattered you like me in that way but...you didn't have to do all of this to get my attention. I promise there's nothing going on between Swatch and I. We're just friends. They're not replacing you or anything."

"I know, it's just.." Taking off the glasses, he set them aside before hugging you tightly, head buried in your chest. "I don't wanna lose the only person in this damn place who makes me feel like myself. Who loves me for me, not my success. And...I-I felt like I had to change something about myself to make sure of that."

"Well..you don't need to change anymore. I love you no matter what you look like."

He blinked, his face turning as red as his cheeks.

You could sense his embarrassment from the way he tensed up in your arms and chuckled, patting his hair softly. "Just..don't feel pressured to change for me..or anybody for that matter, okay? Or at least let me know if you're gonna change things up again."

"You don't think..I look stupid or creepy like this?"

"No. Honestly you look pretty handsome. Black hair suits you well."

Hearing those words made him breathe a small sigh of relief. He nodded and hugged you tighter.

His new looks were staying for good.

[startanewdream]

James and/or Sirius laughing at Harry for growing (or trying to) grow a beard 🧔

That’s it

That’s my comment

Ahhh, it's midnight for me I work early tomorrow but I just *had* to write something along these lines!

Set during winter break at Year 6 (or my fave pining Harry time). Warning for some slang and also that I edited on the phone

________

“Fuck. No, no, it can’t be… fuck!”

The first slang would have made Sirius stop on his way down the hall, but the tone of desolation that follows it, added by the most hopelessness he has ever heard in Harry's voice, makes him open the door to his godson’s bedroom without waiting for an answer.

(Always risky when it comes to teenagers, but it seems to be an emergency)

The first thing he notices is the rotten smell, then the smoke coming out of a cauldron with the fire beneath still lit; sparkles are coming out of Harry’s wand, which he holds high (underage magic? That he won’t tell), but then Sirius’ gaze falls on Harry’s face and he ignores anything else.

Because on Harry’s face there is something so horrendous that Sirius won’t dare to call it a beard. It’s hair.

Harry’s chin spots the same hair as in his head. It’s a dark messy beard that makes him look as if his hair grew all around his mouth.

“What the hell?”

“Don’t laugh!” Harry tells him immediately, a little bit threatening, but Sirius is truly too shocked to even break a smile. This thing is too ghastly for even him to crack a joke about it. “I… I messed up, okay?”

“Kid, that’s an overstatement,” Sirius says, getting closer to his godson slowly. He touches his beard. “How did you get hair on your chin? That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Ugh.” Harry throws a guilty look to the cauldron on the floor. “It’s Grandpa Monty’s fault.”

“Unless his ghost came back to screw your face, it seems as if you did this to yourself, kid.”

“No, I… Look!” He picks a scroll, waving it in front of Sirius’ nose. “I found his old notes in the attic. Five-Second Eazybeard! I swear I brewed the potion exactly as he wrote.”

Sirius eyes the smelly potion.

“Are you sure it was your granddad’s notes? This doesn’t seem like Monty's style at all.”

“Well… I thought so. He was the potioneer in the family, right? And he invented Sleekeazy!”

“And then he didn’t launch anything else,” Sirius reminds him, looking at the potion instructions.

“Because he was rich enough and didn’t need more money?”

Sirius laughs. “Nah, Monty was curious enough to keep inventing. This was probably an attempt that didn’t work.” Sirius shakes his head, smirking. “Look, I am not trying to pull a Lily here, but trying untested potions? That’s a bad idea, Harry.”

"I haven't had problems so far," Harry mumbles to himself. As Sirius is about to ask him what he means by that, Harry grabs his hand suddenly. "I learned the lesson, ok? Now you gotta help me!"

Sirius lifts an eyebrow. "The only thing that would help you is a scissor."

"I've tried! The bathroom is full of this thing, but it just grew back! I've tried to cut it magically, and it's all the same. You are the adult here, do something!"

"What do you want me to do? I can't do an antidote just looking at the ingredient list! You need Lily, just call her—"

"I…" the part of Harry's face that is not covered by hair flushes. "I can't. She is at the Burrow now, helping Mrs Weasley with the New Year's party."

"Then let's go, I am sure it will be easy for her—"

"No!" Harry looks in panic now, his eyes widened. "She cannot know what… what happened."

"Lily will know as soon as—"

"Not… not Mum, it's… look, that's fine. Mum will be back tomorrow, I will just spend the New Year hiding in my room pretending I don't exist."

"Harry… there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You know, growing hair body is perfectly normal at your age—"

"Ugh, stop teasing me."

"I wish I could, but you look truly horrible." Sirius winks at him, sitting on Harry's bed. "What prompted you to do this?"

Harry's flush intensifies.

"I was trying to grow a beard."

"Oh, really?"

"It's… it's stupid, okay? But Ginny was… I mean, I heard some girls saying that they enjoyed guys with a beard and I can only grow that stupid stubble and—argh—I just thought I could give it a try but now I have hair growing all around my head and—"

"You are babbling, kid, I got it."

"No, you don't." Harry runs his hand through his hair, looking very much like James when he is most nervous. "You get to grow a beard when you want it. You get this whole shining hair. You get women to sigh for you and I… I am just this stupid teenager who can't even have a full beard."

Sirius blinks. "You are worrying way too much, Harry. And, well, if you want to be assured, you are nice—girls have taken a fancy to you, haven't they?"

"That's just the Chosen One thing, it's not really… me."

Sirius fights back a smile. Harry seems really desolate.

"Look, you've grown well. You are still growing. I am sure people notice you. You have your mother's gorgeous eyes and you do look like James—if there is any comfort in this, I remind you that James got Lily to feel attracted to him, so you can't be that bad." Harry frowns, and Sirius isn't sure if it's because he doesn't want to think of their parents being attracted to each other or if because he doesn't trust Lily's opinion on this matter. "I am sure Ginny thinks you are attractive, beard or no beard."

Harry jumps.

"Who said anything—"

"Oh, are we still pretending you don't fancy her?"

Harry looks away. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Yeah, sure. So you don't mind going to the Burrow now and showing up like this?"

"Of course I do! I mean… Ron would tease me."

"Ron."

"And the twins. I mean, look at this!"

"Yeah, I would be upset if they didn't. So many joke opportunities. You are hairy, Harry."

Harry puts his hands in front of his face. Sirius refrains from telling him this doesn't hide his beard at all.

"So… what do I do now?"

"We truly need Lily's help on this… we need to go to the Burrow."

"I can't—"

"Don't worry." Sirius breathes heavily. "Your godfather won't leave you alone on this."

_________

"It was an accident, Lily," Sirius tells her, his hand playing with the hair over his chin. His new grown hair beard reaches his chest and Sirius is almost finishing a braid by now. "I was trying some old potion, and then Harry was close and it just splashed in both of us."

Lily lifts her eyebrows, her eyes moving from Sirius to Harry and then back.

"An accident?" she repeats, incredulous.

"I am so sorry," he says, the portrait of innocence. "Could you help us with an antidote? And before you say anything, I know I shouldn't have tested an unknown potion. But do this for Harry, not for me. Poor kid doesn't deserve to spend the night hiding. It's a New Year's party after all!"

Lily shakes her head, amused.

"Fine, because you asked so eloquently. I will grab my potion kit, a hair inhibitor should be enough."

"You truly are the best, Lily," Sirius tells her, beaming.

Harry waits until his mother is out of the room to let out a relieved breath.

"Thanks so much, Sirius," he says.

Sirius nods, still messing with the hair on his chin. It's so weird and it looks as ghastly in him as it does on Harry.

He doesn't regret applying that potion to his face. His sacrifice worked just as he planned to: with two people having hair growing out of their chins, the attention was divided and with Sirius taking the blame, people felt sorry enough for Harry to not mock him much.

"Hey," they turn around to see Ginny coming closer, holding a tray with some sandwiches for them. "Mum thought you would be hungry while hiding here."

"Thanks," Sirius says, because Harry seems too busy pretending to look outside the window, anything so he can try to avoid Ginny looking at his beard.

Ginny nods at Sirius, but she approaches Harry anyway.

"Your mum is already working on the antidote, don't worry," she tells him gently. "Look, it's not as bad as that time Percy tried to grow a moustache, remember?"

Harry chuckles. "You are so lying."

"I would never," she assures him, voice light. "Look at me."

Harry turns to her almost as if he can't control it. His eyes soften as he gazes upon her, and Sirius is suddenly reminded of how Lily always looks when she sees James.

Ginny raises her hand slowly, giving Harry plenty of time to back away, but he just stays quiet as she touches his beard, her fingers running through it. Sirius suspects Harry isn't even breathing anymore.

"It's soft," she tells Harry and for a moment they just stare at each other. Sirius decides that he is really witnessing a moment that he doesn't want to, but his attempt to quietly leave the room only alerts them to his presence. Ginny's hand falls back as if she got electrocuted. "Anyway, you look better without it."

Harry grimaces. "I guess that stupid stubble is better than this."

"Stupid stubble?" Ginny blinks, evidently surprised. "It's not stupid, I… I mean, girls love it on you."

"They do?"

"Yeah, well, just thinking about your stubble brushing my skin—I mean, their skin, as in other girls' shoulders, or holding your face while… never mind, I just… I just heard it, that's all. You are drawing a lot of attention."

"I know, all this Chosen One stupid thing—"

"It's not it... you are really oblivious to your charm, Harry."

"You think I am charming?" Harry asks, longing evident in his voice now.

"I…" Ginny hesitates, turning away as if she doesn't want to answer this while looking at Harry, and her eyes meet Sirius. He smirks at her, knowing perfectly well her answer. Ginny's face reddens even as her jaw sets in a protective instance. "Yeah, with the stubble. Everyone knows it. It's common knowledge. I… I have to go, I think I heard Mum calling me."

Sirius could point out that Molly didn't call her at all, but he opts for just letting Ginny go, his smirk more than enough to let her know she didn't fool him.

At the other corner of the room, Harry's face is spotting a huge grin, watching the door with a dreamy expression.

"She likes my stubble!" He declares happily. "Oh, I need to take off this stupid long beard now."

Sirius shakes his head at Harry, amused. At least Harry won't ever complain about his inability to grow a beard again.

[starsfic]

Monkey in a Jar

Summary: Qi Xiaotian decides to look for information on Lady Bone Demon in the Demon Bull family's penthouse.

Notes: Inspired by some artwork @azelforest-art-corner made inspired by a prompt fill @purble-turble did.

-_-

For once, Xiaojiao's stalking had come into use.

Three days ago, Xiaotian had met the demon known as Lady Bone Demon. The first demon that had gotten Sun Wukong banished from the pilgrimage west. The demon who was clearly planning something.

Sun Wukong hadn't answered any of Xiaotian's attempts to call him. (He wasn't going to think about that.) Everyone else was just going to get hurt. So it was up to him to find something. Which included research.

And the first place that made sense was the Demon Bull family. They were the ones who probably released her, guessing by the skeleton key that matched her that Princess Iron Fan had stole and the whole… possession thing that had taken over DBK shortly after that. And that was where Xiaojiao's stalking had come in.

She had managed to attach a small camera to each member. Red Son and DBK during New Year's and Iron Fan during the cook-off with Yin and Jin. With that, she had figured out that Iron Fan had left her husband and son sometime after the city takeover. DBK and Red Son had been living in a penthouse in the gilded part of the city- one full of much older demons- but DBK had left to rejoin Iron Fan a week ago.

Leaving Red Son alone.

Which was why Xiaotian eyed the building in front of him. It was the apartment building the penthouse was in. Usually, Red Son was gone during this time. No better time to see if there was anything about Lady Bone Demon.

When the street had cleared enough, he shot across it and to the side door. He slipped behind some lady with antlers and headed for the elevator. He pressed the very top button, like Red Son had been recorded to do, and then mumbled "Think small."

When the elevator opened, a small Xiaotian hopped out. He wasn't sure if there was cameras, but he wanted to be safe just in case.

The penthouse was a meld of modern style and something out of the Tang dynasty. Despite it, the living room felt oddly… empty. Xiaotian shook it off and-

"Hello?"

He froze.

Red Son.

He wasn't supposed to be home!

He ducked behind a urn as the demon came down the stairs. The redhead eyed the elevator before shrugging, turning back up the stairs. When Xiaotian was sure he was gone, he sighed.

The living room, as well as being empty of personality, was empty of anything hinting to Lady Bone Demon. There wasn't anything, in fact. Maybe the dining room?

Nothing there.

The kitchen seemed to have some personality, with dirty dishes waiting to be cleaned. Xiaotian had just hopped on the counter when footsteps made him freeze. He quickly scrambled to hide, ending up next to a picture of Red Son and DBK and their skewer stall, when Red Son entered. He opened the fridge and started rummaging through. Holding his breath, Xiaotian moved to hop off.

His foot slammed into a pen.

It fell off the counter.

Red Son slammed the fridge shut, looking around with a raised brow. Xiaotian scrambled back, right into the picture. At the force with how he hit, it fell over. Biting back curses, Xiaotian barely avoided being knocked over.

And fell right over the counter.

Thankfully, all it really did was knock the air out of him. Which, weird. He was small enough that he should've hurt something.

But Red Son was coming over!

Xiaotian ran, barely avoiding running into the demon's boots. But he finally collapsed against the wall, sighing in relief. That had been too close.

He headed to the stairs. He didn't notice Red Son, still in the kitchen, grab a jar.

With a quick vault with the staff, he was on the upper level.

The first few rooms he checked were bare of anything. In fact, they looked barely touched. The master bedroom was spotless, with a giant portrait of the Demon Bull family seeming to be the only personal touch. There was nothing about Lady Bone Demon.

Not until Xiaotian entered the last room.

This seemed to be Red Son's room. Posters of different vehicles adorned the walls, with bookshelves filled with books, scrolls, and tolls, and a messy desk, a gamer chair set in front. But the best part was above the desk.

Xiaotian hopped onto the desk to take a closer look. There were pictures of a white and blue sarcophagus. Red string connected it to a list of names, titled People to Ask.

Before he could take another look, his world was suddenly upside down. He hit the bottom of a jar. Before he could scramble out, try and find the staff, a lid slammed down.

"Well, well, well, what an interesting little bug I've caught."

Xiaotian squeaked at the sight of a giant Red Son, smirking down at him. "Uhh...hi, Red Son?" He tried for an innocent smile. "How's it going?"

"Well," Red Son settled down in the chair, still smirking. "I've just caught a little pest."

"Look, I didn't- I mean- I'm looking for information on Lady Bone Demon."

Red Son's smirk dropped as he turned to the pictures. "Lady Bone Demon… Interesting."

Okay, here it was! A way out!

"How about we exchange what we know?" Xiaotian offered, still shakily keeping his smile. "I'm looking for information on her."

Red Son hummed. "Interesting. What else can you offer…" The smirk on his face made Xiaotian whimper, both in dread and some other feeling he didn't want to recognize.

He started scrabbling on the side as the demon chuckled.

"I'm definitely going to take my time with you…"

[bestiesenpai]

tattoo artist sukuna

I am way overdo to get my sleeve finished and I’m already itching to get a full back piece, so this is right up my alley. Gender neutral reader, and if you’d like to see the tattoo style i reference please go to @/novchild.jpg on instagram :)

It was a spur of the moment decision that led you to drive downtown with your friends at nearly midnight, drunk off each other's energy and eager to do something reckless. Speeding down the motorway, you scrolled through Instagram in search of a tattoo artist.

“Are you guys sure about this?” Your nerves had finally caught up to you as the car was parked in front of the studio you all chose. It was a typical brick and mortar building with a large skull painted on the only window to the outside world. There were a few bald men smoking cigarettes right outside the door, scrawling ink covering their exposed hands and faces.

“Yeah, c’mon!” No one waited for you, everyone climbing out of the car in excitement. Slowly, you got out of the car as well, head down as you walked past the men and into the shop.

Loud, blaring metal music met your ears, jarring you upright and tense. There wasn’t anyone you could see at the front desk, the only workers were huddled in a back corner leaning over something and laughing.

“Which one should I get?” Your attention was drawn away from the men in the corner and to the art hanging on the wall, all different flash sheets from various artists. Some were more gory, clearly drawing inspiration from horror movies while other pieces were bright and colorful, like bubblegum pop come to life.

“Hey.” A gruff voice cut through the loud music, and a man was now leaning against the front desk, spiky black hair in a ponytail with a bored look on his face and several piercings in both ears. He was clearly sizing you up, the black bar going across his nose moving as he did.

Unprepared to speak to him, you were happy when someone else stepped in and started chatting about prices. The man at the counter had on a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, exposing one full arm and hand that was completely blacked out.

“Choso, any customers?” Another shouted, a man wide in stature with long hair. He sauntered up to the counter, tight black t-shirt showing off the traditional Japanese work covering every inch of skin.

“Getou, can’t you see?” Choso rolled his eyes and gestured to your little group.

“I can’t make conversation?” Pulling a face at Choso, Getou leaned his elbows on the counter and flashed a wide grin at all of you. “So, who’s the first to get some ink?” His narrowed eyes looked over your bare skin and you could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I am! I want that one!” One of your friends pointed at the wall, making Getou hum and nod.

“That’s Gojo’s work, he loves to draw the cute shit. I’ll call him over.” As a white haired man walked over at Geto’s call, one by one your friends made their decisions and were paired with artists.

“What did you choose, (Y/N)?” A friend asked, seeing you still stuck staring at the wall.

“I don’t know!” Throwing your head back, you were beginning to regret even tagging along. There were simply too many options and the task of picking something was daunting.

“Having a hard time choosing?” A flash of white crosses your vision and soon Gojo is leaning down into your field of vision, piercing blue eyes staring at you curiously.

“U-uh yeah.” Stumbling back from how close his face is, you realize how tall he is when he stands up straight, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Me and another guy just got done making a new flash sheet, lemme show you.” It takes him only a couple seconds to go back to his station and come back with a piece of thick paper with drawings on it.

Taking the paper, the drawings were unexpectedly cute. A lot of them looked like rough sketches or crayon drawings, simple in concept but intricate in detail.

“I’ll take this one.” Pointing at a mid-sized crayon drawing, your mouth ticked up in a smile as Gojo took the paper from you with sparkling eyes.

“That one is so cute, good choice! One sec!” Tossing the paper down, he dashes away shouting nonsensical words towards the back of the shop where they’d all been huddled up. “Sukuna! Someones here for ya!”

Rising straight up from a chair with a loud groan, a shirtless pink haired man glared sharply at Gojo. Even from a distance you can see the sharp black lines tattooed across his face and down his body, circles on each shoulder, dashed lines across his chest down his stomach and around his wrists as well.

“Geez you can really yell, you know that?” Running a hand through his hair roughly, Sukuna stands up, flexing his muscles and unknowingly giving the whole shop a show of his chiseled physique.

“There’s a client here to get a piece we made together earlier.” Shoving the paper in his face, Gojo points to the piece you selected. Sukuna mumbles a few words and sets his eyes on you, walking over with a swagger that makes you nervous.

“Alright, where do you want it?” Leaning close to you, Sukuna quirks a brow.

“I don’t know.” You sigh softly, looking down at your arms and legs. “I don’t-”

“Your arm, right here.” Grabbing onto your arm, Sukuna turns it outward to expose the flesh of your inner arm. “It would look good right here, about the size of my palm.”

“O-oh okay.” Nodding quickly, your face is burning when he lets go. His touch still lingered on your skin, the edge of his black painted fingernails digging in briefly as they squeezed you.

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes, go sign the paperwork.” Sukuna speaks with his back to you, already walking to the station he had been sleeping at and setting up. Rushing to fill in the proper papers, you wait nervously at the front of the shop for your turn.

The rest of your friends are already getting started, the whir of the tattoo machines adding to the ambience of the shop. With a wave Sukuna calls you over to his corner, still shirtless with a pair of gloves on.

“Hold out your arm.” Grabbing you once again, Sukuna angles your arm in front of a mirror by the table. Rubbing ointment on your skin, he sticks the stencil on and rubs firmly, making you squirm from the tickle of his hand getting close to your armpit.

“What do you think?” Stepping to the side, he looks at you in the mirror. “Little to the left? Right?”

“No, it’s perfect.” The longer you look at it, the longer you love it. Giving you a pat on the shoulder, Sukuna led you to the table, having you lay down and stick your arm out.

“This your first one, I can tell.” He said, adjusting your body how he seemed fit and rubbing more ointment on you.

“It’s that obvious?”

“Oh yeah, only a first timer would get something like this from me.” A cocky grin spread across his face and he gestured to the wall behind your head, covered in realistic black and white portraits. “This is normally my speciality.”

“You drew yourself?” Pointing up at one of the pictures that looked exactly like him minus the face tattoos, you chuckled.

“Nah, that’s my twin.” Your brows rose in surprise and you looked between Sukuna and the picture.

“Does he have-?” You waved over your face and body.

“He’s too scared to get a tattoo, says he’ll get ink poisoning and die.” Sukuna laughed, pouring out the various colored ink into little cups. “Won’t even let me do a tiny dot on him!”

“Safe to say you two are pretty different then.” You found yourself laughing a little as well, eased at Sukunas laid back nature.

“Mhmm, he’s busy going on the straight and narrow while I’m here ‘ruining my body’ as our grandpa likes to say.” Flashing quick air quotes, Sukuna revs up the machine and fiddles with the buttons. “Alright, you ready for this? Won’t have virgin skin anymore after this.”

“Yes!” Clenching and unclenching your fist, you pushed a deep breath through your mouth.

“If you start to cry, I won’t stop. And if you pass out, I’ll just wake you up.” That was his final warning before he leaned forward, using one large gloved hand to spread the skin of your arm taut.

The first prick of the needle against your skin made you jolt, sucking in a sharp breath and making your eyes fly open. Sukuna snorted, wiped your arm with a towel and kept going. Honing in on the marks and exposed pipes in the ceiling, you tried not to twitch from the needle anymore.

“You’re doing pretty well.” Sukuna mumbled, briefly sitting up and dipping in for more ink.

“Really?” Taking a look at the tattoo, you were surprised to see only one line had been done. It felt like at least three were placed into you.

“Yeah, don’t screw it up.” Sticking his tongue out at you, Sukuna went back to work. Transfixed on watching him, you saw the lines go into your skin, overflowing with ink and being wiped away repeatedly. You were also watching the way Sukuna’s arms flexed, the muscles in his body all on display right in front of you.

“Tell me about yourself while you stare at me.” Sukuna said, not looking up from your arm. Immediately, your head whipped away from him and a deep burn ran over your face. Sukuna laughed at your embarrassment, patting your arm with the paper towel a few times.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re not the first one to do it.” That didn’t make it any better. Slapping a hand over your face, you let out an unintelligible noise from the back of your throat.

“Just great.”

“It’s okay to say you have a crush on me, a lot of people that come to the shop do.”

“Sukuna!” Laughing through the shame, you glanced over at him.

“Hey, it’s the truth.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well can you blame them when you’re built like that?” Feeling emboldened by the late night hour, you took a rather obvious look at Sukuna’s body. With only a pair of sweatpants on, you could see nearly all the tattoos he had.

“Aw thanks doll, I work out.” Sukuna shot a wink at you, briefly flexing both arms and making you blush again. “But enough about me, what about you? What made you come here so late at night?”

“My friends and I wanted to do something spontaneous.” Returning your gaze to the ceiling, the ache from the tattoo gun was beginning to settle into your skin. “And what better way to be spontaneous than to get a tattoo?”

“Ha, I hear that.”

“Why’d you get the ones on your face and stuff?”

“Thought they’d make me look cool, and I was right.” Giggling at his honesty, you quickly nodded in agreement.

“The ones on your face, did they hurt really bad?”

“The ones near my eyes yeah, those hurt the most. But thankfully Choso has a steady hand, so it didn’t last too long.”

Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your own face, drawing along the edge of your jaw and eye socket. There was no way you could get your face tattooed as heavily as Sukuna had, if at all ever. You had only just now gotten used to the pain of the needle on your arm and you were still twitching every so often.

“How’re you holding up so far?” Sukuna whispers close to your ear ten quiet minutes later. He’s completely focused on tattooing you yet his face is close enough that if you leaned up a little, you could graze his hair with your nose.

“Fine.” You whisper back, suddenly feeling awkward with the low tone of his voice.

“That’s good doll, real good.” His voice dropped even lower, overcompensating for the song ending over the stereo speakers. Trying not to stare at his serious expression, you look over at the other stations. Gojo is chatting up your friend excitedly, and there’s a number of colorful inks laid out before him. Choso and Geto are hard at work as well, with Choso pointedly not speaking, and a blonde man you’d noticed drinking a large mug of black coffee earlier with his button up sleeve rolled up to reveal two dragons on his forearms.

Just as the pain in your arm was starting to truly burn, the tattoo was over. Sukuna washed it down gently, patting your arm and humming to the song playing. Sitting up with a short grunt, he flicked his head to the mirror.

“Go ahead and take a look.”

Sliding slowly off the table, you held your arm out awkwardly and stood in front of the mirror. Your arm was slightly swollen and stinging, shoulder stiff from being in the same position for so long, but a smile spread on your cheeks.

“I love it.” It looked exactly like the picture: a crayon style drawing of a brown haired girl in a giant green frog, a big pout on her lips while the frog sat on a lily pad.

“Lemme snap a couple quick photos before I wrap you up.” Already with his phone out, Sukuna was quick at taking pictures, posing you like when he’d put the stencil on. “I’ll run down the aftercare stuff with you, also give you a card in case you forget any of it.”

You didn’t hear a thing he said about aftercare. Standing nearly chest to chest with Sukuna while he rubbed ointment on your skin and wrapped your tattoo up, the way his arms nearly wrapped around you to put the cover on, the gentle touch of his fingers pressing medical tape to your skin, even the way he was breathing softly and looking at you - it all had you distracted.

“Alright, you’re all done.” Sukuna patted your arm, breaking you from your trance.

“Thank you so much!” Looking down at your tightly bandaged arm, you could feel the intense heat radiating out of it. You quickly snapped your own picture of the bandage as Sukuna dug around in a drawer.

“And since I could tell you were zoning the fuck out just now, I wrote my number down on the aftercare sheet, so text me if you have any questions.” Holding the paper out to you, Sukuna had indeed scribbled his phone number on the paper in thick black marker.

“Can I really just text you?” Taking the paper hesitantly, you fiddled with it in your hands.

“Of course! I want your tattoo to heal well!” Sukuna nodded, throwing his arms out dramatically. Waiting for you to gather your stuff, he walked you to the front of the shop. “Text me anytime doll, I stay up late.” He whispered right before you got to the front counter, making your jaw drop and ears burn.

“(Y/N), you really got a girl in a frog?” A friend laughed, a bandage wrapped around their thigh.

“It’s cute!” You defended it, holding your arm close to your body.

“The cutest fucking one.” Sukuna added on, slapping the counter and pointing at everyone.

“Aren’t you cold without a shirt on?” Choso mumbled, typing away on his phone in the corner.

“No ‘cause I’m not anemic like you are.”

“It’s still cold outside.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s cold in here!” The two of them quickly devolved into petty squabble, giving each other light hearted shoves in the shoulder while Geto collected the money from everyone.

“Bye, thank you so much!” You all called out as you left, waving goodbye and shrugging your jackets back on.

“I’ll be waiting for that text, doll!” Sukuna shouted right as you stepped out, blowing you a kiss when you whipped your head over your shoulder in shock.

“Text? Were you flirting with him?” A slew of curious looks were thrown your way, making your shock even worse.

“N-no!” You stuttered and immediately grimaced at it, face getting warmer as you climbed into the car. “We were just talking while he tattooed me, he just wants to make sure it heals right.”

“Mhmm, whatever you say. Let’s go to the drive through now, Geto told me to eat something after getting tattooed!”

“Hey check Sukuna’s Instagram story, he already posted your tattoo (Y/N)!”

“Really?” Rushing to pull out your phone, it was indeed true. Sukuna had posted one of the pictures he took of your arm, a few silly frog gifs surrounding it, with the caption ‘painted a pretty doll with a pretty frog, hope they come back for more xx’.

“You two were definitely flirting!” Shouts resounded in the car, everyone giggling wildly at the caption. Giggling along with them, you quickly typed a message to Sukuna.

(Y/N): hey Sukuna this is (Y/N). Thanks again for the frog! And the picture you posted on your story looks really good :)

(Sukuna): no problem doll

(Sukuna): next time you want a tattoo, text me and i’ll draw up whatever you want

“Sukuna said he wanted to tattoo me again!” You announced to your friends, all of them oohing and crowding around your phone. “What should I say?”

“I’ll do it!” Someone snatched your phone before you could say anything, rapidly shooting off a message and tossing the device back to you.

(Y/N): are you free tomorrow?

“He’s not gonna-” Right as you were beginning to shake your head and type another message, he replied.

(Sukuna): for you? of course

[petalsmooth]

Ok.

Let’s talk Lili.

First off we only know what stars put out about themselves or other people say about them. We are not friends with these people. We are not in their homes. We don’t usually hear what they say in unguarded conversation. What we know is what is out on social media with some highly distorted soundbites from chats or DM’s with her mother that were exposed.

We were initially presented a portrait pushed by her and her family no less of a middle class family with the standard girl next door hit it big narrative. Down to earth, relatable, somewhat quirky. Strong two parent supportive household. All that was missing were the apron and pearls.

This girl came out of the gates talking about a modernized Riverdale with two girls who would be actually close and not vying for the same redhead. Feel free to add/or correct along the way of course...especially early on when not following as closely.

We got very little in the way of insight into Cole and Lili because they were trying to keep it quiet even if there were hints together. Mostly during this period what fans were fed was that she was slightly awkward socially, maybe not the most intellectual but nice and harmless. She spoke of empowering women, independence, she constantly shut down the idea of Barchie and praised Bughead. Along through the year’s she would speak to social bullying or bullying in general. She would openly talk about struggles with mental health. She’d talk and show her cystic acne and share photos not all airbrushed in ode to body positivity. She’d talk about not having an hourglass figure, and cellulite and often go out in ratty shorts and a bun sans makeup. You see she’d talk about it then follow through by showing lived the walk or calling out photoshops done of her.

Again this is “relatable girl next door quirky Lili” we told was the REAL Lili.

She would frequently talk and post about her family and dogs at home and how much she loved and missed them...though oddly not so much her older sister.

At a certain point it became undeniable Cole and Lili were together to even the hardest deniers. Of course also the Met gala eventually made official for media.

We get have her liking posts such as Miley’s about how lucky she was to have a man who checked off all the boxes. But at times there were glimpses all wasn’t kosher. People have mentioned various cons where she’d be caught flirting somewhere else, or she’d be in a bad mood giving Cole a cold shoulder. We recently saw an old video of them walking and her basically demanding he drop the fans and attend her. We have the con were Camilla is sexually harassing Cole everywhere and Lili doesn’t shut it down until Camilla tries to grind on him. It was so bad even Mads intervened. We have the interview where she is talking over him or rolling her eyes and basically being the unprofessional brat her fans claim she is not. Even though it’s ON CAMERA. Snapping at your co worker/boyfriend and rolling your eyes during a professional interview is not deniable.

Flashforward to the trip to Italy because for me there was always something off about that. That trip was obviously planned far in advance. Clearly Lili was supposed to be there. Her fans quickly blamed Cole because Lili was working. Lili didn’t have to work. It wasn’t a career changing move to do that film. It did not do well. I’m not entirely sure what was happening around that time but I have the sense Cole was disappointed/a  little angry she prioritized it over him accepting very likely the offer AFTER the trip was planned.

Lili spirals during this time. Cole comes back to clean up mess. They are quiet on social media for a long time then slowly emerge again and eventually get the photo booth shots, the wedding and her mingling with NY friends for once. Turns out close to the end for them.

I don’t want to make this a Sprousehart post though although some relevance to bring part of it up. The point is Lili put her career over her relationship. It was a calculated decision. It was also the wrong decision. Her fans talk about her being this warm giving person but that was a cynical call and a pretty lousy thing to do to your boyfriend of several year’s. I’m all for supportive partners but there are time’s where you make sacrifices if you really care for someone and this was a special trip planned long in advance. She blew it off. If I’m the partner she does this too, I question why I’m putting in the effort if it doesn’t mean to them what it means to me. 

TBH I think the bad choices she made there is why tried to make it up by meeting with his friends, the wedding etc...

Something than clearly happened because by January they were done. Not sure we’ll ever know but it looked like they were trying to fix things given the happiness hadn’t seen on Cole’s faces in a long time in those booth pics and then...it was done. We didn’t know at the time, but this is timeline Cole gave. There was a brief attempt at reconciliation where she babysits him at a photo shoot and posts a photo of them in bed and then shortly after...Cole calls it off. 

He heads to LA, she follows him there but not without making sure to shove Casey’s face into her chest to post and rent a place close to where he is staying. She posts weepy messages about the world ending etc....and weird new photos mimicking old shoots with him so naturally people think this means whatever happened they worked through. Around same time she and hers manipulated her fans to try to cancel him earlier because she misunderstood a picture of Kaia....although flat out if he had been with Kaia he was SINGLE and it was no longer her business.

She tries to walk back the firestorm she unleashed on him by “defending” him from a lesser twitter trend after realizing misconstrued the Kaia picture, All summer she weirdly seems to be trying to avoid the topic if they are together or not despite saying once if they weren’t she’d tell people. She finally puts her foot in her mouth one two many times' and Cole confirms they broke up which she doesn’t acknowledge. Because she doesn’t want to be broken up.

As we know know it wasn’t all rainbows on the set even before all this happened as in the musical she’d launched an object at him hard enough to have the crew concerned. Lili fans keep saying Cole is abusive but the only evidence we have of abuse is her towards him. We also had her suddenly doing a 180 from past 4 year’s and excusing cheating with Archie and promoting everyone in her live recaps except Cole/Jughead.

Back to the events following Cole’s post....then we get a sudden string of interviews taking shots at Cole, doxxing him, implying he could have strayed (just to resurrect hate against him) but can’t say he actually did because she has no proof. We know this because in those chats admit it was just suspicion and paranoia and never did have any names.

We learn that Lili has been funneling news and gossip and photos to keep her mother’s hold on the fandom in check and her mother in turn has been bullying people who would stand on Cole’s side. They sought to ruin him. This is not debatable.

For year’s people had made fun and called Bree out for being an obsessive stalker unable to let a relationship go, then Lili starts doing the same. We know she has tried to copy Ari’s style, her mother made a snide comment about breast size, Lili tried to taunt Ari from on set and Ari shut her down. A girl who almost never was in the line of sight of paps suddenly is snapped everyday following break up even before the public new. That doesn’t just happen. She wanted the attention.

I’m not going to go into all of it, you all know it. Suffice to say revealing she has a bitter vindictive attitude she has submersed herself in ever since Cole made it clear no reunion. She won’t even broach the topic of Bughead/Jughead unless forced. You can spin all you like but the split screens was not an artistic choice by RD. It was spurred by need to keep them apart.

Lili last summer was doing precious little other than a post or two of Black Lives matter and then when Cole gets arrested suddenly she jumps on the me too and sets up impulsive lives. Maybe she meant well but a part of me thinks she did it to attract his attention. Notice once she got praise for it and the initial protests faded she more or less doesn’t bring it up anymore. Cole never intended to get attention, it just happened because he’s a star and got taken in to a jail cell. He never put himself on camera for notice. 

Lili also co-opts the murder of a girl to flaunt she thinks she looks good naked. Completely tone deaf. 

Lili very rarely is seen in fan photos, only usually when she’s getting flack for it online. She, a girl who talks about bullying, went on a  midnight tirade against a guy who dares to critique or poetry setting her fans on him. Then deleted it probably because publicist in her ear.

She first said poems not about Cole, than said you could read into what you wanted to sell them. Now she doesn’t want to talk poetry or sequels because it flopped and was critically panned.

There are constant rumors about Lili on sets of productions to point they even had someone on her newer movie try to downplay. Yet we see in a video the cast barely talking and looking tense on a boat. 

The girl who used to talk about body positivity now lets them airbrush abs onto her.

The girl who used to talk of therapy and mental illness now promotes OTC supplements for $ and cults.

If she mentions cellulite she uses other tik toks of people showing not her own. 

She said she would never be on tik tok, yet now has her own and post old videos that aren’t funny.

Lili once tired to attack Cole by talking about losing yourself in drugs or alcohol or sex yet we’ve seen her drug paraphernalia because she advertises. Her friends post and laugh over her being drunk. She was in an off and on relationship with Wallis that doesn’t seem to be about anything but sex.

We were told Coles friends are bad influences but Taylor is out there solicitating questionable clients and making videos slamming LILI’S COWORKER as a bad actor and his brother,

The majority of Lili’s posts no longer feature Sunny or her family/Addy. 

She insulted Vancouver, compared to a prison, and made it clear her creature comforts were of more importance than a pandemic. Not quite the attitude of an empath. Which she claims she is with intention to be a master which require sucking more gullible people into the cult.

She brags about being a “rich man” without understand the context. She went from artistic photos to modeling pinups to fuel her lack of self esteem.

She’s in her mid 20′s, claims she had grown and matured in the last year but there is no evidence of it. Still can’t work with her ex without buffers which still influences show direction though her fans deny.. Still lives off junk food and hangovers. Those glasses aren’t just for sun. Her timeline is mostly an ode to her vanity with pictures of herself and then her dog. She doesn’t seem to have any causes she’s deeply involved in on the side apart from her cult. She’s still stalking Cole as her impulsive makeup tutorial showed. She said she cut out of her life anyone who doesn’t service her. I highly doubt she is receiving quality therapy on the regular right now. She still does not seem to possess the ability to own her mistakes and apologize when warranted, rather deflects or erases when heat becomes too hot.

The content she puts out about herself post break up is very different than the bill of goods fans were sold before. She is a far cry from that quirky girl next door that stood FOR something more than vanity and shallow affirmation. So no, I don’t see what you see in her stans. Everything that once seemed to distinguish her from other spoilt princesses has long faded. 

[meltingheartsandcores]

I’m tired, I should be studying, instead I wrote this little ficlet that should probably be the prologue to an actual fic that I might get around to writing (fingers crossed).

We have Immortals, modern sects, and porn. Not entirely sure how else to explain it except none of those are explicit, lol.

Hope you enjoy the product of my mildly sleep deprieved brain!

Being invited to have tea with Zewu-Jun was a high honor, despite the immortal seemingly trying to downplay it as much as he possibly could. However, Nie Mingjue isn’t entirely sure what he’s done to earn the honor. It’s been a long time since either Twin Jade was the Sect Leader, Nie Mingjue has spoken with the current Sect Leader Lan Tengfei infrequently over the years when their sect business intermingled or there was a conference, but he wasn’t particularly close to the Lan Sect. And the Twin Jades enjoy their privacy. Enough so that there’s not a single photograph of either of them out there.

So it was very startingly to get the invitation.

Zewu-Jun treating him like an equal and friend is equally startling.

Somehow, not the most startling thing to happen on the trip. No, that would be the portrait of Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang’s husband. He thinks. Nie Mingjue isn’t actually sure if they’re married or just act like it. Although, knowing them, that’s how they want everyone to think.

Still, the clearly very old portrait of Wei Wuxian was a little disturbing. Especially with the name below being Wei Wuxian’s, correct characters and all. Even more so after Zewu-Jun noticed him staring at it and decides to give him some utterly terrible information.

“My brother’s husband, from his first life.” Oh. It was that Wei Wuxian. Yiling Lazou Wei Wuxian.

How is this getting worse?

“Oh?” Because screaming was undignified and not something to be done in front of immortals. Later. In his car. And then he’s calling Nie Huaisang to yell at him because of course his brother just had to shake up with the immortals husband. Maybe. Maybe it’s just a massive coincidence. (Nie Mingjue’s luck is never good enough for coincidences.)

“Yes, after the resurrection his core was never strong enough to cultivate immortality. When Wangji realized it, he tried to stop his own cultivation, but it was too late. Wuxian lasted nearly two hundred years, and not a day goes by that Wangji doesn’t miss him.” Oh, Zewu-Jun was sad. Nothing Nie Mingjue can say will make him not sad. In fact, he’s pretty sure anything close to the truth of what Wei Wuxian is doing now will just upset him. “The juniors find it, romantic, that he’s decided to wait for Wuxian to be reincarnated.”

Well. It does sound romantic.

But Zewu-Jun’s face, he’s irritated and upset, so clearly he doesn’t agree with the juniors. It sounds romantic, but the reality, “He must be very lonely.” Nie Mingjue guesses.

Zewu-Jun nods, “We have each other, but we were the only ones from our generation to cultivate immortality. There are many people we miss, and as time seperates us further from the present, it’s harder to connect with the new disciples.” Zewu-Jun admits. Nie Mingjue nods, he’s never considered that. How isolating it must be to have lived so long. The Nie clan, doesn’t really get immortals. Honestly, they’re lucky if they hit a hundred. Most top out at eighty due to their cultivation style.

“How would he know, that he’s been reincarnated? I mean, I think Huaisang’s said some things about faces getting reused due to limited genetics and the growing population.” Actually Wei Wuxian said that. Something to that effect at least. Nie Huaisang was better with people and manipulating situations. He does really well running the business side of the Nie Sect. Even if he refuses to accept any credit.

Zewu-Jun smiles a little sadly, “Well, I suppose we’ll know when we see him. Pictures work well enough, as we’re learning. We’ve found a few people who we knew in our first lives reincarnated.”

Nie Mingjue nods, he should tell Zewu-Jun. He really should. Maybe it’s just a look alike. Unlikely. Nie Mingjue’s never that lucky. Nie Mingjue’s started to pull his phone out of his pocket before remembering his manners and asking while holding it in front of himself, “Uh, do you mind if I?” Zewu-Jun furrows his brow but gestures for him to continue. Nie Mingjue nods and opens his phone, scrolling through the pictures Nie Huaisang had sent him. Not for the first time, he really wished Nie Huaisang wouldn’t send so many half-naked or fully-naked pictures of Wei Wuxian to him. Thankfully, it was not all Nie Huaisang sent to him, so he did come across a picture of a fully dressed Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang was also there, but they weren’t doing anything. Nie Huaisang had snapped it while they were out walking and Nie Mingjue had wanted to know where the fuck Nie Huaisang had gone at one am. “Just, uh, he seemed familiar.” Nie Mingjue explains, turning the phone around to show Zewu-Jun.

Zewu-Jun blinks then reaches out, hesitating a moment before taking Nie Mingjue’s phone. “That. Is definitely Wei Wuxian.” Zewu-Jun states, and then he starts touching the screen, which makes Nie Mingjue very nervous and uncomfortable. Because Nie Huaisang sends him very questionable pictures. Nie Mingjue is happy his brother is comfortable with his body, he just wishes he wouldn’t text him explicit pictures of his maybe-boyfriend that sometimes also have him naked in them. Nie Huaisang has always like pushing Nie Mingjue’s boundaries, and honestly, Nie Mingjue would rather he be pushing this one than certain other ones. Still. It makes him nervous when Zewu-Jun taps his phone and his eyes blow wide.

Yeah. That’s not good.

Zewu-Jun blinks and regains his composure, handing the phone back, “May I ask how you know him?”

“...How honest do you want me to be?” Nie Mingjue asks, shutting off his phone and pocketing it without looking at whatever Zewu-Jun saw. He’d like to be able to keep looking Zewu-Jun in the eye for this conversation.

Zewu-Jun raises an eyebrow, almost admonishingly, “As honest as possible. You don’t seem to type to beat around the bush.”

He wasn’t. He just really didn’t want to tell Zewu-Jun what Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian get up to.

“He works with my brother.” Nie Mingjue states vaguely, earning another raised eyebrow from Zewu-Jun.

“Is he a cultivator?”

“Used to be. He had a big falling out with the Jiang a few years back and kind of stopped.” Nie Mingjue shrugs, “He doesn’t talk about it.” All he knew about it was rumour. And the Lans don’t do rumours.

“Ah. So what work does he do with Huaisang?”

...Did he tell Zewu-Jun his brothers name? Nie Huaisang is almost as unknown to the world as the Twin Jades. Purposefully so. The Nie have always been rather private with their members, but when Nie Huaisang was old enough to have an opinion on a public presence and vehemently deny having one, nothing about him was released to the public. Not even other cultivation sects as Nie Huaisang wasn’t a practicing cultivator. He trained. As he was supposed to. But he didn’t do any night hunts. He had no connection to Nie Mingjue on the business end of the Sect either.

So, what?

“How do you know his name?” Nie Mingjue asks, making Zewu-Jun blink in plain confusion. “Huaisang’s name isn’t known to anyone outside the Nie sect. Not in connection to me.” Nie Mingjue states, now a little angry. Did someone tell Zewu-Jun? Who? How? Why would he even care about Huaisang?

“He’s in your phone.” Zewu-Jun states simply.

And that’d be a fine answer.

If Nie Huaisang was ‘Huaisang’ in his phone.

But he wasn’t.

He was Reuben. Courtesy of Wei Wuxian. (Wei Wuxian was ‘Stitch’, no Nie Mingjue didn’t understand the names and he didn’t really want to. He’s mostly worried it’s a weird sex thing and he prefers to be as ignorant as possible in that aspect.)

“I thought Lan’s don’t lie.” Although, Zewu-Jun wasn’t, technically, lying.

But he doesn’t deny it. “Could we sit?” Zewu-Jun suggests, gesturing to the table that had been set up for them. Nie Mingjue nods and sits opposite to Zewu-Jun, pouring them some tea. “I apologize for the deception, however I’ve never actually done this before.” He better not be suggesting what Nie Mingjue thinks he’s suggesting. “In the recent past, when we’ve discovered our reincarnated friends, we’ve more or less left them alone.” Oh. Good. He’s not being propositioned.

Wait.

What?

Nie Mingjue blinks, now thoroughly caught off guard, “Um. What.”

Zewu-Jun smiles gently, understandingly, “Due to certain aspects of your previous life, I felt the need to check in on you, make sure you were doing well. I, well, I assumed your family was the same. Hence, why I know Huaisang’s name despite you keeping him rather off the grid.”

“He’s not off the grid. He just has no public connection to me.” Nie Huaisang was almost constantly online. Especially with his ‘job’.

“Ah. So, what work does he and Wei Wuxian do?” Zewu-Jun asks before taking a drink of his tea.

Nie Mingjue considers what he knows about the Lan, and then realizes he really doesn’t want to have this conversation. Luckily for him (or unluckily most of the time), he can just show Zewu-Jun on his phone. “Um, you might want to put that down.” Nie Mingjue suggests, pulling out his phone and turning it on, quickly going to the app Nie Huaisang downloaded on his phone that he never goes on, and opens it up to Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian’s account. Sliding it across the table as Zewu-Jun dubiously puts down his teacup.

Zewu-Jun blinks, then sighs, “I can’t say, I’m particularly surprised with Wei Wuxian’s career choice.”

“...Seriously.”

“You did not hear them. I’m aware of the publics perception of us, particularly Wangji, but trust me. He’s not nearly as prudish as people seem to think.” Zewu-Jun states, sliding the phone back with a rueful smile and a familiar look.

Nie Mingjue exits out of the app before shutting off and pocketing his phone. He knew that look. The look of an elder brother who really didn’t need to know so much about their younger brother’s sex life. He knew that look well. “Right. Speaking of Hanguang-Jun, how would he react?”

Zewu-Jun purses his lips. “I can’t say he’ll be particularly favourable. Wangji’s always been quite, possessive.”

“Wei Wuxian is persuasive. I’m kind of curious as to who would falter first.” Nie Mingjue snorts, picking up his own cup of tea. It was good tea.

Zewu-Jun’s eyebrows were furrowed, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Wuxian’s not going give up his livelyhood. He enjoys it. Even if he falls back in love with Hanguang-Jun, I’m not sure he’ll quit it.” Nie Mingjue states, shaking his head. It was an understatement. Wei Wuxian loves his job. As he so often gushes. Nie Mingjue’s honestly just happy Wei Wuxian doesn’t give him details.

Zewu-Jun slowly nods, understanding dawning, “You think Wei-gongzi will convince Wangji to do porn.” Zewu-Jun winces, “I, hate that I cannot say it’s out of the realm of possibilities.”

Nie Mingjue snorts and then smirks, “Ah, Zewu-Jun, how about a friendly bet?”

Zewu-Jun’s brows pinch slightly, eye narrowing, before he smirks, “Only if you call me Lan Xichen.”

Ohhhkay. Zewu-Jun had said to at the beginning of their meeting, but Nie Mingjue had honestly kind of ignored it. Immortals are a big deal. But then again. He was about to gamble with one. “Ok, Lan Xichen, why don’t we make a bet in favour of our, brothers.” Nie Mingjue isn’t entirely sure what else to refer to them as. If Nie Huaisang was married, then technically Wei Wuxian would be his brother. If they’re not, he might as well be at this point either way.

“Are Huaisang and Wuxian married?” Lan Xichen cuts in, confused.

“I’m not entirely sure. Maybe. Not important.” Nie Mingjue shakes his head, “If Hanguang-Jun manages to convince Wei Wuxian to quit his work, you win, and if Wei Wuxian manages to convince Hanguang-Jun to do porn, I win.”

Lan Xichen nods, smiling with interest, “And what are we betting?”

Nie Mingjue smirks, this was going to be fun.

[plush-rabbit]

Shigaraki Dating An Artist Headcanons

A/N: I made it more focused on traditional art because that’s what I do so… yeah. There’s hints to digital but idk how that works so!!

Shigaraki always sees you buried deep in a black notebook with a pencil scribbling over and throwing eraser shavings into a trashcan. He isn’t interested in it at first, brushing it off but when Toga starts to clap and praise on well you draw and how you bow your head and shake your head rapidly, his interest is peaked.

He often comes in when you’re drawing Toga. Despite how bubbly she is, if you ask her to do a pose, she’s more than willing to stand still for a while, as long as you let her keep the portrait that is. He tries to take a peak but you brush him off, telling him you’ll show him later but surprisingly Himiko already took the portrait and you’ve already put away your journal and it’s so late. Well, good night Tomura and you place a kiss on his cheek and snuggle close to him.

He’s a bit peeved that you won’t share your artwork but he’ll roll his eyes and push down the bitter feeling rising in him. That is until Twice and Mr. Compress take a peak and suddenly they want to pose and it practically takes away all of the time, you two have together! No, he isn’t jealous; he just doesn’t want to be waiting ten minutes for you to never show up. He’s not jealous, really!

But then you go up to Spinner and you shyly ask if he’ll let you draw him. You just got these new colors and he has such pretty scales and in somewhere you hear a door slam. Okay so he might be a bit jealous that you’ve shown practically everyone your sketchbook and you’ve been drawing them too and you haven’t asked him but whatever. You also haven’t asked Dabi so it’s fine.

But then Dabi pops his head into his room and holds up a rolled piece of paper and pulls it down so your signature is visible and he has the audacity to smirk as him and give him a peace sign as he leaves the door open. Okay so everyone has seen your sketch book, whatever. He’s not gnawing on his lips and looking at the desk where you tuck away your sketch book.

You’re not home. You’re out doing something- Shigaraki thinks he heard you say you had to get new nubs or pens? He isn’t entirely sure, he was only half listening as his mind was somewhere else. You’ve been gone for a while so you probably wouldn’t be back if he were going to take a peak. He gives a glance at the door, checks his messages and then he’s off the bed and on his knees, pulling out your sketchbook and he feels a bit bad but his curiosity wins over.

You’re drawings are detailed, some have color, others don’t. The texture of the paper is a bit thick and it’s until he comes across a watercolor painting does he realize why. You have different styles of everything, some are sketches of the League together, most separate and with different symbols around some. Others are of people he doesn’t know, some anime characters he presumes and maybe a few original characters with the notes doted on the side. You have different styles, different shapes and things all around.

They’re really good. You’re really good. He likes the colors you use. He likes the imagery and wow, you’re really good. He reaches the end quickly, given each work a glance and appreciative hum. But he frowns. Where was he? You drew everyone from the League and even people who weren’t real so where was he? Surely you must have drawn him at one point. But he keeps flipping and looking in the back of pages and there’s not even a doodle of him.

“Tomura, what are you doing?” You hold a plastic bag of art supplies in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other.

“Where am I?” He gets right to the point, rising to his feet and holding the sketchbook carefully in his hand, pushed outwards to you.

Your mouth is pulled into a thin line and you walk past him to drop the bags on the bed. He follows you with his eyes and you grab the sketch book from his hand and put it against your chest. You can’t meet his eyes and your leg is bouncing.

“You’re not in this one,” you mutter.

“Yeah, I know so—”

“You’re in my other one,” you look up at him and quickly avert your gaze. “I- I like drawing you- a lot- so I have on mainly just for you.”

“Really?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes. It’s embarrassing. So—”

“Can I see it?” His eyes are wide and he takes a step closer to you.

“Tomura, it’s embarrassing!”

“We’re dating,” he deadpans, holding his palm out to you. When you look at him shyly, he rolls his eyes. “Please.”

“Admit you were jealous,” you pipe, bouncing on your heels and a slow smile curving onto your features.

“I was not—”

“Then no.” You turn around and begin to rummage through a plastic bag, pulling out the contents and dropping them on the bed.

“Ugh, fine. I was jealous. Now let me see.”

You stand up straight and flash him a grin. You kneel down and pull out a smaller sketch book, holding it out for him. He takes it quickly, going to sit down on the bed and he begins to flipping through it carefully.

As you said, there are drawings of him there. He’s asleep in a few, in others he’s eating, smiling, in a few he’s wearing outfits he doesn’t own and when he looks at you, your head is bowed and you’re clutching the sides of the desk until your knuckles pale. They’re all really good. In a few, you’ve only colored his eyes, other’s you color his hair. He wonders if it holds any symbolic meaning.

“They’re really good.”

“Yeah?” You ask, head still turned away from his. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do. Why didn’t you show these to me before?” His finger runs through the edge of the pages.

You shrug. “It’s a lot of pages of you. ‘Fraid you were gonna get a big ego or something,” you joke lightly, face flushed when you look back at him. “Sorry.”

He nods slowly and closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. “Well, if you ever need to draw me again,” he scratches the back of his neck, “well, you know.”

You rise and press a kiss against his cheek. “I know.” You lean on his shoulder and run your fingers against the back of his hand. “And I will.”

[random-imagines-blog]

Empty Walls {Sirius Back x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2380 Summary: A lot of the order is pretty untrusting of any Slytherins joining their midst - but there is one person who accepts you. Warnings: Mentions of character death.

Molly Weasley shoved a plate of food in front of you, so harshly that little puddles of gravy spilt onto the table, making a small mess. You thanked her regardless of her hostility, and cleaned up the gravy with your own napkin, embroidered with your initials. She was a wonderfully sweet woman most of the time - but you just so happened to be a Malfoy. Despite your loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix, many of its members still didn’t trust you yet, because of your surname. It was more about that than the fact that you had been in Slytherin, while everyone else around here seemed either to be a Gryffindor or even a Hufflepuff. You tied your blonde hair out of your face and started to eat self-consciously, knowing that there were eyes on you no matter what. Sirius Black’s to be specific. He always seemed to be watching.

The room filled with the sound of eating as everyone dug into Molly’s delicious food. You were the first done, vacating your seat quickly and washed the dish - by hand - in the sink. You had grown up completely spoiled, with the house elves doing all of the cooking and cleaning, so earning your place here had been difficult at first. You didn’t mean to be spoiled. You just couldn’t help how you were raised.

Grimmauld Place. It was dark and it was dingy, but there was one place in this house in particular that you were drawn to. The wall with the family portraits - your own included. All of the little faces of your family, and then the burned out one of Mr. Sirius Black. Your eyes went to your brother and you smirked to yourself. He was painted in that little hat. He always hated that picture, which made you love it even more. You then saw your parents, Lucius and Narcissa. They both looked a little snooty, which was how they tended to appear to the world. But they were never like that when it was just the family together. Your fingers graced your mother’s face. You missed her, a lot. She still sent you owls, and your father would always add his own little notes. They loved you, despite the fact that most of their friends saw you as a traitor. That your actions nearly put a bounty on their own heads, like the rest of the order.

But you were going to help take him down before he could try to collect.

“Do you really like staring at your own face that much?” A deep voice came from behind you. You didn’t turn around. It was Mr. Black himself. He always seemed to be following you around. He was probably the most mistrustful of the lot. You just ignored him, and put your fingers over your father. You missed him as well. His opinion was the one that you had been most scared of - but you were doing what he was too cowardly to do. You were making the right choice.

You didn’t even pay attention to your little portrait. You knew what you looked like. You didn’t give into the vanity that the rest of the Malfoys seemed to have. You preferred knowledge over looks.

“It’s not that bad of a picture. Mine was awful. They made me cut my hair for it, so I looked like some dapper gentleman,” Sirius said. He had come and stood right behind you. You didn’t realize how close he was until then. If you took even one step backwards, you would have bumped into him.

“So it’s a good thing that your place is burnt out then?” You asked.

“I like to think of it more as an empty space,” Sirius said. “I’ll probably paint over the whole damn thing one of these days. Most of these people, I don’t feel like I’m that related to anyway. Like you.”

“We’re  hardly related. It’s like ... many branches away,” You said with a shrug. He may be some sort of cousin but it never felt that way to you either. When you looked at him, you saw ... well, a handsome man, even with all of that hair and those tattoos. You had seen photos of him when he was younger and you had some pretty obscene thoughts one should not be having over family members. He’d been, to put it roughly, a hunk. “Why haven’t you painted over it by now?”

“The room needed some sort of decor,” Sirius shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d do with an empty wall.”

“Well, knowing you, I’m sure you’d hang a very flattering portrait of yourself,” You mused, clicking your tongue. “Dorian Gray style.”

“What?” Sirius asked. You laughed then, remembering that someone like him probably hasn’t picked up a book since his time at Hogwarts, let alone one written by a muggle.

“Nothing,” You said, shaking your head. “So what can I help you with? Does Molly need help with something?”

“Why would Molly need help with anything?” Sirius asked, taking a seat in one of his favorite chairs in the bedroom.

“I don’t know - you all seem to think that housework is female only work-” You started but Sirius cut you off.

“Not at all,” He said, shaking his head, those unruly waves flying around him. “I actually wanted to talk to you myself. And it’s really not about housework.”

“Well, talk away,” You said, settling into a chair of your own, facing away from those painted walls.

“I’ve been keeping my eye on you for a while now. I knew your father back in school and-”

“Yes, I’ve heard some of the stories,” You interrupted, crossing your legs. “There’s no need to go into a lot of backstory. I know you don’t trust me and that’s what you want to talk about, isn’t it?”

“Do you always go around making up all of these assumptions?” Sirius asked, curiously. “I don’t distrust you, I actually wanted to tell you that I think you’re doing an amazing job. Especially for someone so young.”

Your mouth went dry at the unexpected praise that he was bestowing on you. “Well, thanks. That actually means a lot to me. It’s been hard, since I had to give up everything but saving the world seems pretty worth it. Wanna tell Molly what you think, because that woman has had it out for me since day one.”

“She’ll come around. She’s just mistrustful of Slytherins, that’s all.”

You were quiet for a couple of minutes there, thinking about all of the times that you had tried to proven yourself to the Order. You had gone out on dangerous missions without hesitation. You had fought people who had once been dear family friends. You were trying to protect the world, which seemed bigger than just one family.

“Guess I just have to give it time - and hope that we have enough of it,” You sighed, realizing there wasn’t much in this situation that you could do. “You’re not so bad yourself, Black. Even if you come from a family of, well, us. Snakes and all.”

“Thanks,” He chuckled. “I’ll take that to heart.”

-

Since you had already graduated from Hogwarts, you spent a lot of time among the rest of the adults. Molly was finally warming up to you just a little, if only because she had no children to keep her busy now that they were all back at school. You were one of the youngest in the Order, having just left school the year before, and so she doted on you. Or, at the very least, she didn’t make a mess of your food anymore.

“Fancy taking me for a walk?” Sirius asked you one day, leash in hand. You laughed, knowing exactly what he had meant. It was the only way that he could leave this house. Being disguised as Snuffles, the big black dog. And the only way not to get Animal Control called on him was to have someone walk him around.

You nodded, also feeling the need to get out of the stifling nature of the house. Get away from the screams of the portrait and the gloominess that clung around every corer despite you and Molly’s attempt to cheer the place up a bit. Sirius turned into his dog form, and you put the leash and collar on him - which always felt weird, no matter how many times you did it. His tongue lolled out as he grew excited for the fresh air and it was enough to make you laugh.

These walks became more and more frequent - especially because sometimes, when you were in a more isolated part of town, Sirius would turn back into his human self and you would have a coffee and sit in a park, enjoying the early fall nature. You ended up having some really long conversations. About everything. You told him some stories about his godson, Harry, and his friends at school - they were rather infamous and it seemed like you knew a lot about them despite not being in their house. And your brother’s complaints, of course.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were falling for this much older man, despite the age gap and the fact that he had been in Azkaban for years, and that this was hardly the time for love, given the fact that there was a war that was growing in importance more and more each day.

-

“To the ones that we have lost,” Arthur Weasley said, raising his glass in toast over his head.

It was  not a happy occasion that you were celebrating here tonight, back at Grimmauld Place. “To the ones that we have lost,” you toasted back in return. And then you drank deeply from your flask - Firewhiskey having become a solace these days.

Sirius was taking things particularly hard - the war may be over, but the cost of that victory was entirely too high. He was tearing himself apart about it, but you couldn’t blame him. He lost his only other best friend. And the Weasleys had lost two sons - one to death, and one to the attack of a werewolf, though Bill was pulling through swimmingly.

You stood up slowly, which garnered the attention of the rest of the people around you. “I can’t be here,” You admitted, finding it too hard to be around loved ones, when they weren’t exactly the ones that you wanted.

You went down the hallway into the room with the family portrait on it, your wand in your hand as you closed the door, but you did not lock it. “What have you done to be remembered for?” You asked the portrait of yourself, and of your parents.

“I think this is a long time coming,” Sirius said, staggering into the room. “Patat Pingere.”

“What are you doing?” You asked, as the paint started to peel off of the walls, and then dissolve into nothing, leaving only the bare baseboards that they must have been before the family tree. You watched as you, your parents and the rest of them just seemed to disappear, like you never existed.

“You deserve to be remembered,” Sirius said, leaning against the doorframe, taking in the sight of all of that white. “So we’ll repaint you now, as you are. And... and Remus. And Tonks. And Fred... the others...”

You nodded, looking at the potential of it now. All of the noble house of Black had disappeared, and most of them were better off being remembered - entirely unlike everyone that you had just lost, and whose death was still pulling at your heart.

“And yours,” You said, looking over at Sirius. You were surprised to see that his head was down, and a sob racked through his entire body, and he was barely keeping himself upright.

You rushed to his side and took his weight upon your shoulder, half-dragging and half-carrying him to his favorite chair and helped to lower him into it. He didn’t let you go, so you had no choice but to sit with him. You curled up in his lap like a kitten, and he held you while sobbing into the shoulder of your robes.

You were through with crying - you’ve made yourself dehydrated with it and nothing ever seemed to get better, but seeing Sirius like this was still draining nonetheless. “You’re not completely alone Sirius - you have me.”

That seemed to help somewhat, for his shoulders stopped shaking as much, but he did continue to hold onto you tightly, making sure that you could not leave, even if you had wanted to. You didn’t want to, you wanted to stay and make sure that he knew - that he knew that you would not leave him.

“I love you.”

You weren’t expecting that from him, especially not at this time, but you began to run your fingers through the dirty, straggly hair.

“I love you too.”

“Don’t just say that if you don’t mean it. I can’t take anything more, I just-”

You’ve never seen him so vulnerable before. Even when he was in the middle of a fight, with spells going around him, narrowly missing him, he usually had some excitement showing on his face. But this was a defeated man, who seemed ready to break at the slightest negativity.

“I mean it, with every bit of me. I really, truly do,” You told him, detangling a few knots with your fingers, your wand having dropped on the floor when it seemed like he was falling. “I love you, Sirius Black.”

“Can we fix this - these empty walls?” Sirius’s head rose just a little.

You nodded, looking into his dark eyes, which had the same expression as a dog that had just been kicked. “Yes, I think we can. I know we can. Let’s start tomorrow.”

[chronicalchaos]

Wick modern AU: Explained +Some fun facts

Uhm, i was gonna wait until i finish this AU's synopsis and new book cover, but both will be taking a while until they get ready...

And i wanted to post this "overview" for a while now, anyways, here's some fun facts and a summary of the story:

Old book cover:

I'm really proud of Sam's shading, but the twins look weird and Tom looks old...I won't use this cover, 'cus Travis and Duncan are main characters as well and i want to include them on the cover. +My art style changed!

Story summary:

Just a quick thing! I changed quite a few things to fit the narrative and the modern days setting, i hope you understand!

The story of this AU happens in September 2014, a little less than a month until Sam’s birthday, where the Weavers aren't dead– Well, most of them aren't...

The narrative is centered on a curse, that was based on the audio that plays when you pick up Benny's bible, where 7 people are affected by it: Tim, Tom, John, Sam, John's brother/Sam's dad(I won't name him), Mary and James.

Sam's, Travis' and Duncan's side of the story will be more on the investigative side maybe with a bit of comedy(I'm not good with writing that, so it will most likely be just investigation), while Tim and Tom's side will be the more angst and unusual/horror side. Sam will have a bit of horror as well, since he's linked with them by the curse, but the twins will definitely have the spotlight when it comes to horror/unusual stuff.

Fun Facts:

General:

The story happens a week, maybe a bit more, after summer break

Even tho one of the first chapters is set on school, them going to school will probably just be mentioned or implied, Example: Them leaving a school bus

For some reason, i saw a few stories where everyone knew what polio is and how it works, which i felt it wouldn't be realistic, so that won't happen here

It has a lot of paranormal stuff

The summer camp by the Weaver's property is closed and has been like that for a few years now

Just Mary and James call the twins Changelings, the rest of the city knows there are "changelings" walking around, just, not that the twins are them

There's no changelings, they think there is, but in reality it's just a curse(like that's something lighter than a demon switched with a child at birth)

The song that helps me get in the mood of this story when I'm writing is "Far too young to die" by Panic! At the disco

Timas Weaver:

Tim is 12, he'll be 13 in...approximately 3 months

He was born December 30th 2001 and is the oldest between him and Tom

He's almost an inch shorter than Tom

He has a huge burn scar! It goes from a bit more than half of his chest, both his arms, his palms and his whole neck, he got that scar when he was 3 years old

He's does not have asthma, but he does have extreme pyrophobia on it's place

He has flat affect, his face doesn't match his emotions/he looks serious most of the time(I'm so sorry if I don't portrait it right! Please give me constructive criticism if I do something wrong here!)

He's a theater kid and would be quoting a lot of musicals if Mary didn't isolate him and Tom from the world(The theater part only exists because of his and Tom's masks)

The whittling thing exists here, but like, it won't be of much importance to the story, the knife will! But not the whittle part

He despises spiders and it's Tom's fault!

He climbs trees (there's not much I can say here to be honest)

He has this...i don't know if you can call it a quirk, but, he tends to tilt his head to the left, it's kinda random

He's ambidextrous, was left handed, but Mary forced him to learn to use his right hand

He teached himself how to throw knifes...don't mess with him

Paranoia!

Needs therapy

Tomathy Weaver:

Tom is 12 and will be 13 in approximately 3 months

He was born December 30th 2001 and is the youngest between him and Tim

He's almost an inch taller than Tim

He doesn't have Polio now, he did when he was...around 5 years old

His left leg is bigger than his right one, his right feet reaches his left ankle

His left ankle is paralyzed, that's why he uses a leg brace

He's claustrophobic, he developed that on the same day Tim got his scar and pyrophobia

He won first place on a spelling bee before he got Polio and he used to spell when he got anxious, but after John's disappearence he started shuddering, shaking and cracking his joints instead, very similar to how he shudders on the game

He loves spiders!

He is really flexible, but, because of his polio, he can't play around with it anymore

He likes to draw

He has pretty bad scoliosis

Paranoia #2!

Socially awkward baby

Went to therapy when little, needs to go back

Caleb Weaver:

Caleb is 9 years old

He was born August 19th 2005

He's almost the same height as Timas

He was a year old when Tom had polio

He's actually James' kid, not John's

He won first place in 2014's(the year the story happens) county track meet

He dislikes Tim

Lillian Weaver:

Lillian is 5 years old

She was born February 28th 2009

She's a bit tall for her age

She's notorious for making little deals between her and her siblings, like helping them get away with something in exchange of something(getting her out of class during their recess, buying a new plushy, etc.)

She's a really curious and affectionate kid, loves hugs, kisses and especially being picked on someone's lap

She loves bunnies(even tho this isn't a surprise)

Benjamin Weaver:

Benjamin is 14 years old and will be 15 in less then a month

He was born October 24th 1999

He's just really tall compared to the twins (it's kinda funny, Tim and Tom are 4 years older than Caleb, but they are just an inch taller than him)

He's really religious and prays a lot for his siblings' health and safety

He's been trying to take care of Tom after John's disappearence, since Mary doesn't do it, much the opposite, she hides Tom's medicines on purpose

Mary Weaver:

I didn't give her neither an age nor a birthday...i probably need to do that

She had an affair with James, when the twins were 4 and Benny was 6, Caleb was born from this affair

She doesn't hit any of her kids, but she does neglect most of them

On the nights between Saturday and Sunday, she doesn't sleep, she spends this time praying with a candle, then, before they go to church, she writes everything that happened that night on her diary

She has a lot of diaries, she keeps them in the attic

She's a little bitch(i don't know what else to say about her)

Pastor James McAlroy:

James also doesn't have an age nor birthday (i only have the Weaver kids and Sam's birthdays)

He won't appear much, but he does have a big role on the story

He's Caleb's biological dad(i mentioned that like 3 times already)

He tried doing a "honest-to-god exorcism" on the twins, it was just a cover for an attempt of murder

He's a toxic little shit(there's not much I can say about him)

Samuel Burton:

Sam is 12 years old and will be 13 in less than a month

He was born in October 2nd 2001

Him and Travis are Brothers on their mom's part

He's cousin with the Weavers, minus Caleb, they just don't know each other

He can be just as smug as Travis sometimes

He absolutely hates going on ghost hunting, he thinks it's dumb

He has long hair and freckles all over his body

He's just too lazy to tie his own shoes

He's the only one that remembers to bring a backpack when ghost hunting

While Travis is the camera man, he's the flashlight guy

Travis Burton:

Travis is 15 years old and i don't have a birthday for him, well, he would be born in 1999 just like Benny

He doesn't like wearing glasses, but doesn't have other choice, he either doesn't take proper care of his lenses and gets his eyes irritated or he just lost them

He's the face of his and Duncan's channel

He tries to drag Sam to be part of the channel, but he doesn't really want to be part of it

He cusses way too much

He's brave, only because he goes face first into danger without thinking

Duncan:

Duncan is 15 and would also be born in 1999

Big ass coward, sends Travis and Sam to go investigate on his place every fucking time

Entitled as fuck

The "brain" behind his and Travis' channel

He's suspiciously good on researching, he'll find the most unexpected things about you

He's a little shit as well

...i think that's it! Now i can go continue the first chapter and maybe finish it soon

[tickle-bugs]

Extraordinary

Summary: Makoto’s a bit haunted by the lack of normalcy in Hope’s Peak--at least, whatever shreds of normalcy could survive in a place like that. Hina, Sakura, and Kyoko bring him some measure of peace. 

@naegiristan Here’s your TOC fic! I apologize for it being so late, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :) Thanks to the lovely @peachytickles for hosting this with me. I had a blast. @ticklesofcolor 

There’s a lengthy conversation about food/healthy eating in the beginning, so TW/CW for food. 

Living at Hope’s Peak had forced Makoto to severely recategorize the way he viewed himself. Being ordinary was just...who he was. There was no word for it before. Makoto was himself, and that’s all that he ever needed to be. School life, if he could even call it that, had wrenched that comfort away from him. 

How was he supposed to be ordinary amongst the world’s foremost geniuses? What was the point of being ‘just Makoto’ when everyone else was so much more? 

“Heads up!” The call snapped Makoto out of his thoughts. He turned and caught a facefull of frosting and sprinkles. He narrowed his eyes at Hina, not exactly annoyed but not exactly happy either. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Hina wheezed, not even bothering to hide her giggles.

“I’m fine.” Makoto wiped a bit of frosting from his nose and popped it in his mouth. Hm. Strawberry.

“You looked like you could use a donut. I take my friends’ donut deficiencies very seriously.” Hina took a seat by his left, sliding the dozen box to sit between them. Sakura sat on his other side, graceful as always, and took a glazed donut from the box. 

“Sakura!”

“Hmm?” She looked up, donut in mouth, and Makoto stifled a chuckle. 

“You’re...having a donut?” Hina stared in open-mouthed wonder. 

“I can have cheat meals sometimes.” Sakura averted her eyes, uncharacteristically bashful. 

“I thought you hated donuts! I feel betrayed!”

“It’s reverse psychology, Hina. It makes cravings easier.” 

“Next you’re gonna tell me you actually love cake.” Hina huffed, and when Sakura stayed quiet, she threw her hands up in exasperation.

“We’re soulmates! I’m supposed to know these things about you! My whole life is a lie!” Hina whined, dropping her head in her hands. Sakura leaned around Makoto to pat her back, chuckling at her dramatics. 

Kyoko drifted over with perfect timing, taking a graceful seat before Hina could declare a divorce. 

“Hey, Kyoko.” Makoto smiled. Her eyes lingered on his face for a while, longer than usual, and it occurred to him that he still had frosting on his face. He pulled napkins from the dispenser on the table and dipped them in his water glass, choosing speed over discretion as he scrubbed at his face. 

“Hina. Sakura. Makoto.” Her lips quirked up on his name. 

“Do you have plans, Kyoko?” Hina slid the box to Kyoko, but she didn’t take a donut.

“Why do you ask?”

“Sakura and I were gonna go up to the art room. Wanna come?” 

“I suppose.” Kyoko smiled.

……………..

“Guys, look!” Hina gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“Is that...Celeste?” Sakura wrinkled her nose, slipping past Hina to get a better look. Nearly every surface in the room was covered in images of Celeste, from paintings to sketches--even a sculpture or two sat at the back of the room.

“Hifumi must have drawn these,” Kyoko sighed, thumbing through a discarded sketchbook--unfortunately, also filled with drawings of Celeste. 

“What makes you say that?” Makoto looked over Kyoko’s shoulder. The drawings were good--no, great, actually, if one could get past the creepiness of it all. Did Celeste know about all of this?

“He’s obsessed with her.” Kyoko held up a more tame drawing of Celeste looking out a window. Something at the back of Makoto’s mind stirred upon seeing it, but the feeling fled as quickly as it came. 

“I think he’s a little more than obsessed.” Sakura gestured at an easel with an Elizabethan-style portrait of Celeste on a throne, revelling in excessive jewels and finery. Celeste had to know, then. This was the kind of thing she’d force Hifumi to make, anyhow. 

“I want a creepy portrait now! Let’s make them for each other!” Hina giggled, appraising the portrait of Celeste with open amusement. 

“I’m not an artist, Hina.” 

“Who cares? It’ll be fun! You and I can do each other. I won’t judge you. Makoto and Kyoko, why don’t you guys swap as well?” Hina shoved brushes and palettes into everyone’s hands, leaving no room for argument. Though Makoto really wanted to argue. There was no way Kyoko would--

“Alright.”

“Y-Yeah. Sounds good.” He coughed, dumping his supplies at the nearest station. Sakura came around with canvases for them, delicately setting them on the easels. 

Painting was rather relaxing, once Makoto got into it. Some of his anxieties melted away as he meticulously blended the paint, trying to capture the lavender undertones of Kyoko’s hair. He cut the line of her easel across the canvas with a thick brush, and in one fell swoop, outlined the curve of her head peeking out behind it. The creepy piece of the activity was lost on Makoto from the moment he started--he had to do Kyoko justice. 

He leaned in close for the most important part: Kyoko’s eyes. They both weren’t visible, but her right eye peeked out just enough for him to capture the gentle violet. He dabbed tiny reflections into the iris, giving her eyes the shining life that he’d always admired. He wondered if his eyes looked like that. Probably not, anymore. 

The sensation of something light and fluffy sweeping across his nape rudely interrupted his musings and nearly sent him onto the floor. The feeling zipped along the side of his neck and hopped up to his ears--he tilted out of his chair at that point, and Sakura’s sharp reflexes were the only thing saving him from an untimely demise. She righted his chair with him still in it and smiled.

“Hina!” Makoto slapped a hand to the back of his neck, cheeks blazing red. Hina’s grin told him all he needed to know, but the paintbrush dangling between her fingers told him more. 

“Sorry! Had to snap you out of it. We’re going to go get dinner, if you want to join us.” Hina squeezed his shoulder and it only tickled worse. He tried to discreetly pry her hand off of his shoulder but there was no room left for playing natural. 

“You guys go ahead. I’m not hungry.” He cursed himself for the way his voice cracked. He saw Kyoko glance at him from the corner of his eye and he cleared his throat. Real smooth, Makoto. 

“I’ll pass as well.”

“Oh, okay. Bye!” Hina looped her arm through Sakura’s and dragged her out of the art room, leaving Makoto and Kyoko silent and alone. 

“I finished your painting.” Kyoko turned her easel to face him. What’d she painted certainly looked like him, if he squinted. The colors were all there, and she’d perfectly captured the one tuft of hair on his head that would never lie down. His face was a little lopsided, looking more like an emoticon than anything else. He adored it more than words could describe.

He needed words, though, because Kyoko was staring expectantly. 

“I….it’s…” Would cute sound patronizing? Maybe endearing was alright. No, that would be worse. 

“You can say it’s horrible.”

“It’s perfect, Kyoko.” He ran his thumb over her signature in the bottom corner. 

“Can I see yours?”

“Oh, uh. Sure.” He turned his easel towards her, eyes fixed on a point in the middle distance so he wouldn’t have to look at her.

“Makoto.” He looked up, expression neutral. 

“This is wonderful,” She whispered. Tears glistened in her eyes, threatening to fall, and Makoto frantically passed her tissues from his pocket. 

“Kyoko, hey--”

“I’m just grateful, that’s all. Thank you.” She dabbed at her eyes. 

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing to me. Thank you.” She took the painting from the easel and held it protectively. 

“You’re welcome.” He smiled.

………………………………..

“I want what they have. Sakura and Hina, I mean.” Makoto unlocked his door and held it open for her. 

“A lesbian relationship?”

“Wh--no, of course not. Wait. They’re together?” Makoto’s jaw dropped. 

“Makoto, your lack of perception worries me sometimes,” Kyoko huffed, slipping past him with the paintings. She rested them against the wall near the door as Makoto worked his jaw, trying to remember how to speak. It made sense,  but how could he not notice?

“Listen, my point is that I want normalcy. I want to laugh with someone who means something to me. As messed up as it is that we’re trapped here--” He gestured to his room-- “I’d like to at least have friends like everyone else.” He flopped on his bed. She sat more gracefully beside him. 

“I’m not very funny.” Kyoko shrugged. He squinted confusedly at her for a moment. 

“That’s okay, Kyoko. You don’t have to be. I’m just complaining about something stupid.” He sighed deeply and fiddled with his jacket sleeves.

“I may have a different way of making you laugh, though.”

“Oh?” He looked up. 

“You might hate it. Just...tell me to stop if you do.” She made eye contact with him, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was...nervous? He’d never seen her like this. It was equally endearing and unsettling.

The skittering of nails around his collarbones stopped his train of thought dead in its tracks. 

“K-Kyoko! Wait!” He squealed, giggles bursting from him before he could even think to hold them back. She withdrew her hands as if she’d been burned, watching him intently. 

“You didn’t have to...I mean...I-It’s okay if you…” Makoto waved his hands around, well-aware that the stammering was losing him any cool points he may have had with her. 

“You like this.” A statement, not a question. 

“I think so? Y-Yeah, I do. It’s fun, and you’re fun, and--”

“Makoto.” Kyoko silenced him with the tenderness of his name. “It’s alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” She smiled--smiled!--at him, and his heart flipped in his chest. They gazed at each other for a moment, warm and inviting, and it would’ve been great if Kyoko didn’t ruin it by tickling his ribs. Makoto squawked and fell backwards on the bed, giggling at machine-gun speed. He grabbed at her arms to have something to hold and she chuckled at him, sliding her hands down to his sides. She moved languidly, calculating every move before Makoto could react to her last one. 

“Just so you know, Makoto, you mean something to me, too. So in a way, we’re both getting normalcy.” She hummed and scribbled curiously at his stomach, laughing softly at his attempts to curl up. He wondered if she knew how awful her nails were, even through his shirt. His survival instincts advised against telling her, though--she’d likely never leave him alone. 

If Makoto could see through his mirth-squinted eyes, he might’ve seen Kyoko staring down at him fondly, smiling wider than she had since they’d arrived at Hope’s Peak. Instead, he cycled between swatting at her hands and hiding his face, absolutely overwhelmed on all fronts. 

“Yeah,” she whispered softly, applying enough pressure to make Makoto shriek, “Ordinary is just what I needed.”

If he wasn’t giggling so hard, he’d’ve told her that she was what he needed, too.