#it's cool looking back on it to see how I drew her differently/my style shifted over time!

[kalloway]

a (very tiny, hence the crispy thumbnail lmao please click on it to fix that) WIP crop of one of two things im currently working on hahaha

as it turns out, having one project on my iPad (in Procreate) and another on my PC (in Clip Studio) is the only reasonable way I can actually work on more than one drawing at the same time lmao

[messers-moony]

So Perfect 2 | J.P

Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through. 

Preparing for a date seemed easy enough, except when it’s with a twenty-five-year-old man that already has a child. Granted, the twenty-five-year-old man was handsome, very handsome; maybe that’s what made this so hard. Every dress that she tried on didn’t seem to fit or didn’t seem to look right. 

Y/n was looking at her appearance in the mirror when a light knock was heard on her door, “Come in!”

Remus almost dropped the tea he was holding for her, “You look spiffing.”

“Spiffing?” Y/n crossed her arms with a stupid smile, “That’s all you could come up with?”

“Dashing, beautiful, gorgeous?” Remus shrugged, “I'm not good at this whole thing. ‘S why I’m into blokes, remember?”

Y/n hummed, reaching for the tea he was holding for her, “Thanks, Remmy.”

“No problem.” He replied, taking a seat on her twin bed, “So, are you excited?”

“Nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s already got a child, Rem!” Y/n said exasperated, “If this goes well, then he’ll expect me to be Harry’s stepmother, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

Remus placed two hands on his shorter sister's shoulders, “You’re going to be fine. No one is more prepared for that than you are.”

“I’m regretting this.”

“If you don’t go on this date, then I’ll never call Sirius.” 

“That’s not fair!”

“It is.” Remus replied, “How about this-”

“Oh no, you only do this when you know you’ll win.” She murmured. 

Remus smirked, “If you go on this date and have fun, I’ll ask Sirius out. If you don’t go on this date at all, I’ll block his number.”

“But you and Sirius are perfect for each other.” Y/n whined, “And so are you and James.” Remus countered. 

Y/n pouted, and Remus smiled, “Now go have fun on this date. James is waiting outside.”

“Are you shitting me?!” 

Remus laughed, “Nope!”

Y/n scrambled to grab her things, and Remus watched amusedly, “You’re the worst, Rem!” She yelled as she began to leave the bookstore. 

“Love you too, sis!”

The door closed behind her, and she was releasing breaths of air. James turned to see her out of breath and a flush on her cheeks. It made him smile. She looked absolutely breathtaking too. Y/n’s hair was styled, and her dress looked dashing on her. James offered her his hand, and Y/n took it with a gentle smile. 

“Sorry for making you wait.” Y/n apologized, “Rem was no help.”

James chuckled, “It’s fine.”

James opened the car door for her, and she got in. Instantly she felt out of place. Y/n hadn’t been in a car since high school and ever since then had taken public transportation or walked. She and Remus didn’t have money for a vehicle, so they made do with what they had. The seats were black leather, and the car didn’t have a spec of dirt on it. 

He got into the driver's side of the car smoothly and took notice of Y/n’s awestruck expression, “I take it you like my car?”

“I’m sorry.” Her expression turned sheepish, “It’s been a minute since I’ve been in a car.”

James quirked an eyebrow, “Remus and I walk or ride buses to get by.”

“Well, I’m glad I could be with you for your first experience back.” They both laughed. 

It was so easy with James. Conversation flowed like water, and the air was light like clouds. His hand went from the shift to intertwine his fingers with hers. Y/n’s face flushed, and James smiled genuinely. James couldn’t remember a time when a girl made his heart race and butterflies fill his stomach like this before. 

When they arrived, Y/n was starstruck. It was fancier than she thought. Her heart pounded, and insecurity filled her body. James made his way to her side of the car and opening the door for her again. He helped her out of the car and felt her hand tremble just the slightest bit. 

“You look beautiful.” James assured, “No need to be worried.”

Y/n swallowed thickly, “Hey,” James turned her face to his, “If I thought you were underdressed, I would’ve told you. You’re gorgeous, and I think you’ll be the prettiest girl in the room.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her another one of those beautiful smiles before walking up to the hostess, “Name?”

“Should be under Potter.”

The hostess smiled, “Right this way.”

James motioned for Y/n to go first, so she followed the hostess to the table. Y/n sat down, and James sat across from her as the woman set down two menus. Maybe it was a force of habit, but she couldn’t help but let her eyes travel to everything around her. 

He smiled, slightly amused by her way of checking everything around her. It wasn’t the fanciest place that he could’ve taken her - there was much better - but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. It wasn’t pitying that drew him toward her, though. There was something about her that made him feel like a teenager again. 

The place was made of what appeared to be a dark wooden material. The lights were a dim yellow, and the tables were polished beautifully. The booths were comfy and with red cushioning. The atmosphere was cooling and dry. 

Y/n had opened her menu and began to survey it, “Pick whatever you want.” 

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, “I really don’t mind-“

“This is a date.” James reminded as he held her hands from across the table, “Let me treat you so well that you a second date.”

Y/n blushed, “You’ve already done that.” 

“I have?”

“Shut up.”

James chuckled, kissing her knuckles, “Whatever you want, love.”

Half of the food on the menu Y/n hadn’t even heard of. Granted, she and Remus never really ate out much as kids. Usually, their mother - Hope - would cook them dinner as their father - Lyall - got home from work. Dinner was generally around seven-thirty or eight o’clock. 

The dinner went by gracefully, with lots of banter and getting to know each other. It wasn’t until the end of the date where James had paid despite Y/n’s efforts, and they got into the car where he had asked the dreadful question. They both sat in the parking spot when James had turned to her. 

“How do you feel about children?” James asked and quickly added, “I know that you’re good with them because of the reading on Saturdays but, I mean, about having children?”

Y/n wrung her hands, “I never really thought about it.”

“Why?”

“I have two jobs and a sick brother to take care of.”

Y/n replied, “Kids don’t really fit in. I’d also have to have a significant other to have children. Which I don’t have.”

James nodded, “Okay, but if you were to have a significant other.”

“I mean, I’d like to.” Y/n shrugged, “My life is just hectic right now. Bringing a child into this life wouldn’t be fair.”

Okay, so this isn’t going anywhere, James thought; I need to be blunt, “How would you feel about being Harry’s stepmother?”

She swallowed, “James….”

“I know that’s a hard thing to answer right now. Especially with us just getting started.” James added, “But if you aren’t interested, then this isn’t worth starting.”

“No, I know and understand.” Y/n said, fidgeting with her hands in her lap, “I’m sure it’s hard to find someone, you know, already having a kid and all.”

James nodded. 

“I’d love to be Harry’s stepmother.” Y/n replied as James’ face lit up, “But I still have the bookstore, the bar, and Remus to take care of as well. It’ll be stressful.” 

“I’m not asking you to be a stay-at-home mother.” James chuckled, “I’m just asking that at the end of the day, you come home to us.”

“And hopefully,” James smiled sheepishly, “Sirius can knock Remus off your list.”

Y/n chuckled, “Hopefully. Remus is a handful.”

“He seems nice.” 

She snorted, “Until you officially meet him.”

“Well then,” James smiled, taking her hand in his as he began moving the car, “Looks like we’ll be having double dates.”

Y/n squeezed his hand as he began to drive. The car drove effortlessly over the unpaved roads. Light music played in the background. The sky was a beautiful blue littered with sparkling white specks. The moon was crescent and barely a sliver. James had gotten to a stoplight when he spoke up again. 

“My house or yours?”

“Whichever.” 

James smiled and turned the wheel to the left, “Okay.”

It didn’t take long to realize that they were going to his house. His neighborhood was much different than hers. Granted, she lived on top of a bookshop, but it was still different. James lived in the suburbs. The houses were breathtaking, and the streets looked clean. Asphalt roads were freshly paved, and sidewalks looked new. The homes were family-sized, but they looked ginormous compared to her and Remus’ studio apartment only suited for one. 

James pulled into the driveway, and Y/n was flabbergasted. It was a two-story house, mostly white concrete, and the accents were a dark brown color. The grass was freshly cut, and the vegetation was trimmed. The backyard appeared to have a pool and a patio area, but Y/n could barely tell over the solid fence. 

His keys jingled as he placed the key into the slot and the door opened with ease. Gently, he motioned her to go first. The floors were dark oak wood, seemingly similar to the dark paint on the accents of the house. Everything was so clean, exactly like the car, not a spec of dust laid on the surfaces. 

A movie was playing on the television in the room on the right. The kitchen was on the left, and the sitting table was in the room beside it. James shut the door behind him, locking it. He took off his coat and shoes, placing them at the front door. He smiled. 

“I take it you like the house?”

“It’s beautiful.”

James smiled, walking to the kitchen, and Y/n took off her shoes before following him. He sighed when he opened the fridge, and Y/n had taken a seat at the barstool in front of the island. James picked up an empty bottle of wine that was still residing in the fridge. 

“You keep empty bottles of wine in the fridge?” Y/n questioned as James rubbed his face with his hands. 

“No. Bad habit of Sirius’.”

Y/n quirked an eyebrow, “He lives here?”

“He acts as he does.” James muttered as he recycled the empty bottle, “But no, Sirius lives a couple of doors down. But I feel like he should be paying rent here.”

Y/n laughed, “Regardless, I’ve known him since elementary school, so he’s like my brother. Harry calls him uncle and everything.”

“That’s adorable.” Y/n said, “Do you have any actual siblings?”

“Nope. Jus’ me.” He answered, motioning to himself, “Sirius has a younger brother named Regulus.”

“His parents obsessed with constellations or something?”

“Supposedly.”

“Where is Harry now?” 

“With Sirius.” James replied, taking out a full bottle of wine, “Told him I might get him tonight or might not.”

Y/n took the glass of wine he offered her with a smile, “Mind if I ask why the tv was left on?”

“My cat.”

“Cat?”

“Technically, not mine.” James explained, “It’s my ex-fiancées, but she left him here, so he’s mine now.”

“And your cat likes the tv?”

James nodded, “What's his name?”

“Moony.”

“Moony?”

“Yeah. Harry named him actually.”

Y/n smiled. They continued to talk, and the night kept going on by. It was well past midnight when James drove her back home to her shared apartment. The car ride was silent, primarily with music playing lightly in the background once again. He walked her to the door of the bookstore before bidding her goodnight. 

Gently James pressed his lips to her forehead, “Goodnight, get some sleep.”

“You too…” Y/n muttered, blushing as she walked into the bookstore. 

She hadn’t even made it up the steps when Remus began talking, “Had a good night, I presume?”

“You’re a dick, ya know?”

He smirked and closed his book with a thud, “Runs in the family.”

Y/n gasped playfully, “You ass!”

Remus chuckled as they both walked up the steps, “Seriously though, good night?”

“Yeah, really good night.”

[sondepoch]

HC: They see MC’s sketchbook!

Art. It’s a private thing. Showing someone your work is akin to showing them a piece of your soul, an insight into who you are and everything that lies within. So when the Obey Me! boys get a glimpse of your sketchbook, they find themselves wanting for more—and all in different ways.

Word Count: 6.0k

*Mild NSFW themes for Asmo & Diavolo

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

At the beginning of the year, there is 0 trust between the two of you

Not only has he actively tried to kill you, but he’s already so suspicious of the pacts you’re making with his brothers that he can’t help but be wary every time you cross paths

So when he realizes that you’re always absentmindedly scribbling in a notepad every time you interact, he’s more than a little perturbed by it

100% thinks you’re secretly taking notes on his and his brothers’ behavior to use it against them

So, obviously, when he next sees you using it in his presence, he wastes no time in snatching the notebook from your hands

“Oh hey, Lucif—what are you doing?!”

“Nothing you should be concerned with, human.”

“That’s my sketchbook you’re holding!”

“Sketchbook?”

Instantly flips it open and sure enough, inside there’s nothing but doodles and sketches

luci.is.confuzzled.exe

He’s still convinced that there must be something incriminating in the book, so he continues flipping through it. But the more he sees, the more he realizes how wrong he is

It’s only when he flips to the section with his family that he begins to feel guilty

In the beginning, you just draw basic poses. Mammon, glancing at you over his shoulder. Asmo, posing for a camera. Beel, about to bite down on a hamburger. 

But the further he goes, the more elaborate the sketches get, and as he flips through the pages, he can feel the amount of work that has gone into each piece

And then he gets to the page where you drew him

Keep it lowkey, but he thinks his heart stopped for a second

He stares at the picture and wonders if that’s what you see every time he shifts into his demon form, because for the first time since his fall, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks. Everything looks so right in your art style, from the diamond on his forehead to the way his wings flutter out of his back.

It’s perfection

“I’m confiscating this,” He says quickly, not looking you in the eye.

He then escapes the room faster than you’ve ever seen, and never speaks of the incident again to you

But roughly a week later, you find a small red book on your pillow, and you know that it's a sketchbook from him, to replace the one he took

And even later—after the two of you grow close—you find your old sketchbook stored in his most secure drawer, locked away with a key he keeps hidden. And you know that he’s spent hours looking through the book on rough nights, through the doodles of him and his brothers and everything else you’ve ever drawn

And though he’s too proud to admit it, you know he loves your art 

Mammon

He found it when he was going through your stuff, absentmindedly checking to see if you had any valuables on you

And the moment he flipped open to see your little notebook of doodles, his mind went B I N G O 

He loves your art the second he sees it, spending a whole hour��just sitting on your bedroom floor, flipping through the pages

Adores everything about your art style

And when he starts to see the little doodles you do of his brothers, he’s even more enraptured

You draw all the things he’s imagined but never seen: a sketch of Lucifer dressed in a onesie, snuggling a giant teddy bear. Beel, using a sleeping Belphie as a food tray for a pile of snacks as large as the sixth-born himself. Asmo with cat ears, being chased by Solomon, who appears to be a wolf.

And yet, there are no pictures of Mammon

Man is hurt by the fact that you’ve drawn all his brothers but not him. He’s your first man, after all. You should have been the first person he drew!

Gets a bit upset about it and throws your sketchbook back into the drawer he found it in, stomping back to his room with childlike indignation

Is just a bit petty about it afterward

“Hey, Mammon, can you walk me to school? Class starts in half an hour.”

“Huh? Oh, so now ya want me to do it, huh? Well, why don’t you ask Asmo instead?”

“Okay? I will???”

Soon everyone in the house has realized that Mammon’s being a bit off, and while it was nice at first to have peace and quiet from the resident troublemaker, you guys grow concerned pretty quick

And eventually, you go to his room to talk things out

Let’s just say that when you found out he’d been going through your stuff, you were not pleased. But seeing that he wasn’t going to be the mature one, you sucked it up and whacked the demon on the back of his head, telling him to “wait a second” while you went to “get something”

Cue the retrieval of your second sketchbook 

And when Mammon sees it, he’s not sure what he feels more of: guilt or happiness

Every single page in this second notebook is of him. Only a few are colored, but Mammon finds himself enraptured by even the casual doodles in the corners, where he’s doing little things like eating a banana or flashing the viewer a few Grimm

Man is touched. He’s never had anyone do this for him, and certainly not out of their own volition. So suffice it to say that when he tackled you for a hug that night, he didn’t let you go for a long time

And maybe some other stuff happened too. Who knows? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Leviathan

TSL

The second Levi sees you sketching in your artbook (after an incoherent stumble of words which you assume are synonymous with praise), the only phrase coming out of this man’s mouth is TSL

Begins begging you to draw fanart of the Shadow Lord, asking you to sketch him in different outfits, draw him in different poses, put him in various backgrounds, etc.

Basically wants you to bring his imagination to life

“Oh! Oh! Can you draw him baking a cake now? Wouldn’t that be so cool?!”

Absolutely does the wwooooooOOOOOAAAHAHHHHHHH sound effect every single time you show him your work, even if you’ve only made minor changes from the last time you showed him

He takes you on a spending spree, pulling up Akuzon and offering to pay for whatever supplies you want if you’ll just make him a super fancy poster

And so you start

It actually gets to be a pretty good way to grow closer: every day, after school, you head up to Levi’s room to work on the poster he asked you to make him. In exchange, he lets you borrow his manga and you guys watch anime together

Eventually, boi gets the idea of throwing Ruri-chan into the poster, and the second he thinks it he won’t shut up about it

“Oh, come on! You can do it—look, just put her in this little corner right here!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Levi?! Ruri-chan and the Shadow Lord are two completely different characters who are meant to be drawn in completely different art styles! If I mush Ruri-chan into the corner, it’ll ruin the poster’s dynamic!”

“But pleeeeeaaaassseeeee?”

Cue extra pouty Levi

Eventually, you agree to make a separate drawing of Ruri-chan for Levi to hang up next to the poster, because you think that otherwise, he’ll go crazy

When the date rolls around where you’re almost done with everything, Levi formally sends out an invitation to everyone of importance

Man invites everyone from Luke to Diavolo over for the “revealing ceremony” where he plans to hang the poster on his wall

Actually tried to get the demon king to come as well, but Lucifer stopped him before he could get an invitation out

When everyone sees what you’ve been working on for so many weeks, they’re all MEGA impressed because hello??? they did not know you were this skilled???

It quickly turns into a competition, with each one of them trying to outdo each other with how vigorously they can compliment you

And soon enough you find yourself swamped with requests from every other demon in the room, begging you to make them something as elaborate as you did Levi

Satan

It’s a system you guys have set up, where every Tuesday and Thursday night, you’ll sit in the common room on the couch facing each other and will simply open your books to do what you will

You always draw, and Satan always reads

And neither will bother the other until the grandfather clock chimes twelve times, whereupon you both bid each other goodnight and wait for the next session where you do it all over

Except for today, that is

“What are you drawing?” 

Ah, there it is

The one question you were hoping Satan would never ask

You subtly (incredibly awkwardly) change the subject, commenting on the color of Satan’s jacket to distract him from his inquiry, and he picks up on the hint, quietly huffing as he turns back to his book 

But the mild irritation he feels doesn’t let him fully delve back into the realm of the nonfiction novel he was reading, so he’s more than a little distracted as he goes back to reading about human anthropology

And it’s in this state of distraction that he notices the little glances you’re stealing every so often, before returning to your sketchpad

Yeah, it doesn’t take long for Satan to put two and two together

“Are you drawing me?”

An incredulous question, asked in such an offending tone

He sounds so irate by the fact that you can’t help but helplessly deny it, muttering something about drawing plants and flowers instead

But Satan doesn’t believe it, and in an instant he’s standing behind you, staring at the sketch in your hands which has oh-so-beautifully captured the essence of him on the couch, engrossed in a book with the light from the flames in the fireplace flickering gently against his skin

The anger at being drawn without having agreed to it quickly melts into a quiet awe for your skill

“Can I see your other drawings?” He asks gently, no longer irritated but actually impressed

“I-I’m not sure if you’ll want to—”

“Nonsense. Show me.”

And so you do

You hand him the sketchbook, avoiding his eyes as he flips to the very first page—and imagine his surprise when he sees that even that is a sketch of his face, though the artwork is significantly less advanced than the piece he just saw. Satan flips to the next page, and then the next, and the next, and sure enough: they’re all of him

“I-I just needed a model to practice my artwork on,” You mumble, gaze fixated on the couch. “And you were right there, so I couldn’t resist...and then I needed a model again. And again. And you were always there, and I know I never asked, but I’m sorry, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t—“

“Nonsense,” Satan murmurs, pressing a finger to your lips. His smile has never looked as sincere as it looks now, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the sketchbook in his hands

“I’ll be your model, if you so desire it. Just tell me how you want me to sit.”

Asmodeus

Your model for everything

You’re trying to draw the Hulk and you a good frame of reference? And you need a really muscular model? And Beel ABSOLUTELY fits the bill? 

Yeah no, Asmo’s your model

You want to draw a child? Someone small and short, roughly the exact same height as Luke (who is an ANGEL and would absolutely help you)? Yeah no, Asmo’s still going to be your model.

Want a cute guy? Asmo. Cute girl? Asmo. Cute animal? Still Asmo.

Man refuses to leave you alone - the second he learns that you’re an artist he insists on gracing your work with the holy sight of his body

Highkey wants to model nude

And you’d be lying if you said that he was a bad model—man can hold a pose for hours without moving even a little, his only fault is that he talks incessantly—but you can easily quiet him by saying that you’re drawing his lips - and the moment you do so, he’s suddenly he’s stiller than a statue,  doing his absolute best to remain frozen so that you can capture his perfection

Boi posts 100% of your content on his Devilgram, and while you were hesitant about it at first, now you’re just used to it

Thanks to him, you’re a lowkey celebrity

Like demons love your art style 

It’s apparently very refreshing and human-like as compared to the dark and dreary art found in the Devildom, so people go wild over Asmo’s Devilgram page for it

Man thinks that they’d go even more wild if you drew something where he modeled nude

In fact, it’s lowkey a business deal that the two of you have - you allow Asmo to post your work on his Devilgram (giving credit to you, of course), and in exchange he pays for all your art supplies, acts as your model (though that’s really more of him wanting to than it being your choice), and even goes as far as to keep Mammon apart from you while you work, insisting that you need “privacy” and “quiet” while you draw

100% acts like he isn’t even more chatty than Mammon when given the chance

On the bright side, it’s thanks to these weekly art sessions where you draw and Asmo models and talks that you’re always up to date on the latest gossip. You’re 100% caught up with the fact that Zahhak just found out he has another illegitimate son and that Baphomet just liked Rusalka’s post from fourteen centuries ago

So yeah, the two of you have a mutually beneficial relationship

Asmodeus still insists that one thing would make it better though: him modeling nude

But Asmo is a sweetheart about everything, and he goes out of his way to pamper you 

Specifically, your hands—after all, those are what work your artistic magic!

Expect him to always be peppering your dominant hand with kisses, massaging it whenever you look tired, giving you weekly manicures completely free of charge, all out of the goodness of Asmo’s heart

*ahem* and weekly requests to model nude

Beelzebub

a m a z e m e n t 

Boi is entranced

Like, he’s so mesmerized by your art that he’s not even paying attention to the food sitting right in front of him, simply opting to stare more intently at the drawing you’re holding up so eagerly

It’s quite beautiful, really: The seven demon brothers surrounding you, a reworking of a photograph Lucifer took a few months ago but in your art style. And for that last fact, Beel thinks he likes this version better

“Wow,” He finally manages to say, still too impressed to really think of anything else

He lets his brothers shower you in praise and compliments, silently nodding along and agreeing with every plaudit they thrust your way

But the moment you’re alone, expect to be scooped into his arms and carried to his room

Boi instantly wants to know the process

When do you draw? How long does it take? Where do you do it? How are you getting your supplies? Who pays?

It’s not so much the physical process he’s interested in, but rather the nuances of art that make your work look so you. He’s not interested in learning for the sake of doing, but simply for the sake of understanding because he already appreciates your art so much

Absolutely invites you to his room to have you show him the art process the next time you start working on a piece

And after the first time, then, he invites you back a second - then a third - and then the two of you have settled into a routine where after school, you come to his room and pencil away in your sketchpad, with Beel watching in the background, munching on snacks

It’s quite relaxing for him, actually

He likes watching as you bring a piece together, going over previously flat areas with a second layer of shading to make certain elements pop—and even if he doesn’t completely understand what you’re doing, he’s entirely willing to learn, listening peacefully as you explain what the various tools do

By the end of the month, man has actually memorized all the names of your supplies, handing them to you every time you ask for it - be it something as simple as a request for an eraser or just the blending stump

Lowkey, your work has actually improved since you began working up in Beel’s room

Not only does he have the most comfortable setup, but the man pampers you like royalty, always making sure that there’s water or food for you in case you need something

(And if you do happen to require something that isn’t already in Beel’s room, man will 100% get it for you so that you don’t have to stop what you’re doing)

Honestly, it’s the perfect arrangement: he gives you the ideal working space and you give him hours upon hours of intrigue

And if you happen to begin sitting in his lap one day while you work, something which quickly turns into a pattern, who’s there to stop anything? ;)

Belphegor

Man naps

A lot

And you just happen to be his favorite pillow, so it’s hardly a surprise when all your free time is spent in the presence of a dozing Belphie, always passed out over your legs

So once, just once, you pull your sketchpad out from under your pillow and work on it, a cautious eye trained on the seventh-born’s every move in case he stirs

And when that first time goes smoothly, you pull your sketchpad out a second time

Then a third

Then a fourth - and suddenly, you’re caught in a pattern

It was really just a matter of time until Belphie woke up one day and you didn’t notice

And it’s already too late when the drowsy demon lifts his head, peering curiously onto your lap to see what you’re working on—much to your horror

“Y-you’re awake,” You mutter halfheartedly, a sick feeling settling in your stomach as you watch the demon’s expression shift as he studies your artwork

You hate it

A bubble of anxiety begins to rise, fear over whether he will like your work or call it bad, whether he’ll make fun of your work or tell the brothers, whether he’ll be kind about it or mean

But then, much to your surprise, he flops back onto your lap, utterly unphased

“Nice,” The demon comments casually, stretching as he rests his head along your thigh. “It’s pretty.”

You can only blink as he falls back asleep, utterly confused as to what just happened

He woke up, right? And he saw your art? And he complimented it, telling you that he thought it was nice and pretty?

A sound of disbelief escapes your mouth as you try to process the utter nonchalance with which the whole exchange had concluded with, your shock only interrupted by the light sound of Belphie, who’s already snoring

You groan

But now that Belphie has seen your work, it’s not like there’s much point in hiding it any longer, right?

You pull your sketchbook out, silently continuing to work on the design that the man napping on your lap had said to be “nice,” adding some finishing touches to it 

And when Belphie wakes up, he speaks nothing of the entire exchange

From that point and onward, you become a little more comfortable around him, relieved that you don’t need to talk about it with him

And he gets it

For all your free time, while he naps, you draw, and the two of you find a comfortable form of peace together, an odd tranquility lurking in the fact that there are no questions, no answers, just you and him, the sound of scribbling and snoring, your sketchpad and his pillow

And really, who needs anything else?

Solomon

He’s probably the first one to realize, on his own, that you’re an artist

The two of you have nearly all your classes together, thanks to Lord Diavolo, so it’s hardly surprising when the ever-astute sorcerer picks up on the fact that every time he casts you a second glance, you’re working on some mysterious sketch underneath your desk

Doesn’t really care at first

Until he sees your work

Man actually stops when he picks your sketchbook up off the ground, inspecting the page it had flipped open to after you dropped it

“Holy shit”

Doesn’t even ask for permission, he just begins browsing through the sketchbook, growing more and more impressed with each new page he sees

You only snatch the book back from his hands when you realize that the sketch he’s staring at so intently is one you drew of him, thanking him for picking it up with a huff and awkwardly trying to remove yourself from the situation as fast as humanly (heh, yes that is a pun) possible

Wizard boy stops you, ofc

“Come with me”

“But I have class soon—"

Again, doesn’t even wait for your agreement, man just drags you by the forearm to the library and flips open a book, throws down his own notebook, and demands that you use your “art skills or whatever” to help him

Sigh

Precious wizard boy isn’t very good with words when he’s all worked up

It takes you a good 5 minutes to understand that he wants you to compare the summoning circle outlined on the book with the one he sketched to identify where he went wrong, because apparently you have an “artist’s eye” and therefore you should be able to assist him - and he refuses to believe you when you try to convince him that no, this is not your strong suit and you will likely be unable to help him

He gets whinier than Asmo (probably where he gets it from) and will not stop nagging you even as you try to leave, so eventually you just give in and agree to try to help him - and it wounds up being surprisingly easy for you to realize that he missed the secondary outline of the inner circle, among another few minor mistakes

Huh, maybe you are naturally inclined toward this

From that moment and onward, Solomon decides that you are officially valuable (not only do you have magical potential, but you have an eye for summoning circles too? how UNFAIR) and begins spending all his time with you

Doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re an artist at first—is really more interested in how your skills can be applied

But then one day, after a particularly rough night of going through twelve whole summoning circles for twelve powerful demons, he takes a nap and wakes up to find you passed out on the floor, sleeping on top of your sketchbook where you fell asleep doodling him

Highkey touched

And slowly, he begins casually “falling asleep” around you more often, to see and flip through more of your artwork when he wakes up 

Sigh

Bby is fucking shady even when he does wholesome shit

Simeon

Okay let’s be real

There’s no peace with the seven demon brothers. Solomon is chaotic. Luke, as much as we love him, is just a lot to be around. And even with Barbatos next to him, Diavolo is a walking tornado that tends to wreak havoc whenever he wills it (and he usually wills it).

So honestly, being with Simeon is the only place of tranquility you can find in the entire Devildom

Specifically, his room

*Which is off-limits to all the aforementioned individuals

He extended the invitation for you to spend some “relaxation time” in his quarters whenever you pleased at the beginning of the year, his angelic heart already sensing the absolute whirlwind of disaster you were walking into when you joined RAD

And while you declined his offer immediately out of politeness, you found yourself sheepishly knocking on his door not one week into the program

And now it’s become an every-day sort of thing

So yeah

Simeon knows about your art

In fact, you can’t seem to draw unless you’re in his presence, because at this point, he naturally soothes you so much that your hand is only steady when you hear the sound of his calm breathing in the background

In fact, you work best when the two of you are spread out on his couch, your back resting comfortably on Simeon’s shoulder while he writes (yes, he manually writes all his books on pen and paper) and you put your legs up on the couch, sketching away in your notebook

It’s the very image of peace, something you can’t seem to find anywhere else in this realm

And Simeon, bless his heart, may be a master of calligraphy, but the precious angel cannot draw to save his life - a fact which you have taken it upon yourself to handle

See, the angel gets tired every now and then—understandable, given that he produces literal masterpieces at his hands

And so when he gets tired, what does he do? 

Make incomprehensible doodles in the upper left corners of his papers

So, of course, you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring those doodles to life (even if it requires a half-hour of inspection before you can make out what the sketch was supposed to be) and Simeon loves it

The expression of eagerness that surfaces every time you inform him that you’ve finished a piece is so rewarding, because the childlike glee with which he takes the paper from your hands to inspect it always sends a rush of warmth to your heart as he gushes in appreciation

But uh 

Simeon is a special kind of chaotic, something that manifests every time he doodles something on paper

You stare at the angel in disbelief as he informs you that his latest doodle (what appears to be a banana-looking creature in sunglasses?) was actually a monkey ironing clothes—unsure what to say in light of this information

But it’s okay :) There only needs to be one artist in this relationship, and it clearly isn’t him

Luke

It started with cake

He needed “inspiration” to make something for Barbatos, as a thank-you gift for the pastry lessons the elder gave him, but Luke claimed that everything he made, while it tasted fine, lacked in the aesthetic department

And while normally you would play it Simeon-style, leaving it to the younger angel to handle things on his own so that he can grow individually, you felt too bad watching him discard another batch of cupcakes into Beel’s mouth, rubbing his head in aggravation over how annoying it was that nothing was looking right

So you helped him out

It was nothing major, really

Just eight doodles—subtle yet elegant designs for a triple-tiered cake, childish and bouncy arrangements to store flan, little details in frosting to give cupcakes the added element of specialty that makes them infinitely better

But the second Luke saw your paper, he went wild

Boi was running to the kitchen so fast he barely even had the time to shout “thank you” 

Apparently, your little sketches sparked inspiration in him so strongly that the flames burned til midnight (much to Simeon’s disapproval), but when Luke was finally done with everything, he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts that looked so perfect it was hard to imagine that he brought them to life from your sketches

Luke spent ages thanking you, shoving desserts down your throat even when you insisted that you were full, so unimaginably grateful that you helped him out of what he called “chef’s block”

Each “thank you” was accompanied either a brownie or a slice of mango mousse or whatever new pastry Luke was creating that day, and before long you were getting to enjoy luxury foods on the daily (much to Beel’s jealousy)

Boy only believed that the debt was paid when you told him that there was no debt to pay, that you sketched those quick little doodles for him out of kindness and not obligation

Believe it or not, Luke’s eyes actually welled with tears for a second at that, before he wrapped you up in a giant (is it really giant if the hugger is so little?) hug, wailing something about you being too “pure” and “perfect” for the Devildom, and that one day you would be very happy in the Celestial Realm

You pat his head, telling him that if it truly made him this happy, you would be glad to help him out again and sketch some food doodles whenever he wanted some new ideas

Cue another round of hugs, muffled crying, and sobs about how amazing you are

Barbatos

Barbatos knew, of course

Not because he used his powers or anything, he would hardly use them for something so trivial, but he was aware from the start that you were an artist because it was he who prepared for your arrival in the Devildom, ensuring that you had all the same amenities and comforts you were used to in the human realm

And, as such, that included art supplies

So the very moment he set his eyes on you, he was aware that you were an artist

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually be good at it

He sees your sketchbook when he’s casually strolling through the RAD library, finding you completely knocked out on one of the tables, the spiral binding of the sketchpad still digging indents into your cheek where you lie on top of it

At first, the butler rearranges your position as a courtesy

He lifts your head and rests it on your hand - which makes a much softer pillow -  coincidentally placing your books back inside your bag and taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across the desk

But then he just happens to glance inside

And the second he does, he’s mesmerized

There’s not much in the world that can surprise Barbatos - not after he’s looked after Diavolo, of all people, for so many millennia - but the butler still finds himself holding his breath as he flips through your sketchpad, each piece telling a story so evocative that it leaves him wanting more even when he arrives at a blank page, abruptly realizing that he’s just gone through your entire sketchbook without your permission

Of course, you just have to wake up at that precise moment - sleepy eyes glancing up at the butler and wondering if you’re hallucinating, but the book in his hands is far too real and the shocked expression on his face is impossibly jarring and you flinch, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you realize what must have happened

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman about it, kindly telling you to get more rest so that you don’t pass out in a public library surrounded by demons who want to eat your soul, but he ends the sharp warning with a rather kind remark about your artwork

“I liked the second-last piece best,” He murmurs, casting you a cryptic smile before bidding you farewell

And obviously, the moment he’s out of sight, your nose is buried in your sketchbook, fingers flipping furiously to find the second-last piece you drew which you cannot seem to remember at all, and—

Oh

A flush immediately erupts on your cheeks as you see the colored sketch, something inspired by nothing more than a whim

It’s simply two people on a walk—both of them vague imitations of what your mind had wistfully conjured up—one of them bearing the telltale mismatched hair and olive green eyes, the other sharing a quiet resemblance to yourself - a conscious decision, of course

But just as you’re about to flip off the page, another detail you’d forgotten about draws your attention—and your cheeks suddenly burn in embarrassment as you realize why Barbatos singled this piece out

The figures are smiling, gazing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And there, in the very center of the piece, it is obvious: 

They are holding hands

Diavolo

RIP to Diavolo’s royal painter

They have been replaced

By you

As much as you fought it, as much as you argued that you were not fitting of this position, as much as you pleaded with the demon lord to not force this title upon your shoulders, Diavolo’s decision to appoint you as the honorary Devildom painter was final—and nothing can change his mind once it’s made up

The title is really just that: a title. Diavolo knows that you’re a busy student, and while he honored your artistic talents with this position, he’s not about to actually force you through the expected proceedings of a true royal painter, not while you’re trying to survive being an exchange student in hell with an entirely unfamiliar curriculum in front of you

But on occasion, he’ll send you a text, asking if you’re free

And you’ll head on over to his palace, ready to paint him

And unlike every other demon, angel, and human in the Devildom, when Diavolo models for you, he actually models nude

Asmo is jealous

Sexual tension is high when you paint him, let’s just leave things at that

And honestly, it really doesn’t matter what you paint - Diavolo seems to be more interested in the fact that it’s a human who did the art in the first place

He once saw your RAD binder, noticing the little doodles you’d drawn on the corner of all your papers, and he immediately took them—declaring that they were art to be preserved for all eternity for historical documentation purposes

So yeah

There’s a hall in Diavolo’s palace filled with your RAD math homework, an eternal reminder of the assignments you copied off of Solomon

(You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you’ve drawn some rather inappropriate doodles on those pages or the fact that, despite having copied all the answers, you still managed to get nearly one-third of the problems wrong, and now your mistakes are to be showcased in the Devildom for centuries to come)

It gets to the point where you and Solomon start making bets over how basic you can get with your art for Diavolo to still consider it “amazing” and “utterly awe-inspiring,” as he likes to put it

In honor of that bet, there is currently a banana peel with a few marker doodles on it hanging in a preserved case in an iced room in the lowest levels of the palace, as none of the “art” can be wasted

But in truth, the demon lord’s fixation with human culture is endearing, especially when Diavolo tries so hard to be accepting of it

So eventually you stop giving Diavolo wacky art and actually start putting your full effort into your creations—your reward being the fact that the final piece you complete gets hung in Diavolo’s private bedroom, where he promises to gaze at it every night for the rest of eternity, vowing to remember his time with you every time he sees it

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him.  But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

[superworldunkown]

“Daddy, did you die?”

AN: While I wait patiently for all of the ‘Bakugou wakes up from a hospital bed and rushes to Deku’s side’ fanfics to be populated and/or reposed  from when we all thought this was a headcanon, plz enjoy my Domestic Daddy Bakugou x Daughter Kiara spin on the matter.

Summary: Being a hero is hard. Being a hero and a dad...why wasn’t this taught at U.A? Bakugou x Kiara 

(Lol sometimes I pretend he waking up in the below image and the first thing he see is me and I’m like “Shush BB, your melanin queen is here.”) 

Ouch.

Bakugou had awoken in hospitals with no recollection of how he got there before, but this one carried an extra special ouch with it. Villains were getting stronger and stronger it seemed, and now with the widespread availability of quirk enhancing and suppressing drugs on the market, it made the old ‘Win To Save, Save to Win’ mantra quite the challenge. Also, anything with Deku made things 100 times more complicated.

 It was supposed to be a simple rescue mission - they all seem to start out that way, but as always, something catastrophic had to happen and Deku just HAD to jump in and put his life on the line for everyone. And, of course, as his partner, Bakugou just HAD to blast on in after him. Who else was going to keep the damn nerd with the most incredibly powerful and incredibly secret quirk alive?

Speaking of, where was that damn nerd anyways? 

Taking a rather large breath, Bakugou pulled the oxygen mask away from his mouth and pushed his sore body into a resting position. The machines he was connected to hummed in their disapproval, rattling his already irritated brain. But it was no matter to Bakugou, he had things to do, and no machine designated to keep him alive as going to stop him, damnit.

He could see beneath his hospital gown his torso and chest covered in white medical tape - that’s right! The hit to the shoulder he took in battle. Great, another scar to add to his growing collection. His mind was already thinking of how he was going to explain this scar to you when you explicitly expressed that he didn’t come home with another one. You too knew that missions with Deku always tended to go heroic vs under the radar.

 As Bakguou began to move his legs towards the side of the bed his eyes caught a white piece of paper that was folded at the end of the bed slip to his side. The words ‘Read Me Kacchan’ written in an oh so familiar handwriting. 

‘Hey Kacchan, 

As you requested, as of 7:37am this morning, I am alive and checking in on the rest of the rescue team. Incase you are curious, I have all my vitals on the back of this paper. Please stay in bed and rest.  - Deku’

Bakugou let out a huff while he refolded the note and stuck it in his pant pocket. Since his graduation from U.A he had gained rather irritating nicknames among his former classmates turned hero partners. 

“Damn, working with Bakugou can be such a pain sometimes. Sheesh, you can’t even get a papercut under his watch.” Sero would groan.

“Hey, he’s just being a manly captain that’s all.” Kirishima would chime in, “Always looking out for us! And besides, he was a lot worse at U.A.” 

“Yeah,” Mina rolled her eyes, “From Lone Wolf to Mother Hen, quite the upgrade.”

Bastards. All of them.

After a rather nasty battle Bakguou would be the first to roam around the hospital, busting doors down to check in on the status of the team, only to rip them a new one for being reckless and careless. There was an unspoken rule on when teaming up with this hero, don’t even think about dying on his watch. If you do, he’ll murder you. And it goes without saying that no one has broken that rule in his 5 years of professional hero work. Excuse him for keeping everyone fucking safe! 

Pushing the rather annoying memories into the back of his brain, he toyed with the idea of getting up for his usual rounds of ‘Who the hell got hurt?!’ duty. However, the moment he let out a slight exhale of relief his ears were filled with a rather disturbing sound. It was faint, perhaps a few rooms down and barely auditable, but there was no way he could not hear it. 

Why was there a child crying? And why did it sound like Kiara? 

Instantly, his body jerked into action. Was she hurt? Why was she here? Where were you? Don’t tell him that you were in that mess from earlier with the villains. Even worse, did you go into labor already and he wasn’t there?!

 Damnit. 

Damnit. 

Damnit! 

The machines let out a dangerous whine as Bakugou began to pull everything off of him to get to the door. His legs gave out the moment he took two steps. Why the hell was he so weak?! Crawling wasn’t beneath him, if it got him closer to his daughter, so be it. Sweat began to form at the tip of his brow, running down his neck and soaking through is bandages. 

“No it’s okay i’ll go check on-Kacchan?!” Deku paused as he opened the door to Bakugou’s hospital room, only to rush to his side, “Didn’t you get my note?!” 

Bakugou was shaking at this point, grabbing at Deku’s shoulder only to use him as a weight to further push himself closer to the door. He could still hear his daughters cries, “Shut up...you damn nerd. If you’re not going to help-” 

Deku tried his best to reason with him, “You need to stop moving, you were hit with some kind of quirk suppression drug, its like poison and you’re only agitating it.”

“Where is she?” Bakugou managed to get out before his head collapsed on to the cool tile of the hospital floor, “Where’s my kid?” 

He could still hear the mixture of his daughters cries and Deku’s anguish as his vision went completely dark.

***

Ouch. Double Fucking Ouch.

Waking up for a second time in the hospital hurts even worse than the first. Bakugou found himself back in his bed, reconnected to the machines, twice as sore and twice as pissed off. Forget the rules, when he sees Deku again he’s going to -

“Daddy?” 

Bakugou jerked his head to the side to meet a pair of tiny, puffy red eyes. Kiara sat on her mother’s lap, her lip quivering and arms shaking.

Luckily for Bakugou his hospital bed was reclined slightly upright, giving him the perfect positioning to catch his daughter as she leaped into his arms.

“Kiara be careful baby!” You called.

Kiara ignored your chastising and buried herself into her father’s chest, tears flowing freely. Bakugou ignored the pain, wrapping his arms around her to pull her even closer. The relief of her safety was worth all the pain. His arms gripped around her a bit tighter as if Kiara would slip away from him again. Kiara never cried like this before, even during her worst temper tantrums (which she 100% inherited from Bakugou’s side of the family), she never acted like this. 

Bakugou turned his head towards you, his cheek brushing against the top of Kiara’s head as he looked for some clarification to Kiara’s behavior. 

“She’s scared Katsuki.” You answered simply. Seeing your husband’s confusion you elaborated further, “You were unconscious for a whole day before you woke up the first time. We tried visiting you but when she saw you lying there she started crying, and really hasn’t stopped since.”

“But I’m fine.” 

“I know that.” You reassured him, “But, this is the first time she’s seeing you get a little beat up and that’s scary. She’s not a baby anymore Katsuki, she’s understanding how dangerous hero work can be.” 

It dawned on him; the same, gut twisted feeling that brewed in his stomach anytime Deku or a member of his team got hurt was now being manifested in his 3 year old daughter. His eyes moved down to his daughters head, watching her continue to cry into his chest. Damn, he was hopping she inherited his quirk and not his dangerously high levels of panic and anxiety. He then moved his gaze over the the bump in your stomach. Was this going to happen to them too? What the hell should he do!

He felt the gentle nudge on his bruised shoulder, you mouth silently forming the command to say something to soothe small girl crying in his arms.

“Oi,” he tried to make his usually ear piercing, gravely voice as smooth as possible.

Kiara poked her head up, her ruby eyes staring deeply into her fathers, “Daddy, did you die?”

“Huh? Hell no. You think some lame ass villain can kill me?! You think I’m weak?”

You ran your hand across your already tired face, you wouldn’t expect a Bakugou style father/daughter talk to go any different, but seriously?

Kiara shook her head violently, small tears flying from her eyelashes. Katsuki was beaming, despite the pain, “That’s right kid. Being a hero means we have to do scary things sometimes. I know today was scary but I never lose, got that? I’m a Bakugou, and so are you. We always win and we always kick ass.” His large callous hands drew to his daughters face, wiping away any remaining tears.

“And it’s okay to be scared sweetie.” You chimed in while leaning closer to your daughter, “But Daddy and everyone we love is okay today. And we can be happy about that, right?” 

Kiara nodded, sniffling “Mr. Deku is okay too?” 

“Pfft,” Katsuki huffed while shifting Kiara off his lap to lay by his side, “The damn nerd is just peachy.” 

“Daddy, why do...why do you call Mr. Deku a, a damn-?” 

“That’s a fun name Daddy calls Mr. Deku that only Daddy can say and that’s all you need to know about that.” You chimed in quickly, careful not to let Bakguou destroy your precious daughters mind any further. Kiara shrugged her shoulders and curled at her fathers side; the three of them a happy, but rather dysfunctional family.

[haikyuuwaifu]

Chapter 7

BAD BLOOD

Genre: Angst, Drama, NSFW

Warning: Swearing

MASTERLIST

KUROO + ATSUMU +HIMIKO

That afternoon found Y/N snuggled up on the couch, watching some show enjoying the quietness of the house. She knew she had to hash things out with Kuroo and Atsumu; she just didn’t know where to start. Things hadn’t been too bad since the first week she moved in; they had stopped inviting over random hook-ups and Atsumu stopped glaring...but he was still a bit cold towards her. She had gathered that Kuroo wouldn’t follow unless Atsumu let whatever silly grudge he had against her go.

Behind her a door swung open...she paid no mind to it; her eyes focused on the screen in front of her. Somewhere behind her, someone clicked the TV off and Y/N found herself lifted from her comfortable position. Atsumu settled himself on the couch, and brought her down on his lap; straddling him; he  wrapped her arms around his shoulders and stuffing her face into his chest. “Just sit, and be quiet babygirl...If I gotta talk about this...I don’t want ya to see my face when I do it.” he mumbled into her hair. Behind him, Kuroo waved softly, before walking towards the kitchen to grab some drinks. “It’s time we give you an explanation Kitten.” Kuroo stated, chuckling at the shocked look on her face.

Absent mindedly Atsumu stroked Y/N’s hair as he started talking. “When I was in high school...I dated this girl, her name was Himiko...and she was...fuck she was everything I thought I needed in a partner at 17.” he mumbled. “Don’t take this the wrong way baby cakes; but she was a lot like you.” “She had this way about her...that drew people in, and the way she smiled lit up every room she walked in.” Snuggling further into his chest, Y/N listened to the soft timbre of Atsumu’s voice. “She had just moved to Hyogo from Tokyo; so ya know she was everythin our country girls weren’t.” he huffed out. He picked up a glass Kuroo set down and took a sip. “She had style, grace, and an attitude that made my knees weak.” Y/N stroked his chest softly, as Atsumu got lost in thought. “And what about you cool cat?” she murmured eyes peering over at Kuroo. 

“Not my turn yet kitten, now shhh” he whispered booping her nose softly. “We got together, after a bit of chasing on my part...guess I had ta prove my country ass could handle a city girl like her... We were together for the rest of high school.” he murmured nodding towards Kuroo. 

Kuroo had Y/N’s had in his marveling at the difference in size. As he played with her fingers, he began his story. “I’ve lived in Tokyo for most of my life...and for most of my life I was in love with my neighbor. She was the first girl I met when I moved there and she had been my best friend from day one.” Kuroo whispered. “I confessed to her, the night of her 16th birthday; and at the point in my life everything was perfect.” He smiled wistfully, at the memory. Y/N snuggled further into Atsumu’s hold basking in the heat radiating from him. “What happened next Kuroo.” she asked voice filled with curiosity. “Well, I confessed my love for her; she became my girlfriend, and a year later she moved away.” he smiled shaking his head. “D-did you break up?!” she shouted sitting up and looking at Kuroo eyes wide. “Of course not kitten. How could I break up with who I thought was the love of my life?”  he grinned widely before poking her forehead. “Oi! don’t pick on me!” she huffed rather cutely a pout adorning her face. Atsumu sat back, taking it all in. ‘How could someone like her be soooo, so fucking perfect.’ he thought to himself as his hands found themselves stroking her bare thighs. “So how did the two of you meet?” she asked, her eyes meeting Atsumu’s vibrant brown ones. 

“Well sugar lips” Atsumu mumbled, taking her small hands into his large ones, “We met at one of those gaming tournaments. We each signed up and were assigned on the same team.” he smiled softly as she peered up at him. “This is where something bad happens huh?” she asked fluttering her eyelids closed and burying her head back on his chest. “Yeah …this is where it gets bad babygirl.” he whispered. Next to them Kuroo spoke up voice a little less happy. “We had kicked it off pretty well, our personalities almost the same...so we made plans to meet up after the tournament...we spent the rest of the tournament talking about our girlfriends and thought it would  be a great idea for all of us to get together.” Stroking her calf softly, Kuroo continued speaking, “ It turns out kitten...that his girlfriend and my girlfriend were one and the same.” 

“Oh no cool cat.” Y/N mumbled. She wrapped her hand around his wrist and pulled him close to her and Atsumu. Shifting slightly she pulled him down to a laid down position and begin stroking her hand through his hair. Her other free hand stroked through Atsumu’s hair as he nuzzled his face into her neck. “Himiko had started crying when she saw the two of us. Tellin us she was sorry and that she loved us both.” Atsumu started. “We couldn’t be mad at her, so we said we’d give her sometime to choose...we’d give her space...like it was our fault.” he chuckled harshly. Next to them Kuroo gripped Y/N’s thigh shifting so he could feel her nails against the back of his scalp. “Tsumu and I agreed that we’d still be friends after the fact...but we didn’t have to worry about that since, Himiko told us over text 3 months later that she had chosen someone else.” Kuroo muttered harshly. “Never told us the guys name or anything like that, just told us he was an up and coming content creator who had more potential than we ever could.”  The three of them sat there in silence thinking of the past. “Well...I’m sorry if you felt like I was going to do what she did, and I know you won’t believe me right away; but I could never do that to anyone here...I have a no dating rule in the house for reasons I’m not ready to talk about...but something like that happened to me too.” She murmured, looking them both in the eyes. Grinning, Atsumu spoke, “No dating rule huh?...we’ll see about that pretty girl...with the four of us after you; you’ll be cracking in no time.”  and before Y/N could ask what he meant the front door opened and everyone else had returned home. Lev, noticing the cuddle session on the house screamed and launched himself on top of the other three demanding snuggles and movies. The rest of the night was spent with the housemates watching shitty Rom-coms, picking on lev, and 5 adults re-thinking some promises they had made to protect themselves. 

Ch.6| Ch.8

@dabilove27 @sempiternal-amour @amberisnotcrazy @elianetsantana @lia-faerie-queen @sakusakeely @cosmicmermaid25 @seomisaho @kellesvt @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @deaththekidwantsyou @mushimoon14@cataxtrophic@wineandionysus @sunflowerirl @bakuhoetoedoroki @kit-kat428 @crybabbicus @sleep3deprived @iminlovewhaikyuu

[obeymeaskme]

Obey Me!: Human and Demon Hearts!

A/N: For those who don't know, I have pinned to my profile the list incase you want to read it from the beginning!

Chapter Two: Reaching the bare minimum (1/2)

Word Count: 1,495

Rating: 18+

Another morning had passed as a week had gone by. It was almost a familiar experience to the girls as the human world school. They woke up, ate, and went to RAD which was within walking distance. The small list of struggles was relatively short, as they didn't need to worry about other demons since they each had their own guards. Bella had been the first to ease into her temporary life in Hell. Noelle on the other hand, had struggled more so. Though Noelle seemed to be a strong headed woman at the start, and willing to protect her friend, her behavior was soon to be exposed as a bit... clumsy, and childish.

Noelle had painted targets on her back, even after the warnings from Lucifer about not angering her classmates. One of which, on occasion, was Leviathan. Needless to say the week had dragged on for her. But the promise of a relaxing weekend had given her a spark of hope. She needed the extra study time, so she found herself in the library shortly after catching Satan at the doors. Part of her could feel the constant rage behind Satan's eyes, yet part of her felt almost connected with him. He was careful, and knowledgeable, giving her a hand at finding the correlating books she needed for her classes. Soon enough they were both sitting in a quiet study session, even then something scratched at the back of Satan's mind, he found himself reaching out to Noelle with a very important question.

“I recognize that you've only been at the school for a week, but you don't seem to be settling in very well...”

A verbal gulp could be heard as she looked up at him, shrugging.

“It's fine Satan. I didn't really come here looking for friends. I don't really remember wanting to come here at all to be honest... no offense.”

Noelle felt the smallest bit of comfort that he had taken notice of her struggle, but still felt like she was walking on a minefield. She had seen him get out of control over something as small as losing a bookmark, signifying his lost spot in a mystery novel. Satan widened his eyes in surprise, prodding her further.

“Really? Why just at the beginning of the week you were pestering Levi with questions about the different types of demons, and pointing out every little detail you sought amusing in our art class...”

So he'd noticed her behaviors, which came with no surprise as he was extremely analytical, and observant. Noelle had shaken her head, eyes closed, and remembering how quickly Levi had shut her down, exclaiming that he wasn't a tour guide. A ghostly grimace adorned her face as she locked eyes with Satan.

“Yeah... I was excited. Maybe a bit... too excited. I thought it was kind of cool. It's the kind of scenario a big nerd like me would only dream of being in. But now that I'm actually here, It feels no different from when I was living in the human world...” She gave a pause, Satan taking the opportunity to interrupt her thoughts.

“So you struggled in school too then?”

She nodded at him, then explained her lack of popularity in the human world. Especially with school. She explained that though she knew her grades were important, she couldn't shake the feeling of constant abandonment, and neglect from those closest to her. The desire for parental attention wormed its way into her schooling habits. She only tried hard where receiving praise was easy, and could only seem to take interest in certain classes. She had admitted her regret of not giving it her all. Satan had stayed silent, his hands folded on the table, fully engrossed in her story. She shifted uncomfortably when it finally sank in that he had been staring at her so intensely.

“S-sorry. I didn't mean to complain so much, it's just... Ya' know.”

Satan shook his head, sitting straight up from his hunched over position, and disagreed with her.

“No, I don't know. Even with all the teasing from the other demons, and the lectures I'm sure Lucifer has given you on some of your... more peculiar behaviors, you seem to have something on your mind that lets you still push on past it all. What is it?”

Noelle gave a small amused snort, and replied-

“Bella. She seems so happy down here, ironically enough, and I'd do anything to keep it that way. I know I have the option to just leave whenever I want too, but... Part of me really wants to stay. To try. It's crazy in a way, but this could be a shot in hell-”

The two of them share a quick playful groan and chuckle over her joke before she continues.

“- A shot in hell that lets me try again, ya' know? Make up for what I didn't do. I'd be more crazy if I didn't take this. And so long me and Bella are friends while down here, I don't mind the bullying... Or Levi's erhm- his habit of avoiding me.”

Satan nodded, fully understanding Levi's nature when it comes to 'Normies' as he calls it. The conversation began taking a turn toward academics again, and for that moment Noelle had felt safe. She soon recognized that the Avatar of Wrath had been more than knowledgeable. There was a caring nature under his anger, and the dark skies got darker and night drew near.

The two left the library, and just barely made it to dinner. The open Dinning room was still so impressive. Noelle had been so immersed in her appreciation for the gold work and (hopefully, not but likely fake) skulls that she almost missed the current sitting arrangement.

Usually the brothers would sit by order of age, with Bella and Noelle at the ends, but today was apparently different. Asmodeus, Mammon, Bella, and Belphegor were aligned on the far side of the table. Lucifer had adjusted his chair to the end, and the other side sat Satan, Beelzebub, an empty chair, and Leviathan. Everyone's eyes, excluding a distracted by his Mobile phone Levi, had focused on Noelle as she stood fixated on the empty chair.

Lucifer had already seen the question of 'why?' floating around on her face. So he gave a brief explanation.

“It was recommended to me that Lord Diavolo wanted to see you and Bella have all the opportunity to bond with your Guides. So I gave everyone a new assigned seat for meal time. Feel free to join us if you'd like-” He was quickly cut off from his playful attempt at banter by Noelle's obvious discomfort, and sighed.

“Unless you have other plans for the night?”

Noelle looked at the table, her stomach asking for food, but her mind won her over at the thought of being so close to Leviathan. Usually she wouldn't mind, but earlier that week she had pushed Levi over the edge, and he had spat back at her. It was an argument over an art project. It was a co-op assignment, and Levi had verbally expressed his distaste for being forced as her partner for the project. It was a simple task. Create a piece of work that shows both partner's skills, and favorite art styles. Though Noelle had tried to appease him by making a quick joke about them both liking anime, it was deemed as derogatory by the Envious demon.

She had been expressing her skill levels in the anime, and manga art styles, and was trying to offer her aid. But it only worsened the situation. Levi had retaliated and torn her down as quickly as possible. He made comments about her being too young to ever catch up to him, and how she probably didn't even know a lick about art in general. He pointed out the amount of books she had bought on the subject and told her no amount of studying was going to make her good at it either.

The room spun for her. She had known nothing but art. It was a sore point, and she had shut down, swallowing hard as the following class 'oohed' and 'ahhed' at them. As if she was caught in an actual lie. She had refused to speak to Levi the rest of the day. Levi hardly noticed.

Noelle shook her head from the memory, and ignored the fractures forming in her heart as she nodded at Lucifer. Her sadness gave away slightly, finding a bit of poison in her tone.

“No- I actually have to study up on something for art class. As I was recently told that I apparently don't have that knowledge...”

She had turned on her heels quickly to walk away. The cold remark bringing the memory back up to the surface, along with the tears she had fought.

[avery-allyss]

I guess this could be worse.

The assignment was to create a design based off of one or more creation myths. I have little hints of several because copying something too closely seems redundant. Yes it a bit of a confusing jumble and you need to stretch a lil to pick up all the references, but I like it that way.

Egg shape is from several myths, mainly because my favorite myth is the Finnish creation myth, which is also the source of the duck. I'll get more into that further down in the reflective portion of this post.

The yin/yang base for the devision of the egg is from Asia. The concept is more into the description of the energies, the yang being masculine firey intenseness of light, and the yin being the quite coolness of darkness.

The volcano ang glacier are derived from Norse mythology, and I played with the idea of making some sort of root system in the line separating the two to represent the beginning of yggdrasil.

The reeds and cat are from the native American myth. Something about a Reed carrying the founders through worlds, and loosing a war to cat people? It stuck in my mind.

This is the second time I've ever done print making, the first was over ten years ago and stamping a smaller design on an extra large Tshirt I still use as pjs.

The entire process was a mess.

We had one linoleum panel to work with. We had to carve away each color we wanted to keep.

I started slow because the white and yellow layers were so complicated.

I miss measured the paper size so the back of all four copies are a mess.

I made four copies, and every one had a different mystake. The one showed was the only one that the cat showed up on.

I fucked up carving alot, I just got good at covering it up.

The duck has no bill. I tried to make up for it by giving them an intentional halo, it didn't quite work.

The reeds are too short. This actually gives off a slightly more organic vibe than I was going for. I'm not quite sure if I like it.

One of the sun swirls is broken up a bit because my hand sliped.

The blue layer was off and ended up giving the volcano some highlight. It pops a little until you realize it's out of place, so I don't like it.

Printed red through black in one day, my entire arm hates me still. I had my entire arm tensed to prevent slip ups. It's not so bad right now because my mom told me which med to take today, but I couldn't sleep on that side or my back very well last night. At least I didn't break skin when I stabed myself! I need to lay off crocheting, but that's how I decompress...

I will repost with individual pictures of each copy and the drawing on Monday, that's when the crit is anyway.

What I would do differently

Smaller egg, let the corners interact with each other a bit.

I would play with the idea of white clouds, or white with black highlights.

I would make the sun swirls part of the red gradient. I would also simplify their shape to make them easier to carve.

I would look at different ways to portray the cat. Maybe I would play with the idea of red eyes on the cat. Red claws to represent violence? Cause I'm not going to ever go all in on a horrific portrayal, hints have to do for kitty.

Multi colored and more consistent pebble bed. Maybe mossy rocks or sand with grasses growing in? Seeds? Arthropods to pull in yet another creation myth?

Duck would have a bill and a halo or some sort. There plenty of methods to imitate and explore.

I would play with the idea of defining individual rock structure on the volcano and the small waterfall.

Gemstones on the volcano?

Maybe not even do a volcano, and just make a black dragon on a mountain? Chinese style to keep up with the theme of creation?

Shade the reeds in gradients, maybe make thin red lines to imitate their texture?

Dragonflies by the reeds?

Green layer to add moss and lichen, as well as springtime pigments for the reeds as opposed to fall, can you even marble shades effectively in print making? Green detailing on the cat would start getting Erie.

Yggdrasil roots in the division, multi color highlights on yellow, tiny branch coming around to poke out by the sun?

Grey to black gradient instead of straight black for the outline?

Use a digital painting software instead of actualy carving it all. That's the only way I will play with this image again.

The Finnish Godess of Creaton

Luonnotar

Once the universe was comprised of three things.

There was nothingness, a vast unmeasurable abyss where not even a single star shone. The power of stillness was held in the dark expanse.

There was a river, a mysterious flow of swirling posability. The power and movement of the universe was held in the 'waters'.

And lastly, there was a girl. Luonntar was the daughter of the stillness of the abyss and the power of movement. She was alone, and there was nothing for her to do, no way to express herself, or to release energy, or even just simply enrich her life. She did not know companionship, so she did not know to be lonely. She did not sleep, nor did she truly live. She only felt emptiness. There was no pain to be felt, nor was there joy to be had.

Something changed. Something tightened in Luonntar's chest, as though her heart was hurting. Over another eternity she came to recognize the pain as desire. Into her emptiness had flowed a blind longing. She wanted something but she did not know what there even was to want. She wanted change, but because she never experienced anything but the same river and the same darkness, she had no idea what it was she wanted.

Slowly (as everything so far had), an idea budded in Luonntar's mind, the first idea ever in the universe. She jumped into the river and swam. She did not sink, but floated on the surface, looking back up to the darkness she had left from. This action permanently altered the universe, though seeing how took some more time (of corse). In the meantime the girl relaxed as she drifted through the river.

Then came a duck ((grapes are not involved in this myth stahp)) swimming up to Luonntar. A duck, in a universe where there had only ever been one being, now there were two! With Luonntar's change and wish, she changed the entire universe and a new world was created in which the duck could exist too.

The curious bird swam around the girl looking at the strange other being, the girl laying very still as she did the same. The duck climbed up onto Luonntar's warm knee and sat. Then something else happened, something so beautiful that Luonntar could not believe her eyes.

The duck layed three eggs there upon the goddess' knee because it was the only warm dry place in the entire universe, and the only place the future could hatch.

Luonntar kept so very still, anxious of the fragile life prched upon her knee. The duck warmed her clutch as they grew hotter and hotter as the future drew near.

Luonntar yearned for that future like she had never yearned before, bringing back the dull pain from before. She ignored it.

The eggs grew uncomfortably hot, the ducks featherstickled her, and the bebed feet left tiny scratches on her. She ignored it all.

Suddenly the duck shifted, her feathers tickling Luonntar and she couldn't help but to twitch reflexively. She did not mean to but it was enough. She watched horrified as the eggs tumbled into the river. She berated herself, fearing for the eggs. Would they sink forever out of sight? Would the future be lost?

Instead the eggs broke open. Marvels poured forth. The yolks joined into the sun and rose up into the abyss. The whites became a silver moon, rising as well. The tiny bits of the shells became the stars, scattered disjointed with the rest of the remains of the three eggs. In a world where only darkness had existed, light was born. It was magic.

Luonntar was changed by the magic, as she dove beneath the surface. Something was calling to her from the depths. It was the mud at the bottom. She grabbed handfuls and swam back to the surface. She molded a cone from the mud upon her belly and placed it on the surface of the river. It rose into the sky and became a mountain.

She dived again and again, returning to the surface to mold more new landscapes. She carved veins of rivers through the land, scooping out lakes. The stars watched in fascination. Inspired, they rearranged themselves into designs. The moon learned out to show its changing face to the earth.

As Luonntar built the land, life burst forth. Plants grew, creatures came to be. All life was the children of the new earth. When the goddess rested at long last and looked at the bright sky, the green foliage, and the lively children, she knew it was good.

((Adlibed from "Wild Girls" by Patricia Monaghan))

[bjy-on-ao3]

Reader is a noob sexually (and her body is sensitive), is a shy introvert, and is a bit petite. She and Adachi have become lovers recently. One evening after Adachi comes back from work he finds reader in his apartment horny and turned on. She begs him to relieve her. I'd love if it had dirty talk, degradation, some biting, and rough sex. Omg please please please

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

This checks off most of the boxes for the request if I understood it correctly. Also, I don’t really think Adachi would be the type to give someone a key to his place, but the alternative is ‘Reader is a bit yandere and picked the lock’ and I didn’t think that matched up with this well. Thank you for your patience, I know it’s been a while since this request was made! Summary Reader invites themselves into Adachi’s apartment while he’s away at work. Adachi punishes them for their shameless, though it might just be encouraging the bad behavior. Tags/Warnings Biting, Creampie, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Established Relationship, Misogyny, Name-Calling, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Sex

Mercy (F! Reader/Tohru Adachi)

“Ugh, what a crap day.”

Adachi approached the door to his apartment, feeling tired and bitter as ever. On one hand, he was happy to be off shift and not have to worry about behaving like the overly nice guy society demanded. On the other, he knew it wouldn’t last long.

His train of thought and speech screeched to a stop as he noticed a light shining from his apartment window. “Did I leave that on?” His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. It wasn’t like him to forget something like that. He didn’t need to be paying extra for power he wasn’t using.

Torn from his thoughts, Adachi was on guard now, focused on the apartment. He decided he hadn’t left the light on, so who had? Had someone broken into his apartment? Out of all those they could have chosen, the home of a police detective seemed the poorest choice. Neighborhood hooligans causing trouble, maybe? He couldn’t be sure.

He crept to the door, finding it still locked. The befuddled look on his face deepened even further. Had it been him after all? Unless… He shook his head, finding his key and unlocking the door before pushing it open tentatively. He cast a wary glance around the kitchen the door opened into. No one. Not a soul to be seen, and nothing in the room looked awry. At least, not until his eyes swept over the sliding door adjoining the kitchen and his bedroom, which he noticed was barely ajar.

He moved toward the sliding door with a long, purposeful stride, though quietly. He slid open the door with a loud noise and a flourish. His eyes widened when he spied a figure sitting on his bed that popped up as the doors slammed open. He wiped the surprise from his face when he realized who it was that had made themselves so comfortable on his bed.

“Tohru, you’re home. Finally,” you greeted. You stood there, looking genuinely glad and relieved to see him, dressed only in a loose shirt and panties. Adachi was as perplexed as ever, abruptly remembering the key he had given you to his apartment. “I’ve been waiting for you,” you confessed happily, though something desperate lingered beneath the cheer.

“Waiting for me?” He asked. He reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, expecting to see a missed message or something stating your intent to come over and wait for him to arrive back from work. No missed calls, no unread messages. Nothing.

“I...I couldn’t stop thinking about last time.” Your voice was low, meek almost, as if it were embarrassing to admit, and you cast your eyes to the floor. Adachi said nothing, feeling as if you weren’t finished speaking, despite your hesitant tone. Not that Adachi wasn’t used to you being shy, especially admitting certain things. “It’s been driving me crazy,” you finished, looking him back in the eyes.

When  Adachi observed the noticeably wet spot in your panties, it hit him what you were alluding to. The confusion took a backseat to pride, and he couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh? Is that right?” He asked pressingly, willing you to go on.

You swallowed nervously, hesitating as if trying to pluck the right words from the air before you spoke. “Y-yes. Whenever I try to go about doing something else, the memory... just comes right back to me,” you explained. There was a neediness creeping into your tone. “I tried, um, taking care of stuff by myself, but…” you stopped, unsure how to continue. Stating it so plainly was a mortifying idea.

But Adachi wasn’t going to let you off easily. Especially when you had come over to his apartment just to wait for him because you needed him so badly. You were going to fess up one way or another what you wanted from him, even if he already knew from context.

“But what, baby?” His speech had some of the warmth you heard when he was in town, in public, but the cool and alluring tone beneath it belied a very different mood.

The fake warmth soothed you enough to confess more. “It’s...it’s not the same. It has to be you. It has to be your hands… has to be your cock.” The words coming out burned as hotly as you knew your face did. “I need you, please… Tohru,” you trailed off again, the words getting stuck in your throat.

Your heart pounded even faster in your chest. It had already been screaming, protesting your brazenness and warring with your desire. But you needed relief and only Adachi could give it to you. You recalled the saying about it being easier to ask forgiveness rather than permission, but now standing there feeling like your face was on fire, when there was no taking it back, you weren’t so sure. Adachi never had been the most forgiving person in the time you’d been together, after all. But he didn’t seem mad now. Perhaps that should have been more frightening.

“C’mon, keep going. I wanna hear more about what a needy little whore you are,” Adachi insisted. The mocking tone and degrading term was something you were familiar with from him. It excited you as much as it unsettled you.

You took in a steadying breath that rattled in your chest. Speaking lewdly so boldly was new to you. Hell, so much of what you’d learned from being with Adachi was new to you. “I… touch me, Tohru, please. F-fuck me, I need you so bad,” you finally said. It amazed you that you hadn’t spontaneously combusted by now.

Adachi, crooked smile inching wider, stepped further into his bedroom, closing the sliding doors with a shuffling sound and moving toward you. You made to meet him in the middle of the bedroom, but he brushed past you to stand by the bed, leaving you looking on in confusion. “Hmm, as hot as that is, I don’t think you’ve earned it,” Adachi concluded, turning to face you.

Protests sprang from your lips immediately, unthinking. “B-but, Tohru, please, I—”

“Shut your mouth, dumb cunt,” Adachi snapped venomously. You licked your lips anxiously and did as you were told. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. You come over late at night, uninvited, without a single word, and expect me to fuck you?” There was an indignant incredulousness in his tone, but something else just beneath. “I think you need to be taught a lesson,” he said. The previously surprised and then neutral gaze he had given you had turned narrow and cold.

“W-what do you mean?” You asked genuinely.

“Come here.” The command was short, providing no room for negotiation, but that didn’t stop you.

“Tohru, I just—”

“ Now , you stupid bitch,” Adachi snarled, his patience wearing thinner. You hastily made your way back to the bed until you stood beside him, watching keenly, a light tremor coursing through you. Of fear or excitement or both, you weren’t sure. “That’s better,” Adachi said, tone much less sharp.

He raised one hand to the curve of your hip, letting it lay there almost gently, and you sighed. His other hand lifted to your mouth where he absently pressed his thumb to your lips. You gave in to the pressure quickly, letting the digit slide past your lips and swiping your tongue over it, before sucking at it.

“Now, just how should I punish a selfish little whore?” He stroked over your enthusiastic tongue, pressing down hard and thrusting his thumb further back, making you nearly gag. “Ah, I think I’ve got it,” Adachi declared, a glee trickling into his voice. He pulled his thumb from your mouth and his touch abandoned you altogether, making you whine. “Get rid of those,” he demanded, prodding at your clothes.

“Yes, Tohru, anything,” you agreed, eagerly stripping and discarding them onto the floor in a heap. Your trembling was even more evident when you waited before him fully bare, though the chilly air of the room didn’t help.

“Now bend over,” Adachi commanded, with a nod of his head to his bed. “I want to see that tight little ass.”

You nodded dumbly, stepping around him and bending over the mattress, burying your hands in the sheets. You didn’t look back at first, trying to regain some control of your pulse and the shudders that wracked your body. Adachi pressed close behind you, and you squirmed ticklishly away from the hem of his blazer and tie as they trailed over your skin.

He lay one palm languidly on the swell of your ass, caressing reverently for a moment and enjoying the heat and softness of your skin. His other hand imitated it, before rolling over and clamping onto your hip opposite the first.

“How much did you touch yourself while you waited for me, huh?” Adachi asked casually, as if it were a simple, not absolutely embarrassing question to answer.

“I-well, I—” Your voice cracked and rang out in a surprised yelp when Adachi lifted the hand groping your ass away and brought it down harshly onto the sensitive skin. “S-so much! But it wasn’t—” Adachi’s heavy hand broke your speech again as he swatted your ass a second time, making both cheeks tingle and sting. “But it wasn’t enough! I need you . I had to come see you!” You cried out, voice shaking, the spankings only making more wetness pool between your legs.

“Yeah? And you couldn’t be bothered to tell me?” Adachi seemed most upset by your audacity. He raised his hand in another smack, sharper this time, the sound of skin-on-skin resounding in the bedroom and you shouted. “Guess I shouldn’t expect a whore like you to have the brains to think straight,” he degraded in a hiss, giving one cheek a harsh squeeze.

“I wanted to s-surprise you—aah, fuck!” You cursed when Adachi struck you again, the spankings coming quicker, giving you less time to recover.

“Is that so?” He sounded unconvinced.

“Yes, Tohru. Please, I just want you, I need you,” you begged. “I ca—” The next slap on your ass was the hardest yet, ripping a strangled sound from your throat. “I can’t cum without you!” You shouted, desire and pain straining your voice.

Yet giving Adachi what he wanted was as much of a bane as disobeying. It just made him more cocky, invigorating him to torment you and draw out even more lewd confessions. “Oh yeah? And what if I didn’t want to let you cum?”

The spankings paused as he spoke, as if he wanted to allow you the clarity to take them in. A particularly violent shiver rocked you at the obscenity of his words and the thought of being left with the burning need between your legs untended and ignored. “What if I just wanted to fuck your cute little mouth when I’m done here and send you home?: He threatened. He punctuated the sentence with another hard smack to your ass and you whimpered.

Tears burned in the corner of your eyes, frustration and pain and something vaguely pleasurably smoldering beneath both. Already your ass stung and throbbed, and you knew it would bruise luridly the next day. Beneath you, despite the brace of your arms supporting you, your thighs quaked, your knees threatening to buckle and dump you face first into the sheets.

“No, Tohru please, you have to—” you started, but Adachi cut you off again with another vicious spanking.

He grabbed a fistful of hair in the hand that had held your hip, jerking your head back and making you wince at the strain of the angle. His lips met your ear, and his words made the hair on the back of neck stand on end as yet another shiver seized you.

“I don’t have to do anything, slut.” he said nastily. “You’re my little toy and you’ll take what I give you and thank me when I’m done.” He stopped, and his grip loosened. “Maybe if I feel good enough, you can even cum.”

Adachi let his fingers slip from your hair, the hand on your stinging ass moving away, too, and he shifted closer. The cool fabric of his pants and even colder metal of his belt buckle against your burning skin was a relief, though you still squirmed from the sensation. Past the press of the fabric, you clearly felt how hard Adachi was despite his angry demeanor.

You didn’t realize he had been expecting you to respond until he seized your chest in his hands, tweaking both nipples cruelly and leaving a hard bite on the curve of your neck and shoulder, growling in your ear again. “Well? Answer me.”

“Y-yes, Tohru. I-I’ll take it all. Anything. Everything,” you agreed demurely, your voice shaking along with your body. All the cruel stimulation set you on edge, rattling your words even more than your nerves normally might. “F-fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured under your breath as Adachi continued to roughly toy with your breasts.

Adachi stood straight, his palms leaving your chest and retreating to your ass again, His fingers snaked down to your soaked lips, spreading them open and admiring the slickly glistening pink within. His eyes flickered for a second to the wet spot left on his slacks from where they had been pressed against your slick.

“Look at you. Dripping wet already and I’ve hardly touched your pussy,” he shamed. He was careful not to let his fingers slip further in, as much as he wanted to. “What a pathetic little whore,” he spat out, and you made a soft, desperate sound that only confirmed his words.

“You should be happy I don’t just leave you high and dry right now,” Adachi supplied, as if you ought to thank him for his mercy. But I’ve had a long day and I could use the relief. So consider yourself lucky.”

His touch abandoned you again altogether, and you heard the distinctive sound of his belt buckle clinking, coming undone, and the rustle of his slacks as he disposed of them. Adachi let himself indulge finally in the wetness pooled between your thighs, seeping down them. He slid two fingers easily between your lips, gathering the fluid there and making an appreciative noise as it glistened on his fingers. He raised his fingers to his lips, quickly cleaning them before pressing himself up against your ass.

You winced, the skin still stinging, but you couldn’t help but feel excited all the same at the touch of his hot, bare skin on yours. You cried out again when Adachi grabbed your sore cheeks in both hands, kneading savagely. He thrust himself between your pussy lips, but not inside, coating his cock with your essence. You gave a soft moan, a mixture of hurt and relief, and whimpered pitifully. His cock was so close to where you wanted him, yet with the mood he was in, you wondered if Adachi intended just to antagonize you.

One indecisive hand moved away and back to your chest, pinching a nipple so hard more tears sprang to your eyes and you let out a gasp. “Aaah, Tohru, that hurts,” you complained in a wavering voice strangled by tightness in your throat.

“Good. Maybe it’ll teach you something,” he said, a mean, husky undertone of excitement edging into his voice. “Next time you touch yourself, thinking about me, you tell me,” he warned, bucking his hips and sliding slickly through your lips again.

The tears broke, rolling over your cheeks, feeling cool in contrast to your burning face. “Yes, yes, I swear I will next time, Tohru. I swear,” you promised. Anything to end your punishment and persuade Adachi to bury himself in the needy place he was already so close to. But he wanted to be crystal clear you understood.

“You wait until you’ve got my permission before you come barging in here,” he started. “I’ll fuck your brains out when I want. You’re my shameless whore to use when I want to get off. Have I made myself clear, baby?” There was that gentle term of endearment, mixed in again with the mean names. And yet it felt the most biting of them all.

You nodded your head frantically in compliance, biting your lip and fighting back the sting and the desperate need assaulting your nerves. It wasn’t enough to satisfy Adachi though, and he prompted you to speak by once more by squeezing your ass and your chest sharply. You nearly yelled your answer, obeying the ache, “Yes! I-I’ll only come over when you want me.”

That seemed to be enough. “Good. Now that we’ve got that cleared up and you’ve got me all worked up…” Adachi stopped, pressing his cock more firmly against your dripping heat to emphasis the effect you had on him, “I think it’s time I fucked that needy cunt of yours.”

“Please…” you whined in a pitiful, breathy tone. Despite all the torment, the crude names and rough treatment, you craved him.

Adachi moved against you roughly, cock slipping through your folds again until the thick head pressed against your entrance. He didn’t bother taking his time or savoring the stretch, entering you, fast and rough, all at once. You groaned and shuddered again, the need burning higher the satisfying relief of feeling him hot and hard inside you. You whimpered his name, fisting the sheets tighter and arching back into him.

When he drew back, taking the wonderful fullness with him, you could have cried all over again, but you weren’t left wanting for long, and he slammed back home and filled you to the brim. The motion repeated, his hips rocking against yours carelessly, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, melding with obscene, wet noise from your cunt and the raspy, shaky moans pouring from your mouth. Adachi’s low groans and numerous swears under his breath  joined your voice as he pushed himself as far as he could go, relishing in the soft heat clenching around his cock.

“Shit, you’re so goddamn tight. Did you need my cock this bad?” He groaned, giving one ass cheek another light slap. It was enough to make you gasp and squirm again, but not nearly so hard as your punishment before.

Eventually his other hand joined its twin on your breasts, filling both palms greedily and toying with the nipples. He leaned down, pressing his clothed chest into your back so he could drive himself even harder into your cunt and bite harshly at your shoulders and neck. His growling, excited words were closer now, adding to the fire bubbling in your belly under your skin.

“Pathetic… needy… little… bitch.” His words were broken, interrupted by pants and the force of his hips each time he bucked into you. You moaned louder, your cunt clamping down even more around him at the humiliating words. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for? To be used like a worthless little cock sleeve?” He degraded, his pace slowing, but not the force behind it, his words coming out lower, clearer.

He didn’t need to spur you to answer this time, not with his hands kneading your chest and his cock filling you up over and over so deliciously, making the knot in your gut tense and heat.

“Aaah, y-yes! It’s amazing,” you breathed, voice wavering but thick with the arousal that made you feel near mindless. “You feel so, so good,” you continued, the praise catching in your throat as Adachi touched something inside you that felt especially good.

“Such a good little slut.” The depraved praise was just another catalyst for the fire in your abdomen that strung your body tight. But in it you could hear the way your body affected Adachi as well. A strain dawned in his voice, and his breathing became more ragged. “Tell me, baby, does a fuck toy like you deserve to cum?”

“O-only if you, fuck , want me to, Tohru,” you nearly purred, and Adachi stiffened even more within you at how unexpectedly easily you responded that time.

“That’s right,” he confirmed, picking up his pace, until each deep, hard thrust rocked ythe bed and the frame groaned in protest.

Your mouth fell open, each moan and whimper and gasp coming out full and unimpeded, raising in pitch each time Adachi’s hips pressed flush against yours and his balls slapped against the backs of your thighs.

“Shit. You sound so fucking hot.” The strain in Adachi’s voice was clear as a bell now, and you knew he was close, even distracted by your own pleasure. “I’m gonna fill up that shameless cunt of yours,” he promised bawdily.

“F-fuck, please, Tohru, I-I want your cum.” You surprised yourself with how filthy the words sounded as they fell past your lips, but your face and body could warm no further with embarrassment.

When his rhythm stuttered, Adachi reached one hand down from your breasts, fumbling but quickly finding your swollen clit and rubbing feverishly as his heavy, panting breaths fanned over the back of your neck. Already so overstimulated, it didn’t take long before the tantalizing stroke of Adachi’s fingers burst the coil of heat in your gut and sent you over the edge.

Your cries peaked so loud, you were sure the neighbors nearby could hear, but with the waves of molten pleasure webbing out from your core, you had no mind to care. No mind to be even more humiliated. Adachi’s fingers didn’t stop as you met your climax, and tears ran down your cheeks again; though you weren’t sure if they had ever really stopped. This time, it was from the touch of his fingers and stroke of his cock, quickly becoming overwhelming and almost unpleasant, despite the way your cunt contracted around him and the volume of your moans.

The eager, constant clench of your cunt around his length seemed to be the last push Adachi needed. A positively feral sound met your ears as Adachi stiffened against you, his cum filling you in thick, hot spurts that made you feel even more full. “Fuck, take it all, you dumb slut,” he growled, voice wild and husky as he pumped into you

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, your voice quiet when compared to the sound of your moans.

At last, Adachi’s hips went still, and his fingers on your clit halted, pulling away and wiping the sticky slick coating them onto your thigh. You panted heavily, eyelids fluttering as you strove to keep them open, and you heard Adachi panting as well. There was a pause where neither of you said anything, bent only on the afterglow and regaining your breath.

“Well, what do you say?” Adachi asked expectantly. “C’mon, speak up. I’m sure even a dumb bitch like you can remember.” Though his words were cruel, his tone had mellowed, sounding more exhausted than harsh or demanding.

“T-thank you, Tohru. Thank you for fucking me… a-and for letting me cum,” you mumbled. Your face had cooled while you recovered, but with those words it was on fire all over again.

Satisfied, Adachi pulled out, and his cum leaked down your thighs in the absence of his cock. He stepped away, and you remained bent over his bed, until finally you thought yourself steady enough to stand straight. You turned to look for your clothes - including those you had discarded before Adachi had arrived back - but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Oh, don’t bother getting dressed, baby. You’re not going anywhere,” he informed you, giving you a light push so that you tumbled back onto his bed.

“B-but I thought— don’t you want me to leave?” you asked in confusion. More often than not, when Adachi was in that sort of mood, he wanted you gone afterwards.

“Not after your little stunt,” he said, shucking off his jacket and hanging it up, before taking off his tie and dress shirt, folding them surprisingly neatly in a stack. “You’re going to stay over and make it up to me again in the morning before work,” Adachi decided, coming back to the bed.

“You didn’t think just that was enough, did you?”

[seafleece]

“I have feelings for Figueroth— Fig. Your friend. Your best friend. Mine too, transitively. Romantic ones. What do you think about that?”

It takes a second. It always does, when she gets like this. Garthy says that she always says the things she needs to, that’s not the problem, just that they end up in a different order than people are expecting. 

(A different order, like being the mother of your friend, and then being looked after by them. She wonders how that Ayda managed, how she’s supposed to ever navigate the feelings that the version of her that came before felt for this person, how they’re the same and how they aren’t. Then, she remembers writing the contract.

She started writing it on Leviathan, is the part she won’t tell Fig. The no inferences part— that had been the first thing. She wasn’t sure what exactly it was she would be telling Fig, just that it was something that needed to exist outside of herself. 

There was a girl who used to come to the library— she had long hair, dark and silky, and she kept needing the books Ayda was reading. We can read them together, she’d said, and that wasn’t how Ayda understood books to be, but something about the funny color in that girl’s eyes made her want to say yes.

She’d felt this roaring thing in her chest all at once when they’d both reached to turn the page at once and their fingers had brushed. Her hand was so cold it hurt to touch, but she found herself wanting to feel it again. She’d never felt that before, wanting to lean towards pain. It was strange, anomalous, she knew; she drew her hand back and let the girl turn the page. Her eyes tracked all over the next words, and didn’t take in a single one.

It occurred later that she might have hurt that girl, as well. That it might have been the reason she didn’t come back to the library again, or perhaps that she found another girl to read with, maybe one who understood the idea of reading together— she still doesn’t, you see. Or maybe she died. It was a pirate island.

(She’d had to read the whole book again— nothing had permeated beyond that feeling. A previous Ayda would have called the venture a waste.)

She’d never gotten to ask about the roaring. The sound it made, in her ears— blood, probably, or fire, or both, a previous Ayda said her body didn’t much differentiate between the two— is just like the feedback of Fig’s bass when she casts something. That's how she decides that she’ll tell her, because the thrum of the note Fig plays passes through her like the chill of another’s cold hand, and when it’s over she realizes it’s the same sound as in her head. It means something, she’s sure. She wants it so badly to mean something. She needs it to exist so badly she wishes she was a conjurer, just for a moment.)

It takes a moment. She waits.

“Well,” Adaine says, and schools her eyebrows back to a more reasonable level above her eyes, “at least you’re not a middle-aged man.”

“No, I am not,” she says. “Should I be? I do not want to be. Is that what she wants?”

“No, no,” Adaine waves her hand through the air almost desperately. “It was a joke.” Adaine Abernant is a kind soul— she looks at her after a moment, earnest and open, not like the Elven Oracle or even the Oracle for all of Spyre, but like a friend. “I don’t think she’s really thought about what she wants, but I hope when she does she finds out it’s you. You’re a good person to want.”

“Oh.”

She bursts into tears, of course.

“And you’re made of fire, too! Fig likes fire.”

“Yes.” She presses the back of her hand to her cheek. “That is very fortunate.”

(Fig’s hand slips into hers and squeezes, and she starts crying again. There's something to be said for reveling in a difference of temperature, but Fig isn’t cold, in the lattice of their fingers, and the relief she feels at it surprises her, both in presence and intensity.

“Huh,” Fig says. She’s close to unconsciousness— Fig hasn’t said anything about it, but she thinks they are entering the phase of the sleepover where the actual sleep is done.

“What is it?”

“I’ve never— your hand isn’t colder than mine. People’s always are.”

Her heart beats a rising tattoo against her ribs. “Is that bad?”

Fig smiles. Her head falls further against the pillow. “No, it’s— really nice, actually. One of those things you don’t even know you like, or want, until you have it, you know?”

“Yes,” she whispers, and feels hope building in her in this quiet sort of frenzy. “I do know.”)

—

“Do you know about the double bass?”

“Like, the instrument?”

“Yes.”

“Uh, yeah— I think they have a few at Aguefort, in the music department.”

Ayda rolls over to look at her. “I’m sorry.”

Their conversations are like this a lot— Ayda starts from the outside, sometimes. The things she says seem to exist entirely apart from another, and it’s not until Fig responds a few times that she starts to see where they spiral inward, towards something of more singular intention. In her mind’s eye, she starts to wind a thread between them. “For what?”

“You apologized for scrying on me, in the forest.”

There are too many things to envision, in that moment. Ayda, seeing the moment the marilith split from her. Confusing them. Ayda reaching out, in her mind, and finding Fig reaching back, and being afraid. Like looking into a mirror, and finding another reflected in its surface, over and over again, an unending volley of fear and confusion. She tries— she refuses, in that moment, to be lost to it. They’d wished for the same thing, believed the same thing. She chooses to believe it now, to trust.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Did you know there is copper? In your earrings?”

She blinks. Another point to wind the thread around. “No.”

“There were a lot of spells I tried to cast, while I was in the gallery. Divination spells are— well, they’re easier for me. And for detect thoughts, all you need is—”

“Copper.”

“Yes. I did not think it would work, but maybe it’s that you were reaching out to me, and that it was the last thing I tried to cast before you freed me.”

“So, you, uh—” She reaches up, suddenly shy, to scratch at her neck. Tries not to avert her eyes, and fails. “What’d you hear?”

“It’s—” Ayda’s hair flares a bit brighter, in the way she’s learned to read as embarrassment. “Fig, I believe you when you say you want to kiss me. Especially because, you know, you usually do after you say it. I just— I had never heard it like that. People think different things than they say, and it’s terrifying to think about, because I cannot— it’s already so hard to tell, when people talk to me. I don’t particularly like that spell, I don’t think I will use it again unless I have to, especially because Adaine gave me a much better one, but knowing you were thinking the same things that you say, the same things that you do, it is. Hard to explain, how it made me feel.”

She hazards a guess. “Incredible?”

“Yes,” Ayda says, immediately. “Incredible. Cool. Tight.”

She leans forward to kiss her— never sparing in intensity. Fig was never a religious kid— watching Kristen go through her whole thing sort of gave her the experience in miniature, and she hasn’t even begun to broach the idea that an archdevil is something people could believe in, that Hell is a metaphysical thing as much as a place. But, she thinks, as best as she knows, that Ayda kisses like prayer. Fervent, quiet, focused. All the things she believes, and hopes, brought to the forefront.

Her hands curl in Fig’s shirt and loosen again, and Fig wraps her fingers lazily along the curve of Ayda’s neck.

“What about the double bass?”

“Oh,” Ayda says, “Yes. I think it was something from earlier, from when you were— in the forest, but you said something about bass, and solos.”

Her throat closes a bit. The thread winds. “Right.”

“Every time you play at a concert venue, there are more people in the room than I have ever met in my life. All in the same place, for you. I do not know how much help it is— to hear it from me, that is, even if we are paramours— but I think the bass is a very good solo instrument.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know how to describe it— it sounds like, like something inside of me. it sounds like how I feel.”

It’s hard to keep hold of the thread, when Ayda says things like that. “God, uh, okay. Cool.”

“Yes.” Ayda nods, head shifting along the pillow. “Cool. Tight.”

“So,” and she reminds herself that a spiral circles itself, to reach the center. “The double bass.”

“The double bass,” Ayda says, voice shifting into the flat, confident tone of Research Ayda, conveying information diligently collected. “Is like another version of the bass guitar— the predecessor, actually. It's used in orchestral settings, and sometimes jazz. It’s much larger, and has a different tone, but is tuned the same way. It would not be so difficult, to switch between them, though it seems that bow technique can take a long time to learn, and there are different styles of even holding it— the Fallinel bow style is the more widely accepted version, though I suppose that is reason enough not to use it—”

“You think I should play the double bass instead?”

“Oh,” Ayda says. “I see. I have led you to a misconception. I think you should do exactly what you want, Fig. I just— I wanted to find solos, for the bass, for you. Or, at least, proof that people want to hear them, enough to write them. People that aren’t just me.”

And just like that, the thread reaches the center. Fig smiles, and ties it off, crowds a little further into Ayda’s space so her wing reflexively curls out and across her. “You know what’s funny?”

“What is funny?”

“The thing that got me to leave the van so Aelwyn could escape, it was hearing you were upset. Because those stupid Kei Lumennura kids told you I, uh, I got around, because I was a rock star, or whatever.”

“Oh,” Ayda blinks. “That seems plausible, actually, I did not fully understand what it meant. If I heard that you were with other people, a lot, before I finished drafting up the contract, I think it would have upset me quite a bit.”

“It’s not a tour,” Fig says, “things need to settle down, but if you want to watch me practice, when we get home or even today, I think that would be cool.”

“This is not something you would normally do?”

“No, I always— I learned how to play by myself, in my room, because I didn’t want to see anyone and things were getting— bad, all around me. Even when I practice with Gorgug and everyone, it’s after I finish writing the songs, after I know I can play them.”

“I see.”

“Practicing takes a long time, it’s not as fun, and it kinda hurts, sometimes. But it’s real. Most of music is learning how to do it, performing is just— like a celebration, of all the work. I never really wanted someone to see that part, before, but if you want to, I think I want that.”

Then, they have to take a minute to smother the pillow where it’s caught fire— or rather, Fig does, and Ayda stands and tries to stop her tears from falling on anything else flammable.

“I think—“ Ayda says, thumbing under her eyes and coming away with only sparks. “I think I would like that. I think it would be incredible.”

“Great,” and Fig pulls her down onto the mattress, now pillow-less and covered only with those fancy Kei Lumennura sheets Fabian swears can’t catch fire. Really, they should’ve only had those the whole time. “Cool.”

“Tight,” Ayda supplies, and kisses her again.

[jimimn]

HI ITS ME WHO'S NOT OVER JJK BLONDE SELFIE AND WILL NEVER BE -💫

HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO <33333333

HONESTLY ITS THE WAY YOH SAY SUCH NICE THINGS AND I DISAPPEAR FOR DAYS ON END BECAUSE INCONSISTENCY BLEEDS INTO EVERY CORNER OF MY LIFE FNEKALKD BUT I'M GETTING DONE WITH MY FIRST LEG OF EXAMS ON MONDAY SO YAY TO THAT!! OKAY I THINK WE'LL MOVE SLOWLY WITH BABY STEPS JUNGKOOK DROPPED SOME SELCAS JIMIN DROPPED SOME SELCAS IN THE WORDS OF THE LEGENDARY JEON JUNGKOOK ALL WE NEED NOW IS "together..BAM!" (THAT'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE MOMENTS EVER THE WAY HE SAYS IT 🤧)

YES IN THIS HOUSE WE SCREAM OVER JIMIN'S DISRESPECT HE IS THE PARAGON OF A MULTI-FACETED MAN THAT HAS US WRAPPED AROUND HIS FINGER. THE AUDACITY 😤

CHANEL X JIMIN LETS MAKE IT HAPPEN AND OMG THAT SELFIE THAT DROPPED?? SIR???? WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?? I MEAN YES BH SAID LET'S DROP SELFIES IN BULK BUT THAT ONE PICTURE OF HIM IN BLACK(GREY? I DONT KNOW FHSKKAJF) WITH THE SHIRTS UNBUTTONED!!! THEM COLLARBONES ARE FREE AND THEY'RE THRIVING IN THE OPEN IN THAT ONE. ALSO HIS LIPS ARE SO PRETTY. OH GOD LITERALLY HE HAS THAT COCKY SMIRK ON HIS FACE WHEN HE KNOWS HE DOES HOT BOY SHIT LIKE SHUT UP OK YOU CANT DO THAT JAIL FOR U NDNSLSKAJJW

SUCH A FUCKING TEASE THATS RIGHT!! EVEN STRAIGHT MEN?? BRO LIKE HOW DO YOU HAVE ALL GENDERS JUST TRIPPING OVER THEMSELVES FOR YOU IT'S INSANE AND OMG MISS SHIVI HAVE YOU SEEN THAT ONE CLIP IN WHICH JIMIN HOLDS HIS GAZE WITH THESE MEN WHO LOOK AT HIM (i think it was bon voyage?) and when they cross each other he JUST SMIRKS AND RUNS HIS HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR LIKE YEAH OK ALEXA PLAY I'M SEXY AND I KNOW IT. AND YES I'LL LISTEN TO EVERYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY ANYTIME 💗💗

12PM KST IS THE HOLY HOUR I TELL YOU ALTHOUGH I REMEMBER WAITING THE NIGHT BEFORE BE CAME OUT WAITING FOR SOMETHING TO COME AND BH WAS JUST LIKE "yea...no" OMG THAT'S AWESOME YOUR COUSIN'S VISITING YOU

HHFJDOSO YEAH IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE THEY DID THE JUMP ALTHOUGHHHH I'M POSITIVE THEY'LL DO SMTH COOL LIKE THAT IN THEIR CONCERTS BECAUSE THEIR PERFORMANCE QUALITY IS JUST.. THROUGH THE ROOF IT'S CRAZY!! WHEN THE PERFORM WINGS?? LIKE HOLY SHIT NO CHOREO NO POSITIONS JUST BTS RUNNING AROUND THE STAGE MAKING THE CROWD GO FERAL I LOVE EVERY WINGS PERFORMANCE SO MUCH MY SEROTONIN LEVELS ARE ALWAYS AT A HIGH THEN. OOHH MY GODDD BS&T IS REALLY THAT BITCH!!!! WHO'S DOING IT LIKE HER TODAY NO ONE IS EXACTLY. AND NOOOO I TOTALLY GET IT WE THINK ON THE SAME WAVELENGTH THAT ACCIDENT HAS THE SAME EFFECT ON ME. IF ONLY YOU'D TOLD ME THEN IN 2016 THAT THAT ACCIDENT WAS THE START OF SO MANY I'D BE PREPARED FOR EVERYTHING THAT FOLLOWED (see: him basically stripping himself that one serendipity performance. holy shit.)

FOR REAL THO CHRISTMAS LOVE DROPPED OUT OF NOWHERE AND DO YOU REMEMBER JIMIN SAYINF uUH iM nOt wORkInG oN a SoLo SoNg aT ThE mOmEnT heHe LIKE ALL MEN DO IS LIE OK AT THIS POINT. BYE. YES TAEHYUNG DID WARN US BUT ARMYS (LIKE MYSELF) PUT THEIR CLOWN WIGS ON AND THOUGHT IT WAS KTH1 LMAO. OMG I HOPE YOU DON'T SLEEP THROUGH ANY OF THEIR UPCOMING SONG RELEASES BUT I'M SURE IT'S THE BEST FEELING TO WAKE UP TO CHECK YOUR NOTIFS AND SEE "Big Hit Labels" BECAUSE THAT'S HOW YOU KNOW IT'S GOING TO BE FIREEE. DUDE SERIOUSLY I NEED JIMIN TO GO LIVE AGAIN (although we've been well fed by namjoon for now🤧😌💗) LIKE THAT ONE YT LIVE WHERE HE SAID "O...M...G" SHUT UP STOP BEING SO CUTE I'M DHJSWLIFJWKALS

LMAO OKAY YEAH THAT'S VALID YOUR BLOG THEME IS BASICALLY ✨jimin✨ AND I LOVE THAT IT REALLY GRAVITATED ME AND YOUR URL OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD YOUR BRAINNN 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

YES YES YES JIMIN IS SO PERFECT AND THE SOCK DOODLESSS 😭😭😭 oooo so when did you get into giffing? how did you start? BROOOOO YOUR URL'S ORIGIN STORY. I LOVE IT WOW YES IT'S DEFINITELY GOT THE REQUIRED ✨pazzaz✨

NOOO OMG THIS URL IS YOUR BRAND LIKE YOU'RE A LEGEND ON ARMYBLR I LOVE IT SO MUCH. BUT STILL!! IT'S YOUR CHOICE AT THE END 💖

OMG QUARANTINE DID IT'S ONE GOOD JOB AND GOT YOU INTO BANGTAN YAY. OMG YOU AND MISS LIFEGOESMON ARE FRIENDSS??? LEGENDS INTERACTING THIS IS SO COOL. LMAO THE PARADIGM SHIFT YOU MUST'VE FELT FROM LISTENING TO STAY GOLD (WHICH BTW THE MV...THE LITERAL CUTEST OH GOD THE LITTLE DOG AND JIMIN'S LITTLE SMILES DHSJAOWO) TO THEN GOING TO BST IN WHICH JIMIN IS BASICALLY STRIPPING AND JUNGKOOK IS UPSIDE DOWN LMAOOO. YES BS&T HAS EVERYONE HOOKED THE POWERRRR. YOU FALLING DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE WITH YOUR FRIEND'S ASSISTANCE OH GOD THIS IS SO CUTE 💓 EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM 🥺🥺🥺

AAAAH OKAY MY STORY ISN'T AS INTERESTING AS YOURS IS BUT IN 2016 BASICALLY ALL I KNEW OF KPOP WAS GANGNAM STYLE AND WASNT WILLING TO CUANGE THAT PERCEPTION (FOOL BEHAVIOUR I TELL YOU) AND WAS TOO BUSY OBSESSING OVER ONE DIRECTION'S REUNION AND SO ONE NIGHT (THE NIGHT BEFORE JIMIN'S BIRTHDAY 🤧🤧) I JUST STUMBLED UPON THEIR BS&T TEARS MV AND I HEARD IT AND I WAS LIKE OMG!! THIS IS THAT SUPER ADDICTIVE SONG THAT I'D HEARD SOMEWHERE AND IT JUST SPIRALLED FROM THERE I REMEMBER SEEING JIMIN AND BEING LIKE 👀👀👀👀 WHO IS HE I LIKE HIM AND JUST HIS AURA DREW ME IN SOOO MUCH AND WHEN I WAS GETTING INTO THEM I REMEMBER WRITING THEIR NAMES IN MY NOTES TO SEE IF I COULD REMEMBER 🤧 AND I STILL HAVE THAT NOTE FROM 4+ YEARS AGO 💓 AND YEAH BASICALLY SEEING THEM DO ALL THE MUSIC SHOWS AND STUFF AT THE TIME WAS SO COOOL AND MIND YOU BH DIDN'T HAVE SUBS FOR BANGTAN BOMBS THEN SO WENT ON THESE SKETCHY DAILYMOTION TYPE SITES LOOKING FOR ALL THE CONTENT I COULD CHURN OUT LMAO

AND YES!! COURTESY OF YOU I DID WATCH SOME RUN EPS!! I WATCHED THEIR CANADA ONES SPEAKING OF WHICH I LOOOVE THAT PART WHERE THEY'RE DOING THAT SONG GUESSING THING IN THE MORNING AND JIMIN SAYS "are you cold?" 🥺🥺 TO TAE AND HUGS HIM URRHRHEHSJSJSH AND I ALSO SAW THE ONES WITH THE PUPPIES GODDDDD I LOVE THE PUPPIES ONE SO MUCH LITERALLY JUNGKOOK AND HIS DOG (MIRI?) OH MY GOD THAT LIL FLUFFER AND ADAM IS MY ICON WITH HOW HE JUST DID HIS OWN THING LMAO.

BUT ANYWAY!! DO YOU HAVE A FAVE ERA?? LIKE DO YOU EVER LOOK AT THEM AND GO "Damn I wish I was a fan then" BECAUSE HONESTLY I WISH I HAD STANNED THEM IN THEIR DOPE ERA BUT I DON'T THINK I WOULD HAVE SURVIVED JIMIN THEN DHKSOWID-💫

FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!!!!!!! ITS OKAY!!!!!!!! I TOTALLY TOTALLY UNDERSTAND!!!!! AND YAYYYYY CONGRATS I HOPE THE FIRST LEG OF EXAMS WENT WELL <333333 AND OH MY GOD you’re gonna make me cry with the together baam goddddddd same one of my fave moments and jimin’s giggles after that 😭😭😭😭 my babies <3 :((((

that..... black suit selca....... that opened button...... like open one more dear sir who’s stopping you... just do it <33333 YEAH he totally needs to shut up with his i know im hot side it just kills me every single time 😭😭😭😭😭

LISTEN THAT BV3 MOMENT  S H O O K  ME OKAY????? THOSE GUYS LOOKED AT HIM AND HE WAS SO FUCKING SMUG ABOUT IT (AND HE SHOULD BE) AND THE WAY HE LICKED HIS LIPS AND RAN HIS HANDS THROUGH HIS HAIR????? LIKE HE KNOWS HE HAS EVERY SINGLE PERSON; NO MATTER WHAT GENDER; WRAPPED AROUND HIS LIL PINKY LIKE THAT???????

OH MY GOD ME TOO I LOVEEEEEEEEEEE THE WINGS STAGE AND WATCHING THEM HAVE SO MUCH FUN IS JUST SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND I ALSO ABSOLUTELY LOVVVEEE THEIR ENERGY DURING THE SY TOUR MEDLEY WITH IDOL AND BAEPSAE AND FIRE AND DOPE ZSXDFGFCHGVJBHJN THEY JUST LOSE THEMSELVES IN THE CROWD AND THE MUSIC AND ITS JUST SO FUCKING SURREAL TO WATCH HOW MUCH THEY ENJOY DOING WHAT THEY DO!!!!! kinda makes me want to find that happiness and passion in whatever i do in my professional life <3 and LISTEN jimin said the break the soul commentary THAT HE COULD DO SERENDIPITY SHIRTLESS TOO. THE AUDACITY. HE SAID THAT WITH HIS WHOLE CHEST. 

YOU KNWO WHAT I THINK JIMIN WON’T GIVE US A HINT BEFORE DROPPING PJM1. HE’LL JUST DROP IT ONE FINE DAY OUT OF NOWHERE LIKE HE DROPPED PROMISE AND CHRISTMAS LOVE (i wasn’t here when he dropped promise but i read that on twitter sdfghjkl) AND NO PLS NO I DO N O T WANT TO SLEEP THROUGH JJK1 OR KTH1 OR PJM1 OR KSJ1 OR NAMGI MIXTAPE 3 OR HOBI MIXTAPE 2 OR ANYTHING BASICALLY YOU GET IT i had slept through dynamite cb because i had NO CLUE that they were gonna drop it at 1pm kst rather than 12 am kst. i was under the impression that since they dropped all the teaser pictures and the teaser itself as 12 am kst, the mv will drop at 12 am kst too. and I woke up like two hours after the mv dropped (which was almost noon my time) and i felt like A FUCKING FOOL AND I JUST 😭😭😭😭 NEVER WANT TO FEEL LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN 😭😭😭 

AND YES BABIE NEEDS TO COME LIVE SOON PLS I MISS HIM SO FUCKING MUCH :((((( AND HIS O...M.....G HAD MADE ME FUCKING SOBBBBBBBBBBB his yt live god he looked sooooooo fluffy with his hair and his tiny hands and his puppy eyes and soft voice im just so 😭😭😭😭😭😭

NO NONNONONONO PLEASE IM NO LEGEND DON’T SAY THAT IM EMBARRASSED im just a normal fangirl who makes okayish gifs 😭😭 and ok yes so i started giffing LONNNGGGGGG time back on a different public fan forum from my country but i never knew the right process and stuff so obviously the gifs were shitty lmao BUT ANYWAY i got into gifmaking PROPERLY this in july last year and obviously struggled a lot in the beginning because i didn’t know shit about colouring and stuff lmao but i kept practicing and even though im not perfect rn i do think that i got better. i love giffing tho. its such a nice creative outlet and whenever i gif the boys it brings me so much happiness :( <33

AND YES ASDFGHJKL ME AND HER ARE FRIENDS SINCE A VERY LONG TIME SDFGHJK LIKE LONG BEFORE BOTH OF US GOT INTO BTS SDFGHJ and ah yes the whiplash lmaooooooo and you’re right god the stay gold mv is SO FUCKING PRETTY THE COLOURS IN THAT ENTIRE MV HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AND JIMIN AND TAE AND JOON WITH THE DOGGO JUST EVERYTHING SDFGHJK <3333333 AND BS&T DUDE I GIFFED THE MV YESTERDAY AND IM 💀💀💀💀💀 (like i just giffed jimin from the mv but i did watch the whole thing 5647589 times <333333) AND GUESS WHAT!!!!!! I WAS A LILLY SINGH FAN (IDK IF YOU KNOW HER SHE’S A YOUTUBER) BACK IN 2016 AND PEOPLE BACK THEN HAD REQUESTED HER TO REACT TO BS&T MV AND I HAD WATCHED HER REACTION VIDEO AND (although it didn’t stick with me back then because i was a fucking fool) I DID SOMEHOW REMEMBERED THE JIN AND STATUE KISSING MOMENT AND WHEN IN 2020 I SAW THE MV AND SAW THE KISSING MOMENT MY BRAIN JUST!!!!!!!!!!! I WAS LIKE HOLY SHIT I HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE SOMEWHERE AND THEN I REMEMBERED I HAD SEEN THIS IN THE REACTION VIDEO LMAOOOOO i wish i hadn’t been a fool and gotten into them back then :((((

AH NO OMG YOUR STORY IS SOOOOOOO CUTEEEEEEEEEE ATLEAST YOU WEREN’T A FOOL LIKE ME TO NOT GET ATTRACTED TO BS&T THE FIRST TIME OF SEEING IT!!!! I WANNA HIT MY 2016 SELF LIKE DAMN YOU YOU FOOLISH ASSHOLE AND yes omg how did y’all do the subs thing damnnnnn i can’t imagine

AND YES THE CANADA RUN EPIS ARE LOOOVVVEEEE and that vmin moment plsssssss i cry everytime 😭😭😭😭😭 it is just so soft and innocent and tae’s little smile after jimin just turns around and hugs him 😔😔😔😔 i love soulmates 😔😔😔😔 AND MIRI YES OMG EVERYONE WAS SO IMPRESSED BY THE LITTLE CUTIE AND THE WAY JUNGKOOK JUST KEPT ADORING HER THROUGHOUT MADE ME SO SO SOFTTTT and bro adam is me. i am like that. lazy and un-motivated AF. although if i were a dog and jin were to be my owner i would listen to him so well and jump on him every chance i’d get 😌😌😌

GOD YES RED HAIR DOPE ERA JIMIN 💀 BABIE BUT MAKE IT SEXY 🥵🥵 AND OMG YESDGFHG MY FAVE ERA IS HYYH. ORANGE HAIRED JIMIN. PLS. HE’S EVERYTHING. I WISH I HAD GOTTEN INTO THEM DURING THAT. LIKE THAT ERA IS ..... SOMEHOW SO FUCKING WILD AND STILL SO ASSURING AND CALMING ????? KEEPS ME ROOTED LIKE IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN DFGHJKL AND WINGS TOO DAMN I WISH I WAS HERE TO LIVE ALL THOSE AMAZING ERAS. but even though i wish i had gotten into them earlier... i think i found them when i needed them the most. I was going through a very difficult time last year and they somehow they made me feel so fucking safe and at home that the connection was instant. honestly i’ve never stanned or felt a connection with any celebrity as strong as the one i feel with bangtan. its like... they don’t know i exist but they still know EXACTLY what im feeling and what to say or do at that time to make me feel comforted. Its weird god but its true :((( SORRY I GOT EMO I JUST LOVE THEM A LOT SDFGHJKL

[daisiesforlacey]

clouds - chapter 2 : cirrus

Pair: Julie x alive!Luke

Summary: After her mother’s death, Julie Molina moved away from Hollywood, across the country, to Ithaca, New York. She’s left behind her two loves in life: her best friend, Luke, and her music. There, she finds new friends and enemies, new experiences and joys, she might even find herself. Every night, Luke calls Julie to talk about the clouds. But what if Luke is hiding something? 

Word Count: 3,344

Warnings: angsty??? I mean we gotta move the story along soooo

Note: I started writing this and it got away from me! I think this series might be longer than originally intended, but that’s not a bad thing. I can’t wait to delve more into Alex, Reggie, and Carrie’s storylines, but for now, here’s this! Please please comment, like, reblog; feedback is always appreciated :)))

Masterlist

Taglist

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The morning had been much chillier than the previous day. On their way to school, Julie and Flynn had bundled up in their favorite sweaters and scarves, along with matching thermoses of tea. Julie had tried to stuff her hair into a wool hat, but after failing miserably, she settled on tying her hair back into a ponytail. Flynn had offered to help style her curls that morning, but she had declined.

The ground next to the sidewalk was blue with frost and they could almost see their breath if they squinted hard enough. 

In Ithaca, the winter was dryer, she had found that her lips chapped more often and she seemed to constantly have the sniffles. In L.A, when it got colder, it mostly rained, snow was far and few between and was never terribly enjoyable; the second it hit the ground it would become this sort of grey sludge. One thing they both shared was the unpredictability. Seeing the sun one day did not often guarantee a warm week, which left Julie to keep an array of coats of different thicknesses. 

There weren’t too many clouds to see, if she tried hard enough, she might be able to make out a flying saucer. She shook her head, spaceships were too easy and basic; anything could be a UFO. 

As they walked and the sun slowly rose, they talked about their upcoming day; if Carrie was going to be tolerable, if they would be getting new music projects, and who was buying lunch.

Luckily for Julie, she could already feel the air warm up, unfortunately, the conversion had shifted to Luke.

“How is your friend? Liam, or whatever?” Flynn asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Luke,” Julie snorted and looked down at her hands, “He’s doing well, he didn’t see too many shapes yesterday, so our conversation was relatively short.” Flynn knew about their nightly calls, but Julie had left out most of the reason they happened. Flynn didn’t need to know how much she missed her friend, she didn’t want the other girl to feel inadequate. 

“It’s really cool that you guys still keep in touch, if all of my friendships drifted apart that nicely, Carrie…” Flynn drifted off into thought at the mention of Carrie. Contemplating Julie, frowned, she didn’t particularly like to think that she and Luke had drifted, but she supposed they had literally done just that. 

“Well when you have a history like Luke and I have, it’s impossible not to talk to him.” Julie didn’t mention that he seemed to be a part of her that was now missing, or that Luke had this sort of magnetism that drew anyone and everyone to him, or that when they wrote songs together she had felt more alive and seen than anything. 

Those things didn’t need saying, those things had been left in L.A. 

But in here she had Flynn and a small town and a family. 

A broken family, she thought. 

---

As Nick finished his guitar solo, his lacrosse buddies whooped and hollered in the small music room. 

It was smaller than the one back home, but just as welcoming. Cinder block walls had been covered with sound absorbers and music posters ranging from “hang in there” cats to major and minor scales to student made flyers, advertising the school dance coming up. 

Their mascot, a yellow and black cougar, had been painted on the wall by an art club some time ago. It was slightly lopsided and its snarling mouth looked more mangled, but the sentiment was there. 

Julie had zoned out long before Nick had started, staring at the chipped paint on the wall. She knew the second she walked up to the piano to play, she would freeze. No amount of mental preparation could prepare her to set her fingers on the ivory keys and play something, anything. 

“Okay, we have one last performance,” Her teacher said, “Julie.” 

The girl looked up slowly. She stumbled toward the piano with hesitant steps. She sat down with a sigh and opened the sheet music. Her blood was rushing and her head was pounding. The room seemed to blur and spin, but was also eerily still and quiet. 

She could feel the eyes of her classmates boring into her skull. As they watched her, she could guess what they were thinking, here we go again, I wonder if she’ll actually play this time, just get on with it. 

Julie knew that Flynn was trying to encourage her, even from where she was sitting, but she  couldn’t bring herself to look at the girl.

“Take your time,” Her teacher assured. 

Julie might take forever. 

She opened the case of the piano and grazed her fingertips on the keys. They were cold and unforbidding. The second she pressed one of the keys she knew that she would break.

Memories of her mother would come rushing back; every scraped knee, every hand holding in the parking lot, every crush whispered in secret, every night spent over the stove learning what spice goes in when, every uncontrollable fit of laughter. 

She would remember every Christmas and Easter that they would break out her Abuela’s Arroz Con Leche recipe, every concert they went to where they would scream lyrics until their throats were raw. 

Every failed test that her mother had stayed up late to help her study for, every flu shot where her mother still held her hand, no matter how old she got.

Every note written or melody sung would fill her mind. She didn’t know what would happen when it did, and she desperately didn’t want to find out. 

She stood up, “I’m sorry.”

Julie thought she heard Carrie say some snarky remark and that Flynn had retaliated, but she couldn’t have been sure before she was rushing out the door. 

After the school day, Flynn and her walked home as quickly as they could, sometimes sprinting. They needed to beat Julie’s father home after he picked up her brother, Carlos, up from his own school. She was praying that he hadn’t heard the news that she was out of the music program yet. 

She groaned as she saw his car already in the driveway

Flynn quickly hugged her, “It’s fine, he’ll understand.” She withdrew from the hug and held Julie at arms length with a sympathetic smile before they had to part. Flynn waved as she unlocked her front door and stepped inside. 

Julie took a sharp breath in before doing the same.

---

“So is ‘Clocks move faster / cause it’s all were after’ the first pre-chorus or the second pre-chorus?” Reggie ran his fingers through his hair, his nose scrunching, “Because wouldn’t it just make more sense to have the same pre-chorus on each verse?” 

The brunet’s bass was slung over his body as he rested his hands on the body of his guitar. He looked over to Luke, who was crouched over his lyrics. 

Luke shook his head , his air already dripping with sweat, “It’s the second pre-chorus, the first is ‘Clocks move forward / but we don’t get older.’” He semi, sang, strumming along on his guitar. “Changing it up adds movement, we don’t want to bore the listeners. It keeps the theme of staying young at heart.” 

Reggie nodded and plucked at his bass, testing out different rhythms. Moving his hands up the neck and over the strings, he finally settled on some semblance of a tune, repeating it over and over again. 

Alex joined him, adding a hit on each of the beats of the song. This gave the song a drive and pounding rhythm, working with Luke’s line of ‘Electric hammer to the heart.”

Luke stood up after scribbling something and added his guitar part over it, humming along with the melody, and soon they got well into the song, improvising along the way. There were still some wrong chords and off beats, but they had the bones of what they felt like would be a hit. 

Luke had gone from humming to singing, Reggie and Alex joining in. Luke felt his pulse quicken as he grinned. 

“‘We ain’t searchin’ for tomorrow’,” Alex sang, to which Reggie echoed, “‘Cause got all we need today’.”

Luke bopped along, “‘Living on a feeling that’s been running through our veins.”

They looked back and forth to each other, knowing what was coming next.

Reggie was supposed to have a line to end the bridge, but it hadn’t been written yet. Luke had spent hours trying to come up with something, but it just didn’t click, every line he wrote either changed the meaning of the song or was too clumsy.

Luke sighed as they all stopped playing and he cast an apologetic gaze to the bassist, “I’ll get it. I promise.”

The boy in the flannel just shook his head, “No worries bro, we’ve done a lot in,” He checked the clock on the wall and his eyes widened comically. “Five hours…”

This mock practice session had started in Alex’s garage right after school after Luke had presented them with a song at lunch. 

“It’s totally us,” He had said, sliding to the table with a lunch tray and a scribbled mess of paper, beaming, “Totally mid 90’s. And look, you-,” He pointed to Alex who looked excited but skeptical, “Can start the bridge and you-,” Luke turned his attention to Reggie, “Can echo, ending with…” 

Luke trailed off, he didn’t have an ending line yet, he knew it had to be perfect. Everyone knows you can’t end a bridge without a call to action, something that stirred and emotion so deep that you couldn’t help but sing along. 

He sighed as his mouth twisted, “I don’t know, I haven’t found the perfect line yet.” He looked down at his chicken scratch, then slid the paper across to Alex, who examined it. 

“I like it, have you decided where the harmonies should go yet, or nah?” Alex flipped his blond  hair back, after adjusting it in his snapback. He was already trying to decide what type of beats he would do, where the drum fills would be, and what he should consult Reggie on. 

The makeshift band had a process: Luke would write a basic lyric and chord progression and then he would bring it to the guys. From there Alex would come up with the heartbeat of the song with Reggie. Reggie would work with Luke to see what melodies he should be playing and how he and Luke would bounce off of each other.

When they came together, the three friends would look at who sang what, harmonies, and fill in the gaps in the music. They worked like a well oiled machine

But lunch had been 7 hours ago and it was now 8 o’clock, well past when Luke should have been home. The boy jumped as he looked outside, saw it was dark, and cursed under his breath. He quickly put his guitar on his stand and grabbed his book bag, then ran out with a wave to Reggie and Alex.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, if I’m still alive,” he called before getting on his bike and going home. 

The air was damp and it had just rained, making the pavement slippery. Despite being almost winter, the weather was warm enough to where he only had to put on a shirt and jeans to be comfortable.

On his way to his house, Luke looked to the sky. He cataloged some shapes of dark clouds, moose, cat, spaceship, he thought. He chucked to himself, anything could be a space ship, it wasn’t creative enough, all the cloud had to be was somewhat circular. 

His mind drifted to Julie and what she would have to say about these clouds. She would probably smile, her adorable gap showing, and tell him all of the wonderful odd shapes she would see. 

“There, right there, a cat chasing a dog,” She would say, “No, no, scratch that, a dog chasing a cat chasing a pigeon. Wait sorry, a shark without a back fin. Or maybe a line of ducklings crossing a street.” Then she would narrow her eyes as the clouds shifted and formed new images, “Well now I don’t know what I see.” 

Luke would then look over and tell her that everything she saw was amazing, even if it was truly unremarkable. She was always able to see things he couldn’t, even if it was something as menial as a cloud. She could look at him and know exactly what was wrong no matter what; he didn’t know if she was truly super powered, or if he was super transparent. 

Which was why he was glad she couldn’t see him on their calls. 

She knew about Reggie and Alex, they had met before she left, but she didn’t know that they played music together. She didn’t know that Luke was writing songs with them like he used to with her. He didn’t want her to feel replaced.

And as far as she knew, his parents were completely fine with his music. They may have had little gripes here and there, but she thought that was the extent of it. 

As he arrived at his house and opened the front door, that wasn’t the case at all.

“Lucas Patterson!” His mother yelled from the kitchen, “Do you have any idea what time it is!”

Luke winced as she ran into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. He could see that the dining room table had already been cleared and the leftovers put away. 

“It is 8:14! Would you like to tell me why the hell you missed dinner again for the third time this week? No wait! I bet I know! Let me guess, you were at Alex’s!” Her eyes were steel. It wasn’t a question, they both knew the only thing that would keep him out at night would be music with the guys. 

He gripped the strap of his back pack before looking at the floor, his knuckles white. “I’m sorry Mom. I just lost track of time, you know how I get.”

Emily smoothed her brow with her fingers as her husband walked in from the kitchen. “At least tell me you did your homework.” 

Luke didn’t answer.

His mom threw the dish towel to the floor, “Luke we had a deal! You can keep playing your guitar and going to ‘band practice,’” She used air quotes, “As long as you did your homework before then and always made it home for dinner. Always! Your family and school work is important! I know you don’t think so, but as long as you live under our roof, you abide by our rules!”

He threw his hands up and scoffed, “I’m not going to stop playing music, it’s my life! And you can’t stop me! I am sorry if I miss a few family dinners a week, but isn’t that fine if it means I’m happy?” 

His mother looked at him like he had sprouted another head, “Son, I know it’s been hard ever since Julie left, and I know you miss her but--”

“But what Mom? There’s nothing I can do about it, she’s in New York! And the only thing keeping me connected to her is music, and right now, you don’t even let me have that.” Luke stormed through the living room into his room. 

He dropped his bag down with a thunk, and sat on his bed, smashing his head into a pillow and screaming. He regretted that he didn’t bring his guitar back, if only to take out his anger by shredding on volume 10. 

The day kept getting later, and while he didn’t like calling her while angry, he dialed Julie’s phone number. 

The phone rang a couple times before she picked up, “Hello, this is Her Majesty Queen Julie Molina, what is your concern peasant?” She said in a haughty voice, before her façade broke with a giggle.

“Well Your Highness, I have come to discuss today’s weather.” He replied, playing along, her voice instantly making him feel better.

“Today we have seen a couch, a baby, and many many trees.”

“I have also seen many trees; they are very common in the sky.” Luke laughed, “I may have also spotted a suitcase and an umbrella. Sadly my Queen, the rain made it quite hard to see too many shapes.”

Julie clicked her tongue, he could see her face now, her nose scrunched and her mouth down turned, “That is a downright shame. Is there any news to report?’”

Luke perked up at that and rushed to get the words out of his mouth, “Actually, yeah. I wrote a song, ‘Now or Never,’ and it’s actually not that bad. Except I can’t figure out this one line, and it’s been bugging me all day.” He huffed, “Do you wanna hear it?”

She replied just as giddy as he is, “Of course!”

The brunet then launched into singing an a cappella version of his song from memory, stopping here or there to say things such as, “A harmony would totally go here,” or “Add a little guitar riff and it’d be perfect.” 

He kept going until, “‘Living on a feeling that’s been running through our veins’. And then of course another line, and then the chorus.” He was staring at his popcorn ceiling now, smiling like a kid in a candy shop. 

Julie paused, then said, “We’re the revolution that’s been singing in the rain.” 

“What?”

“That’s it, that’s your missing lyric.”

Luke froze, she really couldn’t get any more perfect.

“Queen Julie, you are a genius!” He jumped off of his bed to grab a scrap of paper off of his messy desk before writing down the lyric. “You songwriting genius! If you have stuff like that flowing through your brain, how aren’t you playing it?”

He didn’t mean to bring it up, it just sort of happened. But it was true, how could she be so good at writing and let it go to waste?

Julie cleared her throat, “Well actually--”

“You sang again? I knew it, I knew you would!” Luke cut her off.

“Well no,” She rushed out, he could already see her running her hand over her face in exasperation. He has to stop interrupting people. “I got kicked out of the music program. I haven’t played anything since I got here, and I couldn't either today. I guess that was the last straw, because my teacher called my dad and said that unless I could play something by the end of the week, I need to choose a new elective.”

They sat in silence. 

Luke played with his hands, knitting his fingers together and pulling them apart before an idea came to him, “What about your mom’s song. Not for class I mean! But, if just to sit down at your piano again and play something, what about that? She wrote it for you after all. And then maybe afterwards you’d be good to play for your class and boom! You’re Julie, songwriting pianist extraordinaire again!”

“I-I don’t know about that, Luke,” She swallowed. Right before her mom passed, they had written a song together, but she hasn’t even been able to look at it since she moved. If she sat down to play it, she’d be accepting all of those memories back. But then again, if she needed to sing anything it would be her mother’s song. They had taken a few months to write it, and Julie’s mom had completed it before…

“I mean maybe. I’ll see. I’ll try.” Julie nodded to herself and gave a determinant look to her wall. Tomorrow morning she would go to her garage and play her mother's song.

“You promise?” Luke asked tentatively. 

“I promise.”

“Alright. I guess I should go, it’s probably pretty late where you are. I’ll see you soon?”

Julie nodded, “See you soon.” Then hung up.

[the-mystical-aquatic-gay]

So my friend @flags-and-fanfiction​ and I have this massive ML Rewrite that we’ve been planning for ages. We haven’t actually started a fic for it or anything, but since quarantine started, I’ve actually been drawing up some costumes for it.

Anyways I thought I’d share some of them with y’all cause I’m actually pretty proud of them!

First up we’ve got a redesign of Miss Chloé Bourgeois’ Queen Bee costume

This design might change at some point, and obviously I didn’t draw in hair or a mask or anything, but this is the outfit we’re probably gonna go with! If you want details about it I’m gonna have some extra stuff under the cut.

Okay let’s dive in here, I’m gonna have notes about the actual costume and about the rest of her design that wasn’t drawn here. Actual drawing stuff first:

I’m gonna try to work from the bottom up so let’s start with the shoes. Yes I know I kept the heels from the canon design, yes I know heels are high impractical for combat but hear me out:

Her suit is magical, if the suits’ are powered by tiny gods that can make the suits look like whatever their wielder truly desires, then I think its plausible that those tiny gods could use magic to allow the wielder to fight safely in heels if they really wanted it.

Chloé is pretty feminine in canon and we plan on keeping that in this AU, so I thought the heels would be a nice thing to keep.

Pointy things are good for jabbing your opponent if they grab you, I think Chloé would take advantage of things like that that other people would see as a weakness and turn them into a hidden strength.

I think that’s enough on the boots so let’s move on to the skirt

The skirt is actually dual purpose, yes it’s obviously a cute little skirt for our Queen and it adds a little splash of blue to her design. But one of the things we’ve decided on for this AU is that any miraculous based on an animal that can fly (Ladybug, Bee, Butterfly, etc), yeah, the person using that miraculous can now fly when transformed. So when Chloé needs to fly somewhere, that skirt will shift up and become wings on her back.

Aside from that, the skirt is another little bit of femininity to her costume and honestly, as long as they’re not long enough for you to step on or something, skirts give a great range of motion and I think Chloé would recognize and use that. In case you weren’t sure from the drawing there is actually a black miniskirt under the skirt that can switch into wings.

Next up the arm things, I just kinda thought they looked cool honestly? They do also follow the idea I mention before though of pointy things being good in close combat though. An alternate idea I’d considered but couldn’t get to work properly (because for some reason I was doing this on Paint 3D) with gloves lined with fuzz like I did on the shoulders. I still might change it to that idea in the future.

Next is the vest and undershirt. I don’t think there’s really much to elaborate on here, it’s just a vest and shirt. All I can really say is that i wanted to have a collar and goes out away from the neck but I didn’t really have room to draw it with the puffballs there so I just drew the shape but attached to her neck instead.

I already mention the puffballs, so I guess the only thing that I really wanted to say here was that those are supposed to be yellow with a light dusting of orange over the top of fuzz/fluff/whatever you wanna call it.

Next we have the things that aren’t in that picture but will be a part of her design in the fic, how her powers differ from canon, and anything else I can think of:

Her hair is gonna be a crown braid with little blue flowers woven in

Why flowers? That actually has to do with her powers! See we think that all powerful gods only giving their wielders one single power that they can only use once is dumb, so we’re changing that.

We don’t have the entire power system figured out, magic systems are hard y’all, but we do have some ideas. For Chloé her powers now are:

Main Power: we haven’t settled on a name for it, but those blue flowers? They’ll be used to seek out people how are willing and able to cooperate with the heroes in their fight. The magic that brings them to Chloé will also protect them from just getting insta killed by the akuma or something.

Secondary Power (might have more than one of these later): her weapon is gonna be a giant honey dipper, if needed she can use it to trap people in a giant glob of honey - and yes, this is basically just venom

We don’t have an official idea for her mask, because we’re changing basically everything for this AU, but I at least am thinking that she’d look cool with some sort of wire frame mask? Yeah they’re obviously not great for hiding faces, but neither are the canon masks, so chalk it up to miraculous magic disguising their identities.

This is the style of mask I mean:

That kinda thing would be so cool on her right? I love these kinds of masks so i just kind fell in love with the idea when I thought of it!

Anyways, I think that’s all the major stuff we’ve got for our version of Queen Bee right now. There’s more stuff we have for Chloé herself, like just as a character outside of the mask, but that can be its own post if people are interested. At some point soon ish here I’m probably gonna do a post about Night Prince, who is our take on Felix with the Black Cat miraculous (this isn’t an “Adrien loses his miraculous partway through the fic” type of thing, he has it from the start, we’re giving Adrien the Turtle when the time comes)

I hope y’all enjoyed this look into our AU and I’ll try to give everyone more soon! 

Edit: here’s the link to Night Prince’s post

[kickingitwithkirk]

Beyond Seduction: pt III

Summary: Isobella Tennant is a woman wanting her independence but society dictates she must conform to their ways. Sam Winchester is the most sought after artist in London and one of its most notorious rakes. He also has a secret he has kept hidden for years. They come together with their own agendas and find something more than either expected.

Pairing: Artist!Sam Winchester x Isobella Tennant

Word Count: 2195

Warnings: Cursing, sexual innuendo, self degradation

A/N: Sam’s finding it harder to keep his thoughts and hands to himself. More slow burn in this part.

PART II

Mobile Masterlist

*no beta, all mistakes are mine

PART III

“Turn around slowly,”

Sam felt his breath catch as the lighting behind her turned his white shirt translucent and could see her figure.

Izzy was lean; her shoulders a gentle swoop, a waist needing no corset to achieve its dip, Sam was sure his large hands would overlap encircling it, narrow hips curved enough to give them a feminine shape, incredible legs with well defined calves peeking out from under the end of silk drawers. He could see between her thighs, Sam personally preferred them plumper, especially when he was lying in between them.

She slowly turned revealing her stomach did possess a slight feminine softness and far from his handful breasts perched high upon her chest needing no assistance to remain pert. Izzy was not malnourished like Sam first supposed but long and lean built.

As she turned her back to him, Sam drew in his lower lip and bit down to stop any noise as he pressed his palm against his swollen cock trying to find some relief.

His restraint was close to breaking, something about this woman made every fiber of his being want to take her apart, have her begging him for release but at the same time wanting to protect her from his own lasciviousness. He wanted her to freely give in and use him to discover her own hedonistic desires.

As she finished turning Sam quickly composed himself, shifting the sketch pad over his lap to cover his predicament. “Stand facing me I want to do a couple more and we’ll call it a night, I’m sure you must be getting tired.”

***

Izzy sat up with a start unsure what had awoken her and immediately regretted it. She burrowed back under the blanket remembering the events of yesterday.

After Sam had bid her goodnight at the second floor stairwell she took the pitcher to the WC happy to find there was still some warm water left in the pipes. She washed up quickly in the cool room deciding to not mess with the fire. Now she regretted it, it was freezing.

Wrapping the blanket around herself she went to the small round window and looked out at the light snow that had fallen sometime during the night.

Shivering she moved over to the pot bellied stove and opened the small door. She had seen the maids do this plenty of time so she picked up the small coal shovel and dumped coal into it. Finding paper starters she inserted a few in between the coal and lit a match to ignite the paper. The stove started smoking up the room as she had forgotten to open the flue.

Carefully reaching in she felt around for the handle, found it and pulled. It was stuck. She tried again, “Come on you bugger!” Izzy snapped as her door slammed open startling her. She landed on her bum at Sam’s shouting about burning the house down.

Hurrying over he knelt down and gripped the handle jerking it open, the smoke sucking upwards starting to clear the room.

Sam grabbed her arm roughly jerking her up onto her knees, “Don’t you have enough sense to open the fucking flue before starting a fire!”

“I tried to open it but the son of a bitch was stuck! How dare you charge in here and roughhouse me you bastard!” Izzy yelled back and shoved Sam hard enough he ended up on his arse.

They glared at each other breathing hard for different reasons. Sam was awoken to the smell of smoke triggering the worst memory of his life and in his panic lost his temper out of fear.

Izzy, despite the beliefs about redheads, rarely lost her temper but Sam's forceful manhandling had triggered strange sensations she was unsure of and it scared the hell out of her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose my temper but you come barreling in yelling and putting your hands on me, that isn’t something I’m accustomed to.”

Sam grimiest, “I shouldn’t have grabbed you, I apologize. And this is my fault, I forgot the flue sticks sometimes. Here, let me show you how to work it.”

Sam watched Izzy scoot over in front of the stove awaiting his instruction. There was one problem; he couldn’t reach in and still have room around his arm for her to see what he did. He moved behind her and got on his knees trapping her legs between his. “What are…”

“You wouldn’t be able to see what I’m doing so I’ll guide you on how to work it.” Sam informed her as he took her hand and inserted them into the stoves opening.

“Feel for the handle,” she wrapped her fingers around the lever as his fingers covered hers, “good. Now when you tug it, twist your wrist at the same time,” Sam instructs. As their arms slid back she pressed against his chest, his naked chest.

Izzy became intimately aware of his substantial member as she was only in her undergarments and Sam, having rushed out of his room, in only his sleep attire.

While most Englishmen wore knee length sleep shirts Sam preferred the pajama style pants from India that hide absolutely nothing when it came to his lower physique.

“I believe I have the technique down on how to work it.”

Her phrasing caused Sam’s member to stiffen more. He slowly rocked his hips in a subtle manner enjoying the friction from the silken material and heat of her.

Sam placed his lips near her ear, “Not yet but you will soon.”

***

Sam yawned as the carriage traveled over London’s busy cobblestone streets. He turned to Izzy finding her starting out the window, wondering what she was thinking. Neither mentioned the incident in her room when they meet in his studio after lunch yesterday. Sam thought back on their slightly skewed conversation.

***

Izzy sat there fidgeting again.

“Will you sit still?”

“I’m bored, not used to just sitting doing nothing. Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“I don’t care.” she cocked her head, “Where are you from originally? I can’t quite place your accent.”

“North.”

“North what?”

“Just north, straighten your head up.”

“Is your family still there?”

“Yes and no.”

“Which is it?”

“...”

“What do they do?”

“Work on an estate.”

“Which one?”

“...”

“Are you an only child?”

“Yes and no.”

“Oldest, middle or youngest?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you being obsequious?”

“Why are you being nosy?”

Izzy blows a raspberry at him.

“That was rude.”

“Then answer my questions.”

“I would if you asked something interesting.”

She squints slightly, “How old are you?”

“Twenty nine.”

She snorted, “practically decrepit.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Practicality baggage yourself.”

Izzy smiled, making Sam catch his breath. It did nothing to improve her looks but was the most guileless one he’d ever seen; he couldn’t help but laugh. She slumped forward resting her forearms on crossed legs studying him.

“When did you see your first nude female?”

“I was twelve.”

“Who was she?”

“Chambermaid. I caught her while washing up.”

“Is that when you decided to become a painter?”

The sketchbook slipped on Sam’s knee as he jerked his head up in surprise. “You think I do this so I can freely ogle naked women?”

“You wouldn’t be the first depraved man that used a legitimate profession for it.”

Depraved. That word stuck in Sam’s mind the rest of the day. Yes, he had done many things in his life that society would consider deprived but to him, it felt natural.

He had stayed up looking at his sketches of her pondering how he would paint her. She didn’t fit most of the classics, her looks were too generic and completely unique at the same time when inspiration finally struck.

***

The carriage stopped in front of a semi detached house in a quiet street. Sam led them to a side entrance. As he rang the bell, Izzy looked at the placard: Madame de Merteuil- Seamstress.

The door opens revealing an older woman. She greeted Sam in heavily accented English, ushering them into her well appointed home. They conversed briefly before Izzy was led into another room.

A younger assistant joined them. Izzy removed her orange dress and Madame de Merteuil personally took her measurements, tutting under her breath, just like her mother's personal seamstress, who only went by Madame, always did at her lack of figure.

The assistant had to bring many swatches of cloth to test against her skin tone, the unflattering comments in French never stopped.

Izzy chose a couple of safe, simple styles and a few undergarments in silk, she couldn’t stand scratchy wool ones, making the seamstress sniff but had them brought out to Sam for approval. She returned telling her they were done.

Sam was flipping through a dress pattern book when Izzy came out. “I hope I didn’t select too many things.” He looked at her curiously, “I thought you would have chosen more than you did.” Izzy shrugged, “I don’t need much.”

Sam was surprised when Madame de Merteuil showed him what had been selected. The women he had brought here previously generously spent his coin but outside of the silk undergarments, which made him wonder if the Duke had given her the ones he had seen her in, Izzy had chosen the simplest everyday garments the seamstress produced.

“Is there anything else needed, Monsieur Winchester?”

Sam looked at Madame de Merteuil, “Yes, do you still have any that dark green left? I’d like it for a coat.”

“Oui, that material would compliment her well.”

“She’ll need an evening gown, that purple silk you showed me, you know what style I like.”

The seamstress bid them goodby. After they climbed into the carriage Izzy turned to Sam. “Why…”

“You are in need of a coat.” He said, “And an evening gown?” Sam shrugged, “I get invited to many events and I never go alone.”

Their last stop was to the pharmacists for personal toiletries and other sundry items. Sam made a face putting back the soaps and shampoo she had selected and chose some far more luxurious crafted items.

Izzy mentally frowned, she had picked the ones she had always used that were moderately fragranced, she didn't like the heavy, cloying scents many favored to hide the strong, unpleasant odors that came with living in London.

Well, if it was what he liked she would have to use them.

***

Izzy walked into the studio as Sam was finishing adjusting a side saddle on a wooden horse, the type workmen used, not the kind children rode.

He smiled at her confused expression, “I’ve decided on the composition for the picture,” he informed her as she started stepping up on the platform, “you will be Lady Godiva...” Izzy’s foot missed the edge and she banged her knee against it.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? She is considered one of the most beautiful women of all times! Mud puddles get more looks th…”

Sam was off the platform grabbing Izzy’s chin between his long fingers forcing her to stop talking and look up at him. He could feel her swallow hard at his thunderous expression.

“As long as you're in my home you are to never say another disparaging comment about your looks! Blink once if you understand me,” she did, “I don’t know who filled your head with that nonsensical claptrap but you have got to stop thinking that way.”

Sam let go of her chin and sat down speaking in a gentler tone, “Let me see your knee, make sure you didn’t injure yourself.” He picked her foot up and placed it on the edge of the platform lifting her skirt up to lay over her thigh and pushed her drawers up feeling around the joint. Her knee had a red line across it but seemed uninjured otherwise.

“Hmmm, you’ll have a bruise, I’ll have Mrs. Mills make a compress for it later. Now, as I was saying, you will be Lady Godiva, I need to sketch you several different compositions before starting the actual portrait so you’ll need to stop wearing my shirt.”

Sam had allowed her to continue wearing it with her drawers but now he needed to actually see her form unobstructed. “You can keep your drawers on for a bit longer but at some point you will lose them too.” Izzy bit her lip in uncertainty.

“Look, if you're too much of a mewling quim, you can leave right now.” Sam stood up irritated, it wasn’t like she had never been naked in front of a man before.

If there was one thing that made Isobella Tennant irate it was to insinuate she was a coward, no one ever got away with it.

With a defiant expression Izzy stared directly into Sam’s eyes before removing her dress and pulled the chemise over her head. She held it up and dramatically released it from her hand. She then untied her drawers letting them pool around her feet before kicking them away.

Turning her back on Sam, she stepped up onto the platform and mounted the saddle.

“Do you want it up or down?”

Forevers: @donnaintx

[hey-hamlet]

‘BANHA’ Fic

aka, my friend who hasn’t watched bnha got really pissed when I told her about Bakugo and Izuku’s old middle school. So pissed, in fact, that she wrote almost 3000 words of a character created solely for this purpose beating the tar out of Bakugo. 

Shes my idol. 

(I edited the names for spelling and edited the dialogue for speech patterns in exactly two scenes. See if you can pick all 3 edited lines) 

“Happy birthday Arlea!” Arlea Hunter started from where she was sitting and chewing on cereal like it was going out of style. Aunty Chitose placed a small cake on the table by Arlea’s bowl, a single candle on top, she gave her a bright smile.

“Thank you! You didn’t have to get me anything,” Arlea said, looking at the cake, it looked delicious. With white frosting that was layered thickly and the words ‘Happy birthday’ scrawled in purple icing. Arlea blew out the candle. Putting her hands together. Squeezing her eyes shut to make a wish. Her Aunty ruffled her hair.

“What are you saying? Of course I’d get you a cake, although it’s a bit little, you can’t share it with your friends.” She said.

“It’s ok, I wouldn’t want to share it either way.” Arlea pointed out. “Except for you of course,” she added, standing to pick up the knife from the counter. proceeding to cut it into quarters.

“Oh, thank you very much, and I’m going to eat three pieces then?” she asked.

“Alright fine, Uncle Hideki and Hanabi can have some too.”

“You two will have to pack it then, since you’re almost late for school.” My aunt pointed out, moving back to the kitchen. Arlea glanced at the clock and almost swore. Scrambling to pick up her lunchbox and carefully pack the cake.

“Hanabi come on down! There’s cake here for you!” Arlea’s Aunt called. it was accompanied by the sounds of frantic footsteps. Eventually Hanabi made it down the stairs, with school bag in hand and her blonde streaked brown hair bouncing around her heart-shaped face. The little princess of the family, with sharp bright blue eyes and a killer smile. Arlea really took time to reflect how different their families were.

Her cousin was a year younger than her, and had an outgoing happy personality, cute sized, whereas Arlea was willowy, with straight drab hair that looked almost black, black eyes. and while she had a quirk of an infectious smile. Arlea’s dove wings wasn’t exactly as useful. It’s not as if she could use them. she reflected ruefully

“Thanks mum!” Hanabi squealed, sitting at the table. “Not now, pack it or we will be late.” Arlea commented. Hanabi glancing at the clock and jumping up again.

“I can’t be late today! I promised Haru I’d help her paint one of the school festival posters.” Hanabi grabbed her back and bolted for the doorway. Arlea shifted past, letting the girl go past her without knocking both of them over. She turned back and packed the second piece for Hanabi, placing both lunchboxes in her bag. She was used to her airheaded cousin forgetting things, and definitely loved her for it. Hanabi made Arlea feel good and reliable. Isn’t that a sad realisation? She mused. heading out the door at an angle and calling her goodbyes to her aunt.

“Come on! move those wings, if we’re late I’m blaming you!” Hanabi called, she grinned at Arlea without any malice. Setting a brisk pace along the sidewalk. Arlea caught up easily, she was taller than her cousin by a couple centimetres. Arlea wasn’t exactly new to Japan, her mum had been from here, and she’d been born here. but growing up in a different culture entirely, and coming back at the age of 15, 12 years later was an… experience.

Specifically the school life, ending up going to Aldera middle school wasn’t exactly fun. It wasn’t a great school, but her area wasn’t a great area, and it would be expensive to send two near-high schoolers to a private school. Public schools weren’t a problem though, after all, if Arlea could survive a public school in Woodridge Australia, she could survive anything.

The school gates loomed ahead and Hanabi called out to her friend Haru. A small girl with curly dark hair, glasses, and a shy personality. Haru smiled, waving at us both.

“Good morning Hanabi, Senpai!” she greeted. Arlea gave her a smile, Hanabi was already dragging her off however.

“I’ll see you at lunch!” She called back. Arlea gave a little snort, unlikely, until she figured out Arlea had her lunch. She didn’t blame her cousin. They had only gotten closer over the past year Arlea had been here, but that probably wasn’t entirely by choice. It’s been a year since Arlea’s mother died, and she had to move to this second-rate school. At least she could get into a better high school.

-

She was sitting with her friends when Hanabi came running over. A slightly panicked look on her face. I smiled at her.

“Forget your lunch today?” Arlea asked her as she reached where Arlea and her friends were eating lunch, a small little side-hall that was open enough to have cool air come through and bright enough for a nice atmosphere. But as she drew closer Arlea’s smile fell. She looked absolutely terrified. Pale faced, on the verge of tears.

“The- that kid in your grade! They’re… beating him up.” She said between sobbing breaths. Hanabi reached her too. She was crying.

“That’s Deku, leave him be, it happens.” One of Arlea’s friends commented. Hanabi cousin looked at him, her face starting to get blotchy as the redness of running took over her straight panic.

“They look like they’re beating him to death! They’re not stopping!” Hanabi rushed out. Arlea looked at her, then stood up.

“Where are the teachers?” Arlea’s friends watched her silently, a few of them staring at their lunches, but no longer eating them. There was something wrong about this situation, sure people were bullied in Australia, but it tended to stop once a teacher was in view.

“They’re just watching!” Hanabi half-shouted. Arlea turned an accusing eye on her friends. Seeing no support on the kid’s side. no cry of outrage.

“Where?” She asked seriously, ignoring the slight shake of  her friend Satoru’s head. Hanabi took off though, and Arlea went after her. Haru following them from behind. Taking a couple shortcuts through empty classrooms Arlea could see where people were gathered on the second floor above one of the yards, staring down at the commotion. Hanabi was slowing down. Arlea slid to a stop next to the furthest student, hearing someone shouting.

“I’m doing you a favour Deku, you’re better off dead than quirkless!” The voice below called up, loud enough to be heard from here. Arlea felt a cold snap of rage, gripping the windowsill she jumped up, Hanabi turned back, calling her name. Arlea leapt out, aiming for Bakugo. One of the popular kids in her grade. He had a cascade of sparks, ready to use it on the kid that was already bleeding from most of his face. His shoulder looked dislocated too, he looked up at Arlea through one eye, the other puffed shut, his lip was broken and bleeding, and he had a serious burn mark on the right side of his neck.

Arlea heard movement and turned her attention. Bakugo stood up, disorientated, Arlea looked at him, gripping her hands into fists, temper, temper. If she lost it now the teachers might actually do something.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” one of the ones holding the boy asked. she turned on him.

“Let him go, or I’ll cut off your creepy salad fingers.” Arlea said. he let the boy go, he crumpled to the ground.

“Get lost, or I’ll give you the same to you, shithead.” Bakugo replied coldly, walking over threateningly. Arlea looked at his face, altogether much too perfect, maybe a broken tooth might teach him a lesson. She decided. He reached her and she rounded a hit on him before he could see the fist coming. The wet slap of her flesh against his face satisfyingly echoing in the semi-empty yard.

“Bakugo!” Someone called from behind, Arlea turned as one of the less active of the bullies ran at her. She gave a cold laugh, before leaping on him, wings outspread in a terrible arch as she twisted into the air, bringing the entire force of her body and slamming into him.

“That’s enough!” someone shouted, Arlea stood, the bullies standing back as a teacher walked this way.

“Oh, is it? And was it enough when they were beating this kid in front of you? Or are you so piss-poor at your own fucing job you couldn’t be bothered actually interfering?” Arlea shouted at him. She stuttered through the Japanese, not exactly fluent, but good enough that the meaning came across strong. The teacher went red faced, walking this way in angry strides, Arlea looked at him, temper ticking so close to being officially lost.

“You’re lucky I’m letting you off for this one, but you’re going to detention for this-“ The teacher stated. He grabbed Arlea’s wrist.

“For what? doing your job for you?” she asked. The teacher turned to look at her.

“How dare you.” the teacher hissed.

“The fuck is wrong with you, why would you waste all your breath on a quirkless bastard?” it was Bakugo again. Temper officially lost. With a swipe, she took the teacher’s legs out from under him, before turning on Bakugo, he put his arms up in defence, seeing the attack this time but not counting on the amount of force behind it, people never did. But wings were extra body mass, no matter how hollow the bones. The two of them fell.

There was only a short scramble, before Arlea was sitting on his chest, hands wrapped tightly around his throat. His eyes bulged. Gripping her wrists, trying to ease the pressure.

“Unfortunately for you, my mother happened to be quirkless. She’s gone; because of scum like you.” Arlea said, a smile on her face as she strangled the boy. “Call this your official warning, if you ever mention that little quirkless thing again, you or any of your little boys. I’m going to hunt you down, slit your throat from ear to ear, and watch you bleed out with a smile on my face.” Arlea wasn’t joking either. She’d almost killed people for less. Bakugo’s struggled became desperate, tears and spit rolling down his face.

“Stop it,” A hoarse voice croaked. Arlea glanced back. the kid was sitting up, looking this way, barely conscious. Arlea turned back. She let go of Bakugo’s throat, not before giving him two more solid hits to the face, one of them crunching at his nose. She stood up, turning back. The teacher must have hit his head, because he was sitting up with a dazed look in his eyes. Arlea turned to look at the kid who was staring back at her with fear. “Don’t - Kacchan’s going to be a hero, it’s only because I’m-�� the boy stuttered.

Arlea turned to look at the people on the floor, the two still standing watched her with fear. She turned back to look at Bakugo, who was coughing and staring up at her.

“Quirkless?” She ground out, teeth audibly grinding against each other in her rage. “It’s ok because you’re weaker than him?” She turned back to Bakugo, snarling. “Newsflash asshole, heroes help people weaker than them. You’re no hero, just a twobit jackass with too many people fawning over your flashy quirk.”  Arlea turned back, grabbing the boy by his good arm and wrenching him up. Taking him towards the infirmary, the kids gathered gave her a wide berth, except for Hanabi, who walked forward, and helped support him on the other side, being careful of his arm.

“Are you ok?” she asked softly. the boy looked at her. but she was looking at Arlea. Who’s jaw was ticked tight, fury in her eyes.

“I’m going to burn down this fucking school.” She replied coldly in English. Hanabi winced,

“I’m sure… that if he knew, he’d not have talked that way.” Hanabi responded softly, Arlea felt her anger cooling. Her cousin trying hard to calm her down and making an effort to speak in English made her feel better.

“If he knew and actually had the audacity to say that, I’d have already killed him.” Alrea pointed out. reverting back to Japanese.

Hanabi gave a shaky sigh, “Mum is going to be furious…”

Well, that she already knew.

-

Surprise, surprise, Arlea was called to the office. She walked there, blood still on her uniform, sitting down politely on the waiting room chairs. The woman there was tense, not looking at her. After a while, the phone rang, and the woman picked it up, putting it back down.

“Please make your way through.” she said, giving Arlea a tense smile.

Arlea stood up, taking a breath. Inside was a furious principal, the concussed teacher, two police officers, and someone who looked like he was a hero. She stopped at the door, looking at the hero and freezing. Well, that didn’t bode well.

“Arlea Hunter, I am appalled by what I’ve heard this afternoon. You were a good student, top of your class, an outstanding reputation. But today you not only attacked 3 of your peers, but a teacher as well. These men are here to escort you off my campus, you’re hereby expelled. I’ve called your aunt to tell her that you’re being escorted to the station. Honours exchange student or not, I will not tolerate that kind of violence on my campus.” The principal, who Arlea was shocked didn’t run out of breath halfway through, was red-faced. Furious, the teacher was watching her with a smile.

Arlea turned to him. “Really? Not only will you let another student burn Deku’s face off, but you’ll stand there and smile when the only person willing to stand up for him is being sent off?” She asked. The teacher paled.

“She’s lying!” he immediately cried. Arlea crossed her arms.

“Bakugo told Deku to kill himself because he was quirkless, then went ahead to hit him again, and everyone stood around and did nothing. This student who had the audacity to think he was going to become a hero.” Arlea was enraged now, walking to the desk and slamming her hands down.

“What the hell is wrong with your teaching staff? A single boy was being beaten to death on your school grounds by four people and your staff did nothing! What kind of sicko school do you run?” She was screaming now. then turned to the police.

“You want to take me to the station? Good! I’ll be a valuable witness, and I’ll proudly stand against Bakugo, what kind of sick psychopath burns the face off one of his peers?” She rounded on the principal again. “I’m also surprised that you called my aunt, you should have kept quiet, because you know she’s just going to come here and take my side. And when there’s an internal investigation? You’ll find me watching you burn to the ground with all the rest of your staff. You run an institute that’s supposed to support your student base, and watch them grow. Their parents are relying on you to keep their children safe, and you’re sending one of them home with injuries nearly every day!” Arlea pulled herself to full height, looking down at the man sitting there, getting paler and paler at her accusations. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves.” she hissed out finally.

There was a tense silence, neither the teacher nor principal would break it. Arlae had just gone and blurted out their failures in front of two cops and a hero. If that didn’t scream ‘doomed’ she didn’t know what did. The hero spoke up first.

“Today has been quite the eventful day for everyone involved. What I suggest happens is that Principal Satoru runs an internal investigation into this matter. Bakugo will be flagged to watch for quirk abuse on U.A records. I also suggest you discuss a solution with Arlea Hunter’s aunt when she arrives, so that expulsion can be avoided.” The hero said calmly. Arlea blinked at him.

“How can you speak reasonably in this situation?” She asked, outraged. The hero pinned her with a steady gaze.

“You were also using your quirk maliciously in body slamming a student. If this Bakugo is punished. You will be also, if the student who was injured decides to go ahead and press charges, then we will do something about it and bar him from entering our academy, if what you say about him wanting to become a hero is true. You may find yourself with the brunt of the punishment however, the student you attacked was not Bakugo by the sounds of it, which means you didn’t use your quirk for self defence either.” The hero turned and walked to Arlea, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“In this instance, it would be logical to just let it go. It would be a shame to lose a potential student with such a strong motivation for justice.” The hero nodded his goodbye to the principal and left. giving Arlea an encouraging smile. She didn’t feel it, wanting instead to throw her fists around and continue her angry outburst. Trying to attack a hero would be a tad ambitious. It also made her feel worse that he thought he saw justice. But it was just selfish, bitter anger. Just piss-poor timing for Bakugo to be an asshole. A year ago today her own mother killed herself over the same words. You’d be better off dead than quirkless. Arlea glared at the two people left in the room. before turning and walking out again. she needed a good cry behind the furthest building, at least before her aunty arrived.

[stellar-alley]

Everfalls

•Chapter 3•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram! Also shout out to my Beta super.rose.cosplays!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Eddie's first day at Derry High and he has a pretty eventful day.)

~

(Note: Okay so, this is gonna sound weird, but it needs to happen. So yes Eddie just came to Derry and doesn't know much about human life, but he's gonna go to school. And that's the thing, I have no clue how to set up a scene where he finds out about highschool and decides to go. So I'm just gonna say it now, Eddie knows what school is and how to act cause obviously they had schools in The All Lands, but now he's just going to human highschool cause he knows he can't just.... not go to school. I hope this makes sense! So yeah, when Monday rolls around Eddie gets up and gets ready to head to school)

 Monday morning Richie had some time to spare before homeroom which he spent chain-smoking with Beverly. She's one of Richie's long time friends who also happens to be his smoking buddy. The two sat in their usual spot under the bleachers by the football field which gave them a good view of the student parking lot as they people watched. They blew smoke clouds into the sky and talked about whatever came to mind.

Smoking isn't a new pastime for Richie, he started a couple of years ago when his father told him about how Ancestors couldn't get human illnesses. That's why Richie never got sick or had the flu and would never get cancer. At first, Went and Maggie were opposed to the idea since they thought it made Richie look bad, but the two caved as they knew it was better for Richie to be smoking in the bathroom rather than starting fights outback and clawing some punk to death. Smoking had also become a way for the young pup to calm his nerves when life got to be too much. If he was on the verge of losing his grip on his other side he'd start smoking, which would slowly calm the wolf inside of him.

"So Rich, how was your weekend?" Beverly Marsh, one of the most badass, hardcore people Richie knows. She lives her life on her terms, after her father's mysterious death, she was legally adopted by her aunt. Beverly then proceeded to convince her super cool aunt to let her stay in her apartment on her own, and somehow she succeeded.

The werewolf shrugged, "You know, same old same old. Read comics, watched TV, read comics while watching tv". Thinking about the weekend brought up the memory of the vomiting, and what that meant for the full moon. He had 20 days before his first shift, and usually, a wolf would be excited, just waiting to finally 'wolf out'. But not this pup. Richie was worried, he'd never done anything like this before and he was nervous. The visual of the full moon hanging low in the sky prompted Richie to close his eyes and take a long drag.

Then there was that feeling again. Just like the one from Saturday afternoon when he was reading comics and suddenly felt like looking out the window. Just as he finished his drag, Richie's eyes fluttered open, immediately his gaze fell on an unfamiliar face. Richie abruptly began coughing harshly.

"Woah Richie, what's up?" Bev placed her hand on his back and patted it a couple of times.

Richie forced himself to look up again. This time the wolf's eyes were met with a pair of golden Bambi eyes, wide with curiosity. The boy was staring up at the big school building that stood before him then smiled softly down at the paper in his hand. He wore a black beanie but that didn't hide the chocolate brown locks that shined under the warm light of the morning sun. Richie couldn't stop the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of this earth angel.

"Who's the new kid?" He croaked in between coughs.

Bev urgently looked up to see who he was talking about, she shook her head and turned back to her friend. She quickly reached into her backpack and grabbed her water bottle, slapped it into Richie's hand and forced him to drink. Thankfully, he stopped coughing. "Better?" She asked.

Richie nodded, "Better" he confirmed. When he went to look at the new kid again, he had disappeared.

Shit

 ~

Eddie was excited to start highschool. There was something about this new start at a new school that made him feel like he was finally living his life on his terms. The young Ancestor walked up the main pathway towards the school and fished his packet of forms out from his bag. He began to scan his papers, wondering where he needed to go first but there was a sudden burst of coughs that drew his gaze away from his papers.

Eddie looked up and saw a guy sat under a set of bleachers, frantically coughing. He wore a dark red beanie on his head which covered black messy curls. Eddie didn't get to examine the rest of the boy or even go ask if he was okay, because someone had just walked up to him and began talking.

"Hey are you Eddie?" A female voice asked from beside him.

Eddie had to pry his eyes off of the boy under the bleachers and realized he hadn't even heard what she’d said. He only responded with, "Hm?".

Her smile didn't falter, "You're Eddie, right?" She repeated.

"Yes! That's me" Eddie returned the smile.

"Great, my name is Alley. The office told me that you needed someone to shadow for your first day. We have the same schedule, so you'll be my shadow today" She informed Eddie. Basically she was going to show Eddie around and take him to all her classes, which was a plus because they had them all together.

Alley was a little bit taller than Eddie. Soft caramel brown curls that fell just past her shoulders and matching brown eyes. She wore a red and black flannel with a tye-dye t-shirt underneath that had the phases of the moon on it, ripped jeans and vans. It was different from Eddie's style, but he liked it.

For his first day, the bunny carefully chose an outfit from the clothes he'd brought. A pair of grey-blue jeans and a loose jean button up with the sleeves rolled up. Oh! And his father's beanie of course.

"Great," Eddie said happily and followed Alley into the school.

First, she led him to the office where he signed off on the last of his papers and got the last of the supplies he needed. Next was homeroom, which was biology. Then math, and lunch. Alley insisted that he join her at her normal table which consisted of her friends Regan and Cece. Reagan was a redhead with a subtle southern accent whilst Cece had short brown hair and wore a red flannel matching with Alley. Eddie couldn't tell if it was intentional or not, but nonetheless, they were nice girls and welcomed him with open arms.

Once lunch was over, Alley and Eddie were walking side by side in the hallway on their way to English when Alley unexpectedly grabbed Eddie by the hand and pulled him off into a side hallway. She put her finger to her lips in an attempt to get him to stay quiet. The boy watched as a group of guys walked through the halls, there were four of them, and it didn't look like Alley was the only one who tried to stay out of their way.

So Eddie stayed quiet, and spoke once they were out of earshot, "Who was that?".

"That's Henry Bowers and his goons" She groaned, "Sorry about that. Henry and my brother have some weird beef, so now he has it out for me too or whatever" Alley rolled her eyes. Then motioned for Eddie to continue following her through the halls.

"That sucks" Eddie looked over at the worried look that Alley wore.

"Hmm, yeah. Just don't get on his bad side, please" Alley advised before she turned towards the door to their English class.

The atmosphere shifted when they stepped inside the classroom. From a tense and steady hallway to a laughter filled classroom. Somebody had obviously told a joke or something because most of the kids were laughing if not giggling/smirking.

Eddie's eyes fell on the boy who was laughing the loudest. His smile lit up the entire room, his laugh was loud but true, real, and heartwarming. The edges of Eddie's lips threatened to make his smile bigger than it already was, but he resisted the urge to laugh along with them. Instead he followed Alley to a couple of open seats near the window. He took the seat behind her and got his binders out and placed them neatly on his desk.

The laughter in the room slowly began to die down. Eddie glanced over at the laughing boy, still giggling and poking at his bigger friend, but looked away soon after and focused on the notebooks in front of him. Eddie glanced again when he fully stopped laughing, even though he wasn't laughing, his face still glowed. Even if he wasn't smiling he still gave off that positive energy that caused Eddie to smile down at his notes. 

Richie noticed Eddie as well. He was a little busy laughing his ass off at his own joke to go introduce himself when the new boy first entered the classroom, and he'd been sitting down for a little while now. Richie came to the conclusion that it'd be weird if he did go now. So he opted to keep the conversation up with his friends, and just keep an eye on the new kid. He'd caught the new kid doing the same, which caused him to smirk to himself.

"Okay okay, guys if I laugh anymore I'm gonna piss myself" Richie giggled.

"Why do you insist on calling it piss? Please just say pee" Stan rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Urination Station?" Ben suggested with raised eyebrows. Surprisingly, Stan actually cracked up at the suggestion.

The ones who sat around Richie were Ben Hanscom and Stanley Uris.

Ben Hanscom is a bigger kid, that goes for his heart as well. That kid is caring and thoughtful as hell. Then there's Stan The Man Uris, he's a Jew, which basically means he killed Jesus. Kidding. (He made that joke in the book, don't @ me) but seriously, Stan is one of the real ones. He's my ride or die.

Their little laugh session was cut short when their English teacher, Mr Brock, walked into the room. He was fairly tall and well built, he had dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, which matched his blue button up. "Hello ladies and gentlemen. Today we're gonna be starting 1984, by George Orwell. But before that, we do have a new student. Eddie? Do you mind standing?".

Eddie nodded, quietly stood up and gave the class a quick wave, “Hello".

"Guys, this is Eddie Kaspbrak. Make him feel at home, alright? Eddie, welcome to my English class" he smiled over at his student, Eddie quickly sat back down, his cheeks a little bit darker than before.

The class went fairly well, aside from the time when Mr Brock requested for Eddie to read a passage from 1984 out loud, and he stumbled over literally every third word. It was mildly embarrassing but he got over it quickly.

The rest of the day was good! Since the school is already 2 months into the second semester I have a stack of homework to catch up on. That's okay though! At least now I have my own thing to keep me busy. After English, I had history, which was for sure a challenge since the things we learn back home about human history is very different from what humans teach... 

Overall my day was going pretty well! Then it took a turn...

The final bell had rung, Eddie and Alley grabbed their bags from their lockers and began to make their way out of the school. Eddie vaguely explained where he lived, without giving too much detail since he knew she wouldn't know where his house was anyway since it was, ya know, invisible to everyone except him. On the plus side, they walked the same way home! Yes Alley's house was only 2 minutes from the school and they'd split off pretty quickly but it was nice to know he didn't have to walk the entire way alone. She even showed him how to go through the back gate of the school, so they'd miss all of the foot traffic at the front of the school.

The two friends were walking behind the school, no one else in sight, as all of the students fled the school as soon as possible. They turned the corner to walk towards the back gate and spotted Henry Bowers and his goons, they leaned up against the school's exterior wall. Henry had a mullet and a raggy tank top on, and he was with a kid with bleach blonde hair who looked like he was going to join the army, and a bigger guy with a baseball cap who stood beside the tallest of the four, he was lanky with black shaggy hair. Eddie's stomach turned as he thought about what would happen if they started something...

Just as the two were about to peacefully walk past the four boys, Henry stepped in front of them. He glared at Alley, "Red, better tell your fucking brother to get me my damn money or else-".

"You'll eat him alive?" She finished, "Yeah I know". Alley hadn't stopped walking, neither had Eddie. But just as they were about to walk around Henry, he stuck his foot out. Alley fell face-first to the pavement.

"Don't talk back to me, bitch" Henry leaned down and growled at her.

The Ancestor's eyes were as wide as saucers as he stepped in, "Hey come on we don't wanna start anything" Eddie pleaded.

"Was I talking to you? Fucking fairy. Jesus, this town just keeps getting more fucked with all of these fags-", Eddie didn't think, he just... Punched Henry. Right in the face. The bully stumbled backwards, suddenly all of his goons were up and behind him as if they were awaiting a command to attack. The tall lanky one grabbed Henry's shoulder before he fell. Henry shook his hand off before he returned his attention to Eddie and Alley, who was now back on her feet.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that fags could be tough asses" He snarled and glanced at the guys behind him, "looks like we better show these bastards whos the boss around here". 

Henry took a step forward, pulled his fist back and was just about to throw a punch at Eddie, when a rock hit him in the back of the head. If he wasn't mad before, not Henry looked pissed. "What the fu-" He turned and roared at whoever was behind him when another rock hit his stomach. He gripped the area that was hit as pain exploded in his stomach.

"I don't think you wanna do that" A voice called out. Eddie's eyes snapped up to whoever was talking. His gaze was greeted by the beanie boy from English, the one who was manically coughing under the bleachers.

Henry was about to command the attack, go full-on and beat the living shit out of the boy, but something caught his eye. A cop car was parked at the edge of the school's property. Henry knew his father was watching, he had to stand down, or else he'd risk a much harder beating from his own father.

"Scatter, regroup tomorrow" Henry commanded instead, defeat tinted his voice. Patrik, Victor and Belch hesitated only for a moment before doing as their leader said, and they left. But Henry waited for a minute or two with an emotionless face.

"Go" Eddie gave his own demand to Alley, she nodded, as she didn't need any more scrapes and bruises. So she left.

Henry glanced at the cop car and noticed that his father wasn't looking at them, so he took his chance. Richie was curious about what Henry kept glancing at, he tilted his head momentarily to look behind him. He didn't notice Henry pick up one of the rocks he'd been hit with, nor did he notice him pull back in preparation to throw it.

Eddie's heart stopped when he watched Henry pelt the boy, in the head with the rock. Then everything stopped altogether when he fell to the ground on impact.

"Suck on that" Henry smirked before he bolted, worried that his father had seen him.

The Ancestor stood there in shock, unsure of what to do. The boy was still on the ground when Eddie rushed to his side.

"Holy shit a-are you okay?" His words were rushed, kinda like his thoughts. Eddie rapidly began to scan the boy who laid before him. He wasn't responding, which was bad, but Eddie could see his chest rise and fall as he breathed, which was good. "Please, please wake up" He begged as he examined the damage that Henry had done. He had to try to focus on the mission at hand, helping his classmate, he had to ignore his sharp jawline and his cute black curls- not now Eddie, jesus, not now-

He was hit just above his eyebrow, close to his hairline. The rock left cuts and scratches on the poor boy's pretty face. He had been wearing glasses, but Eddie was more focused on the blood coming from the boy's head. Eddie also noticed that the boy's beanie still remained on his head. He hesitated, not wanting to take the hat off, but he needed to get a clear view of the scrap. So before he could think about it anymore, he winced and slid the beanie off the boy's head.

"Shit" Eddie gasped at what laid before him. His ears weren't normal, they weren't human. Perched on top of his head, hidden deep within the forest of curls, were a pair of wolf ears. They were covered in black fur, similar to his hair, and they were pointed, like wolf ears.

Okay Eddie, calm down. He has wolf ears, is he a hybrid? a werewolf?

The questions began to eat away at him.

STOP IT! Okay, you need to focus. He's hurt, focus on that. Ask questions later. Freak out later.

Eddie looked away, took a deep breath then moved his hands to hover over the scraped area. He pushed his worries down and began to put all of his focus into the damage done to this cute boy's forehead.

Magic was common amongst Ancestors, it came easier to some, while others didn’t have any at all. Eddie was lucky, he had a good grasp over his abilities. He had a small range of powers but he mainly used his abilities to heal.  So that’s what he did. The bunny moved his hands to hover over the wound and he watched as little white wisps of magic began to seep from his palms.

Word Count: 3030

Thank you guys so much for checking out my new chapter! I hope you all enjoyed, if you did be sure to leave a like and comment, and re blog! If you guys want me to make some type of tag list so you’ll get updates every time I update then comment and I can add you! 

Don��t forget to go check out my masterlist to see all my other projects.

I will see you all next week with the next chapter, but until then

So Long and Goodnight This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram! Also shout out to my Beta super.rose.cosplays!•Chapter 2•