#little bit of anne

[chuck-the-goon]

Colliding Worlds (Show and Book Armand)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Actually, the bars aren't so bad anymore.

Think you can fix him? Read about his care instructions over at Tiger Tiger)

[myokk]

Anne, 11 years old💓💓💓

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 6)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Protective Mel <3

Warnings: Smut, flirting, arguments, and working through internalized homophobia

Author’s Note: THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MYGOD. @icannolongercountmyfandoms is the one you can thank for a new chapter bc she LITERALLY threatened me with BODILY HARM /j

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A soft knock on your office door drew your attention from your desktop monitor to the sweet face of Melissa Schemmenti. You had been ordering parts on a vehicle currently in your shop when her presence delightfully interrupted your work. 

Leaning back in your desk chair, you rest your hands on your thighs as you look her over. She wore leather pants and a form fitting top that only reminded you that it had been weeks since you last fooled around with the beautiful redhead. You spoke with a smirk, your eyes obviously wandering to admire her entire body, “What do I owe the pleasure of having Ms. Schemmenti in my office?”

Mel adored the way you stared, allowing the door to shut behind her as she inched deeper into the office. Her eyes scanned the walls littered with articles about the auto shop that had been in business for decades - opened by your great-uncle in the 70s. She murmured her reply without looking at you, “Just thought I’d drop by...” 

“I saw you less than 12 hours ago. I can’t believe you miss me already.” Your eyes were glued to her ass as she turned her back to you. 

Melissa kept her back to you as she spoke, slowly walking the perimeter of the office to skim the framed headlines. She returned the playful banter with a monotone, “I’m just here to make sure you are doin’ your job and not just daydreamin’ about me all day.”

“I have time for both.” You tease, earning a sideways glance and eye roll from the redhead. 

When she was done touring the office, she perched herself at the edge of your desk. Your response was to move your office chair closer while simultaneously leaning backwards, stretching out to allow Melissa’s eyes to skim over you. 

“Enjoying the view?” You asked.

“I am.” Her arms folded over her chest as a mischievous smirk grew on her lips. Mel’s eyes flickered from your shoulders, over your chest, allowing her eyes to linger before drifting back to your face, “I’ve never seen you in your work clothes.”

You give a shrug, teasing her, “That happens when you don’t call before 8pm.” 

Your comment had more bite than you intended, but Melissa didn’t seem to take it too personally. She brushed her hair over her shoulder before placing both of her hands on the arms of your chair and looming over you, “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

Rather than meet her intense green hues, you admired her cleavage with no effort to conceal your desires. “What do you have in mind?” Melissa’s demeanor changed with a playful laugh. You could’ve sworn you felt her purring as her face drifted closer to yours. Her nose and lips brushed against yours before she scantily pulled away, “A little weekend getaway. You, me, and a cheap, little hotel right on the beach in Atlantic City.” 

You cocked your head with a shit eating grin across your face, “Are you asking me on a date?” 

Her response contained no hesitation or nervousness. Rather she seemed incredibly satisfied with herself, “I am.” 

“Then say it.” Your demeanor was entirely too confident for Melissa’s liking, and you could tell this was the case as her brows narrowed as she stared you down. Her stubborn nature had her fall silent, searching your face to see how serious you were. You confirmed your serious intentions as you returned her intimidating gaze, “Go on.”

The redhead glared for a few seconds longer before straightening her back and softening her features, “Will you go on a date with me?”

“Why, I thought you would never ask.” To reward Mel for her behavior, you rose from your chair, pressing a brief kiss to her lips that threatened to cause Melissa’s cheeks to flush red.

—

“What in the hell is this?” A voice and a banging on the window to your office caused Melissa to jump from your lap to prevent anyone from seeing how cozied up you had been with one another. 

With a wave of frustration now coursing through your veins, you rose from your chair and strode to the door, opening it to face a disgruntled customer. He pushed a piece of paper stained with the vaguely familiar markings of the autoshop printer into your face. You quickly pushed away his hand and failed to provide his aggression with kind customer service, “It looks like a receipt.”

He pointed at the receipt, raving about the additional charges tacked onto the original cost of fixing his vehicle, “What the hell are all of these extra charges? You said it was gonna cost $300 and now you’re charging me over $500!”

You only shrugged at his frustrations, leaning away from him as he threatened your bubble of personal space once again as you tried to explain the additional charges. You hadn’t noticed Melissa lingering in the doorway behind you, silently fuming at the way the customer was speaking to you, “We told you when you dropped it off that you gotta pick it up within 24 hours or else we charge ya’ for parking. You left the Buick here for over a week, man. We aren’t a public parking lot. We need the space for other customers.”

“Where’s your fuckin’ manager?”

“I am the fuckin’ manager.”

You returning his energy wasn’t something he took kindly. He waded up the bill and tossed it aside before pushing his finger into your chest, “If you think for a goddamn minute I will be paying this bill, you have another thing comin’. I don’t need some bitch robbing me of my hard earned money.” The second he touched you, Melissa rounded your side and came to stand between you and the man. Her hands were balled into fists and perched on her hips as she stared defiantly up at the man who stood two feet taller than her. You glanced down and noticed gripped in one of her hands was a baseball bat you kept tucked behind your desk, “Is there a problem here?”

The man gave a tired sigh, waving a hand in Melissa’s face. Little did he know that his waving hand was akin to the red flag waving in the face of a raging bull, “Get lost, red. It’s none of your business.”

With one swift movement she lifted the bat, allowing it to slide in her hand so she gripped the barrell, shortening it enough that she could poke him in the chest with it. You watched her lean back and forth as she threatened him - a genetic trait of Schemmenti’s as they threatened people. “The second you decided to start with the name callin’ it became my problem. I suggest you pay up before your car ends up with more problems than what you came in with.”

He made the worst possible decision as he placed his hands on his knees, speaking to Melissa as if he were talking to a child. “Stay the hell out of this. This is between me and your girlfriend.”

Melissa stared him down for a fraction of a second before snapping. She allowed the bat to slide back down in her hand so she could grip the handle and lift the aluminum bat above her head, ready to strike. You were lucky you had your eyes glued to her rather than the unwelcome customer so you had the time to loop one arm around her waist while the other raised to grip the barrel of the bat. 

“No, no, no, no!” You scolded, tugging her back towards the office while some of the boys working in the shop intervened. 

Mel barely gave up a fight against you, rather she stared down her new mortal enemy with a vitriol you had yet to see on her face before. When she was finally in the office, you released her while tearing the bat from her grasp lest she have any ideas about slipping past you to exact her revenge.

Knowing she was now trapped in your office, she began pacing back and forth with a rage you could feel radiating off her. You leaned against the door, watching her traverse your office like a caged wildcat which only made you smile. With a lighthearted tone, you tried to calm her, “Easy, tiger.”

Melissa whipped around to face you, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she was clearly unhappy with your decision to prevent her from teaching that guy a lesson. She stared up at you with a defiance that you found incredibly endearing, and what was even more endearing was the way she continued fighting for you, “He can’t just talk to you like that!”

“Don’t give it too much thought. I deal with guys like that all the time.” You calmly brush off the encounter, remembering countless situations wherein things escalated much further and you were called far worse. Leaving the bat by the door, you approach the seething woman with a serenity that cooled her boiling anger. 

The redhead refused to respond to you and her eyes studied the calendar on the wall to avoid meeting your own. She folded her arms over chest and you watched her demeanor shift from simmering anger to pouty eyes begging for your attention. 

Taking her face in your hands, you lift her face towards you and press a kiss to her forehead before wrapping her into a tight hug, “I promise you. It’s okay.”

--

You drop your phone down onto the bed when Melissa walks out only wearing an oversized sweatshirt. The bagginess of the clothing hid everything and you were ready to help her out of it as quickly as she put it on. You gestured for her to come to your side of the bed, “Just when I think you can’t get more gorgeous, you walk out looking like that.” 

Melissa crawled into bed with you, straddling your lap for a moment to give you hope before sliding off to land on her side of the bed, “I have work in the morning. I don’t need any of your funny business. ”

You ‘tsked’ her response and pulled away the covers so she wouldn’t be able to hide. You rapidly maneuvered so you would be on your knees before her so your hands could guide her thighs open. She was smirking as she put up no fight against your efforts. She even lifted her sweatshirt to reveal more of herself to you; that move alone told you she wasn’t truly opposed to your ‘funny business’.

Settling onto your stomach, you lean your cheek against her thigh, staring intently at her panties, “Funny business? There is nothing funny about this...”

“Mm… Prove it.” A manicured hand wove into your hair, drawing your face closer to her heat. Her back arched involuntarily and caused her hips to shift downwards closer to your mouth. 

“Happily.” You murmured, hooking your fingers around the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down her legs the best you could. They were at her knees when you lowered your face to her cunt once again. As a professional in pleasuring Melissa, you skillfully wound your arms around her thighs before using your fingers to spread her cunt open for your tongue to go to work. 

You felt Melissa’s thighs squeeze your head for a moment as she worked to remove her underwear without trying to impact your ability to give head. The feeling of her legs around her head drove you insane. You tried to let her know how much you craved her as your hands shifted back to her thighs so you could feel your fingers compress into her soft flesh. 

Melissa relaxed back into the bed, completely melting into your touch. Her hands rose above her head to grip the bed frame - a silent way of giving you complete control. 

She was already sleepy from your lovemaking from nearly an hour ago, so this time Mel was far less energetic and performative. It was mesmerizing watching her head softly turn back and forth while soft breathy moans escaped her mouth. This was exactly what made Melissa so addicting for you. 

You watched her crane her neck so she could press her face into her pillow to catch the fabric between her teeth. In response, you swirl your tongue around her clit before giving her clit a hard suck. She gave a strained and exhausted growl that faded into a quiet whine - her quietness all centered around preventing her roommate from hearing.

You attempted to move your mouth away to give her reprieve, but her hips lifted off the mattress to impede too much separation.

Part of you wondered how far you could push Melissa. To satiate your curiosity, you gently scraped your teeth against her clit, earning a hiss then a whiney moan. You were clearly pushing your luck with how much she could handle. When you continued with your teasing licks, your eyes flickered back up to her face to enjoy the view. Her chest was heaving and her bottom lip jutted out into a pathetic pout as her hips began grinding against your tongue as she sought out an orgasm. 

For a split second you considered confessing your love to Melissa like you did all those years ago, but you kept yourself from doing so. She needed to come to you. Instead you opted to pay her a compliment instead, “You’re so good for me, pretty girl…”

Your heart fluttered as you watched a smile spread across her face. She then attempted to silence a rumble deep in her throat and hide her simper, but it was fruitless as the compliments continued falling off your lips. You breathily mumbled about her hips and thighs, briefly pausing to stroke your tongue up and down her drippy cunt, and continued your mad ramblings about how beautiful you found her to be.

In your moments of desperation, your words had caused Melissa’s face to grow hot from embarrassment. It was easy accepting compliments when the moment lacked the vulnerability of sex and nudity, but when your face was buried between her legs the flattering remarks felt all too real. She tried to brush them aside, only to have them linger at the outskirts of her mind. 

As you refocused your attention on her clit with the addition of two fingers gently inching deeper into her pussy, Melissa was struggling to escape the thoughts of your feelings towards her. She despised how light it made her feel. She hated that she felt herself being drawn closer to orgasm from the adoration she felt from you. 

Her fierce independence was battling the all-consuming craving to feel desired.

While you were not privy to her inner turmoil, you only worked harder to bring her pleasure. Your fingers gently curled within her, stroking that special spot you discovered during your youth. A coil tightened within Melissa, her hand shooting down to grip your spare wrist to steady herself. 

You chose to lose yourself in giving head once again. Her breasts gently shook with each light shift of her body - a mesmerizing sight. You were lapping and kissing at her clit softly as you hoped to draw out this experience as much as possible. However, Melissa was unable to take anymore as an orgasm washed over her and her back swiftly lifted off the bed and quickly arched back into the mattress, pushing her hips to your mouth. 

You slowed down the movements of your tongue, but you didn’t stop entirely. You wanted to slowly bring her down from her peak (and selfishly you wanted you to continue enjoying the feeling of her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head). When her back finally relaxed against the mattress, you slipped your hand from her cunt to reluctantly help guide her thighs into a resting position. You gave her thighs a couple of gentle bites, encouraging to ease up on you, “Come on, pretty girl…”

Melissa whimpered as her legs shakily parted, nervous you would attempt to continue regardless of her exhaustion. You only nuzzled her thighs, slowly smothering them with kisses in a way that gave Melissa butterflies. 

She was quick to try and move herself out of such a vulnerable position. “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m already way up past my bedtime.” Melissa gave your arm a pat, encouraging you to get up as she shifted her hips to the left as if she were attempting to move off the bed. 

You rolled off the redhead and sat up, taking that as her subtle hint for you to head home. After following Melissa to the bathroom and using the sink to wash your face and hands, you began gathering your clothes to make your exit. This only confused the redhead as she pulled back the comforter for both sides of the bed as she expected you to join her, “Whered’ya think your goin’?”

“Oh…” Your eyes widened and you began removing your sweatpants that you just put on. You undressed and joined the redhead in bed, earning a satisfied hum from her. 

When you were settled on your back, Melissa was on her side facing away from you. She found a way to make physical contact with you by backing up in bed so her back was pressed to your side. She shifted in bed for a few moments as she tried to find a comfortable position, and after she did she mumbled sleepily, “Be warned. I wake up at 6.”

You started your sentence mid-yawn, “That’s a shocker.”

She had one final quip for you as sleep threatened to overtake her, “I don’t just wake up looking this beautiful.” 

With a chuckle, you gave her ass a pat, mumbling out your final few words before allowing yourself to enjoy some silence before you fell asleep, “I doubt that…”

--

You woke up the next morning with Melissa already off to work, but when you checked your phone you had a message from Mel waiting for you. 

Melissa: Couldn’t bear to wake you up. You should have told me you were that cute when you slept. I would’ve let you stay sooner.

Y/N: I don’t believe that for a second. 

Y/N: Don’t worry. I’m getting ready right now and I’ll be out soon. 

You quickly sent the second message as you didn’t want to seem too over confident nor did you want to overstay your welcome. 

Melissa: No rush. There is lunch for you in the fridge. I marked the tupperware.

You grinned at your phone like a lovestruck idiot. Quickly you threw on your clothes and wandered down to the kitchen to see what Melissa had left for you in the fridge. Sitting on the top shelf was undoubtedly a tupperware full of her insanely good spaghetti with a bright pink sticky note stuck to the top marked with your name and a little heart.

Y/N: Thank you! Will I see you later?

Melissa: Open house tonight. See you Saturday? 

Melissa: I’ll let you take me to dinner.

The thought of waiting two days to see Melissa next was brutal, but you would take what you got as rarely did she ever make plans with you in advance. 

Y/N: Let me? What an honor.

Melissa: Believe me. I know.

You were smiling at your phone through the rest of the day as Melissa texted you about little things happening at school. Sometimes the stories she told you about Abbott were hard to believe. 

Her attention made you feel lovesick as you were constantly checking your phone, smiling at the thought of her getting into shenanigans and doing her terrible impressions for her work friends. The thought of going on a weekend getaway with her was only sounding better and better.

Link to Chapter 7

Taglist: Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @cosmichymns

[robinfrinjs]

Always There, Women in Motorsport: The fast women of la belle époque

Women's history in motorsport is rich, and that has always been the case. Most of these stories however aren’t well known and aren’t spoken about enough. Women have always been in motorsport and always will be.

Three French women, Hélène van Zuylen, Camille du Gast, and Anne de Rochechouart de Mortemart are some of the fastest women from France’s La Belle Epoque (circa 1880-1914).

In 1898 Anne de Rochechouart de Mortemart (1847-1933) (also known as the Duchess of Uzes) became the first woman in France to obtain her driver’s license. While getting out of the car she announced with delight that woman had just overcome a new barrier. Not long after she also became the first to be caught speeding for which she had to pay a five franc fine.

in 1926 she founded the first female Automobile Club, L'Automobile Club féminin de France (ACFF)

The Duchess of Uzes in 1927

Hélène van Zuylen (pictured on the cover image) was a French author but also the first woman to compete in an international auto race. Baron Etienne van Zuylen, her husband, was the President of the Automobile Club de France

She entered the 1898 Paris–Amsterdam–Paris using the nickname Snail, while her husband used the nickname Escargot. She successfully competed the trail and entered the Paris-Berlin race in 1901 but was stopped by technical failure.

That year Hélène, a lesbian, would meet Renée Vivien with whom she would have an affair. Vivien's letters to a confidant revealed that she considered herself married to Hélène. Most of Vivien's work is dedicated to "H.L.C.B.," the initials of Zuylen's first names.

Just over a decade before she died, Hélène van Zuylen created the Renée Vivien Prize, Honoring the woman she loved and intending to give encouragement to female writers.

Hélène van Zuylen - Nouvelle Revue internationale illustrée, December 1908

Camille du Gast (1868-1942) finished 33rd (19th in class) out of 122 participants in the 1901 Paris-Berlin race. Du Gast, achieved the results despite driving her husband's 20CV Panhard-Levassor which was not designed for racing. She had to start the race in last because she was a woman. The race did mark 2 female competitors with du Gast and van Zuylen. She loved several extreme sports such as mountaineering, parachuting and frencing.

In 1902 she competed in the Paris-Vienna race and also wanted to compete in the New York-San Francisco but was refused entry because she was a woman.

In 1903 she would start the Paris-Madrid race. Which she would enter with a proper racing car, a works 5.7-litre de Dietrich car. It was a chaotic race with 207 competitors which unfortunately saw several deaths. Camille started in 29th and gained 9 positions in the first 120 km. She had climbed up to P8 before stopping to give medical aid to a fellow driver, Phil Stead (also driving a de Dietrich) involved in a near-fatal crash.

Camille du Gast in her 30 hp De Dietrich with starting number 29 during the 1903 Paris-Madrid Race

Later one of the leading drivers at that time, Charles Jarrot said that if Camille had not stopped Stead likely would have died. After an ambulance arrived she continued the race eventually finishing 44th or 45th in the shortened race.

The French government would stop the race at Bordeaux, as over half of the field (275 cars) had either crashed or retired and several drivers and spectators had died.

Open road racing was banned, so in 1904 Camille wanted to participate in the French elimination trial for the Gordon Bennett races, as the Benz factory team offered du Gast a race seat. But the Autosport Club France (ACF) banned women from racing. Du Gast published a letter in protest but the ban was defended as the ACF could not risk a woman getting injured or killed in a racing event.

Because of this she ventured to boat racing. One of those races was caught by a big storm which saw most competitors either abandon their ship or they sank. She was rescued and later declared the winner of that race.

Eventually she had to put a halt to her adventurous life when she survived an assassination attempt by her daughter. Nothing was ever the same for her after that. From that point she devoted herself to animals. She would serve as president of the 'French Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals'

NEXT UP > More female racing drivers from the early 1900s

[myaverageartblog]

🎶 Congrats to BAE! The legendary champion! 🎶

[ocean--toast]

I was gonna not make this post but it's gnawing at me from the inside

This is entirely unprompted

I think that the reason that I can't ship Akechi with just Joker is because whether or not he means to he does and can have deep, meaningful interactions with the other phantom thieves that are just as interesting as with Joker. There's nothing that's by necessity just interesting about their relationship that isn't interesting about the others.

What Akechi is to me, narratively, is a mirror that reflects whatever the thieves dislike about themselves the most. Like for Ryuji it's how quick he is to anger and how he feels like he has something to prove, for Ann it's that desire for revenge that sits under the surface of her skin that she never shows, for Yusuke there's so much that we would be here all day because they are so fundamentally similar in so many ways, for Haru it's the way he gets used by everyone in his life just like her and for Sumire they both pretend to be someone they aren't in order to be liked

I just think there's a lot of potential in making the other thieves look at themselves through Akechi in the same romantic lens that's put so heavily on joker and I think that Akechi should be making out sloppy with the thieves that I listed about it

[gellavonhamster]

I am the sea and nobody owns me

[syrasenturi]

She

[peachcandraw]

ok but mary ann is so real because if someone burned my beloved stuffed animal (that i'm assuming she's had since she was a kid) i too would absolutely lose my fucking shit

[veeta-cuculidae]

its interesting to me how everyone’s wishes in persona 5 royal have to do with the catalyst for their rebellion. like ryuji getting to live in a world where kamoshida doesn’t break his leg and force him off the track team, or yusuke where his sensei doesn’t betray him, doesn’t plagiarize. they get to skip those moments that revealed how unfair the world is, that made them want to fight back.

so logically joker’s wish should involve his false conviction. it should involve that event which forced him to transfer schools, to live in a store attic, to be labeled by everyone he met as a delinquent, a criminal. but even in a perfect world, all of that remains unchanged. he accepts that that experience Made him Something, that it was for the better in that it let him be a phantom thief, got him to meet all his friends.

no, to joker, the real thing that betrayed the world’s unfairness was akechi dying. akechi’s circumstances, being used by shido for years and then being discarded the moment shido didn’t have use for him anymore, the fact that akechi not only didn’t get the revenge he committed himself to when he was just a kid but therefore also didn’t get the opportunity to move on from it, is the one thing joker couldn’t stand. and it’s not just that joker wanted akechi to go to jail in his stead, because notably, akechi isn’t actually in jail in the third semester.

really, joker just wanted to see akechi again. he wanted to see him again because he loved him.

[shallowseeker]

Cas is always leaving for urgent reasons, for big important quests or missions.

But here, oh here... it couldn't be more different.

And Dean tries SO hard to ask him to stay.

///

When Cas comes into his room, Dean starts opening up immediately. And clearly, he wants to keep talking to Cas here, to sit down and rest, to hang out together!

Dean must be so exhausted, post-demon-withdrawal. I mean. He's been pretty much off his head for months, really ever since Mr. Cuthbert and Cain.

But now Dean... humanity again. Anne-Marie "humanity"'s words put into motion his journey back. He's back on the side of humanity, even on his own side of the bed.

///

One of the things that sticks out is the subconscious body language in the next bit. Dean subconsciously drifts from his normal side of the bed...

...to the other side, the pizza side, the side with the fan, the side with the tall "dancing" lamp.

On his way, he nervously fiddles, clearing the books off the "Cas" side like he doesn't quite know what to do with his hands during this conversation.

///

Dean airs his fears and anxieties, and he and Cas fall into easy, comfortable banter. They make each other "whuff" with laughter... even smile.

When Cas smiles, it triggers some responses.

Dean starts swallowing and shifting his eyes. Then he attempts to say something meaningful: "I'm glad you're here."

*trying* *trying*

///

And in response to this? Cas starts to leave. Ouch! He even drifts backwards within-frame.

<- <- <- <-

Then he turns around. :(

BUT THEN!

CAS turns back around, almost like he doesn't want to leave either. But he puts back on his game face, his "duty" face. He's perpetually in mission mode, like he told Hannah before.

Meanwhile, Dean is at first hopeful when Cas turns back around, but then...

Then to Dean, he shows care, telling him he should get some rest.

CAS: "Hey, maybe you should, uh... take some time. Rest up before you go back to work."

While Cas tells Dean to take some time off, it's clear Cas himself has no plans of resting. Cas seems to "never sleep" and is seemingly perpetually traveling the road of work.

If Dean is a roadrunner-desperado, never stopping to settle down, Cas is that to the power of 10,000. But not JUST on the road but in the air, too. An unreachable flight pattern.

...

And as Dean listens, his heart squeezes a little, maybe. The timing might be "right."

But not that kind of timing.

Because, if "Heaven and Hell are reasonably back in order," as Cas says, and if it's "quiet out there...."

Then, if Cas won't stay NOW? He won't stay ever.

And...

Dean is left looking a little dazed, a little lost. :(

("Oh.")

(nodding a little to himself)

[myokk]

It's a clear, beautiful summer's day, the type of day that starts out bright and full of birdsong, that ends looking up at the stars and the moon while crickets chirp and fireflies show soft bursts of light. When the air is warm and full of life and the smell of hot grass and lavender and honey permeates everything.

The whole summer had been like that, really. Running outside with abandon, chasing each other through the tall grass deliriously happy and lying down in the fields surrounding their village, watching the clouds float by while they eat cucumber sandwiches. It's the summer before their first year at Hogwarts; the Sallow twins know that their life's about to change and are determined to enjoy their last summer of childhood.

Maybe they're too old for this sort of thing - they are eleven, after all, but both of them know that this summer is a turning point for them and they want to cherish every moment for as long as possible. Their parents have been encouraging them, often sending them out for the whole day, piling journals and ink and quills and picnic baskets full of food in their hands, encouraging them to research and be curious about the world around them as they had always done.

This day, however, their parents are almost eager to push the twins out of the house. Their mum's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. Sebastian feels nervous about this, but doesn't realize why until much later, when the memory is analyzed and remembered during his dreams. (definitely not while awake). When they leave the house in the morning, she makes sure to kiss each of them on the cheeks which she normally never does and Sebastian pushes her away in disgust, much to his future horror. In the moment, all he can think is that he might still be holding on to the last moments of his childhood, but he's too old to be kissed by his mum.

(but now, Sebastian doesn't know if his memory is faulty and he is adding moments that never actually existed in the first place. the mind is a tricky place)

He never allows himself to think about these halcyon days, the perfect-until-it-wasn't summer before they went to Hogwarts; this day in particular is forbidden to remember. His unconscious mind rebels against his iron will.

They spend the morning looking for the fairies that Anne had dreamed about the night before. She's convinced that it's a prophetic dream and they march around in circles in the little copse of trees - a forest to the two children, who haven't really ventured out of their village - as Anne tries to remember where she had seen the fairies in her dream.

Sebastian is happy to follow her even if (maybe especially if) he thinks it's a futile adventure - what else are summer days for?

They're in that strange junction between childhood and adolescence; desperate to just grow up already and become the people they were always meant to be, and yet just wanting to spend their days being kids, without a care in the world.

"Come on, Sebastian," Anne calls to him, a tiny stream gurgling between them. In one hand, she's holding the map that she drew as soon as she woke up; in the other, boots stuffed with her stockings.

Sebastian huffs as he trudges behind her, arms full with their bags, his shoes, and the picnic basket. Anne had offered to help him carry things, but he refused on principle. Their dad is always doing small things like this for the women in his life, and Sebastian wants to be just like him.

Anyways, Anne has her own role as the leader today, and it won't do to have her bogged down.

And he's eleven, more than old enough to carry everything.

He steps through the tiny creek, mud and slush squishing through his toes, and he smiles. There isn't anything he loves more than being outside, except maybe being outside with a good book.

"Keep your eyes peeled for a tree with a knobby trunk, with lots of knots that look like faces," Anne tells him, glancing over her shoulder, then turns her face back to her map and scrunches up her face. "In my dream, the fairies lived nearby."

They spend the rest of the morning continuing their fruitless search, laughing as they walk in circles, then set up their picnic in the field next to their house.

"What do you think Hogwarts will be like?" Anne asks, a dreamy look on her face.

Sebastian doesn't look at her when he answers. He lies back and stares at the clouds. They've already had this conversation hundreds of times since their Hogwarts letters arrived, both of them have their parts memorized. "Amazing. I can't wait to actually be able to use our magic instead of just reading about it."

Anne rolls to her side and props herself up on her elbow, getting a better look at her brother's face. With a smirk, she says, "I think I'll like Transfiguration the best. I can't wait to be able to turn you into a -"

A huge noise interrupts her before she can continue. Sebastian sees the confusion in her face before he truly registers that something has happened. It's like everything's moving in slow motion and all he remembers clearly whenever he dreams of this day are his feelings of confusion and disbelief and the smell of fire.

There's a huge explosion and the air is full of smoke and he and Anne are scrambling up, the picnic blanket tangled up around their bare feet and -

Hand in hand they run in the direction of the huge black smoke that is billowing up. It coats the air - they can't see anything and the smell of burning fills their noses and the smoke fills their lungs and they're coughing coughing coughing -

Sebastian doesn't want his sister anywhere near the blackened husk of their former house but he is also terribly afraid to be alone. They stand in the middle of what used to be their house, blackened half-walls, charred wood that used to be their table, the old couch they read on every night, it's all smoldering, all gone, the thick black smoke making his eyes water and choking and smothering everything in its wake. His mind can't comprehend what he's seeing. Everything is so familiar and yet so wrong.

He doesn't know how long he and Anne stand there, clutching each others' hands like they are a tether to reality. Which, he supposes, they are. They might be there thirty seconds, ten minutes, one hour, an eternity...

Then, neighbors are running to the twins, coughing, covering their faces in the crooks of their elbows as they conjure blankets with their wands and wrap Sebastian and Anne up and drag them out of what is - was - their home.

This part is always hazy. Sebastian can't remember if he cries. Or if he even says anything. He just stands there with Anne, the smoke thick and oppressive as it pours out of their house. Everything is crumbling apart.

(A hand gently caresses his scalp, fingers light and reassuring as they dance through his hair)

Their neighbors try their hardest to salvage what they can. The daguerrotype that their mother had cherished more than anything, taken a few years before, miraculously survives. Sebastian stares at it, the tiny figures moving and laughing and smiling as though everything is perfect. He wants to throw it and break it or maybe rip it up to shreds but he can't bring himself to do anything but stare.

Their father's wand is also shoved into Sebastian's hand, unscathed. It was found just outside of his father's curled fingers, lying pristine on the ground as if mocking the destruction that it caused.

At some point, their Uncle Solomon, who they've only really seen once a year growing up, shows up with a loud crack and tears through the rubble, tears carving wet tracks through the soot on his face. His voice goes rough with desperation and when he walks up to the two orphans, he is almost unrecognizable.

As if in slow motion - maybe an after-effect of the curse that has destroyed their lives is that the air has turned into molasses - Sebastian watches his uncle stagger over to them. He looks much older than Sebastian remembers.

Later, when Sebastian looks at his reflection in the mirror of his new home, the boy staring back at him also looks much older than he remembers.

Before It Felt Like A Sin, Chapter 14

[personallyfive]

jealous

[amphibia-a-day]

Day 1087 of Amphibia Screenshots

Episode: The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers