#she’s all skinny jeans and like… three pairs of shorts

[chloepleasestopdying]

I love that neither Max or Chloe are super girly by the way. The comics make Max more feminine but you can’t convince me that Max would wear a dress to anything other than a formal event and mostly because she feels like she has to. Chloe has the vibe of a girl that threw a FIT over having to wear dresses as a kid and hasn’t worn a dress or skirt in years.

[wol-fica]

-𝕊𝕙𝕖-

pairings - jennaortega x fem!reader

summary - before jenna ortega became a huge actress and held the world in her hand, she only had you

warnings - angst, high schoolers lol, all characters are 18 and up :)

an - school au! senior year for these babies, new series?

—————————

You hooked up with Jenna Ortega.

Big statement to say, but it’s very very true. How it happened though, well that’s a long story. It dates back to when you were both seniors in highschool….

———Past———

You were a dream girl; straight A's, decently pretty, wasn't talkative yet everyone ended up having a conversation with you, just all around good. You were the girl everyone wanted to be friends with, the girl that guys would fawn over and other girls would envy for your vigorous reputation. But alas, that's only the shell that people saw.

In reality, you were someone a mom would scold you for hanging out with because you’re so risky. When you were nine, you climbed a telephone pole and did the macarena sitting on top of it. At fourteen, you somehow hot wired your fathers car and proceeded to crash it, breaking only a toe. And now, at the ripe age of eighteen, you have caused your entire family to move from Miami to Coachella Valley; what a big jump.

It wasn't your intention to almost burn down the school just because you got into a fight and your first defensive measure was to whip out a lighter attached to a can of hairspray and try to turn poor Greta Stone into a Doctor Phil look-a-like just because she called your brother a fag.

You liked to say it was an accident.

But expulsion was given and boy were your parents angry, so angry that they hopped a few states and ended up in a small town full of party people.

Your brother, Theo, was so disappointed in you that he called you a "queer failure".

"I am not a 'Queer Failure'!" You snarled, mocking your brother's voice.

"But you are, and that is a tragedy." Theo replied, his nose buried in a picture of Rob Lowe.

He was already engorged in a magazine from the local drug store that he didn't even realize he was spilling his Pepsi, which you found of the utmost amusing.

"Will both of you please stop bickering? You've been nipping at each other for so long you didn't even notice we are here." Your mother said, scolding you both..

You peered out the window, your y/e/c eyes focusing on the large familiar building. It was already busy with people, some rushing through the doors while others loitered around their cars and by the bike parking area.

You frowned, but got out of the car with your usual calm demeanor. Theo followed suit, hopping out with what he would call a 'gay swing', and strutted off into the ocean of high-smoked teenagers to presumably get a buzz.

"Behave, okay? I don't want a call again." Your mother said through the car window, smiling warmly at you.

"I'll try mom." You replied, leaning down to kiss her cheek before you walked off.

It was a normal thing for teachers to call home about your behavior; you always ended up being reckless and snappy with everyone and everything you come across. 

But that's just how you are.

With your bag loosely hung over your shoulder and your head held high, you lazily walked towards the school, ignoring the looks you received from passersby.

See, your wardrobe was different from most girls. You didn't wear any of the typical sundresses or skinny jeans with floral shirts, you wore guys clothes, nike shorts with hoodies and converses, no matter the weather. Not trying to peg yourself as ‘i’m not like other girls’, but you were definitely a heavy masc.

As you walked in, you noticed a pair of three girls ogling a guy walking past. He had blonde curly hair styled back into a mullet, with matching denim jacket and jeans, and a white button down. A cigarette hung loosely between his lips, completely disregarding school rules as he went towards the parking lot.

'Typical lazy fuck.' You thought as you passed by.

You eventually made it into the school, and proceeded to head straight for your locker as you didn't need any interaction with anyone here. You fumbled with the lock and it's nerving combination before successfully opening it. You took out your assortment of books and binders, placing them neatly on the top shelf before hanging up your backpack.

You were so engrossed in organizing your locker that you almost missed a certain latina girl walking out of the bathroom. Your eyes snapped to her and followed her down the hall to three lockers down from your own.

That girl was Jenna Ortega, the prime jewel of your highschool, or so you liked to think. She was drop dead gorgeous in your opinion, with wavy brown hair that framed her beautifully freckled face, chocolate brown eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, and slightly tanned skin that looked warm and inviting. She was the girl that you first fell in love with, and probably the last.

You first met Jenna when you were outside fixing your bike in the driveway; Jenna happened to go a different route on her morning walk and had noticed you working your ass off in the California sun. She stopped to say hello and introduced herself seeing that you were new to the neighborhood.

Ever since that day, you couldn't stop thinking about her.

Jenna’s heart belonged to no one, but that still didn’t mean should or even could make a move.You didn't mind, it was actually easier to just admire and imagine instead of embarrassing yourself with a potential rejection.

Doesn’t mean that you still yearned to be with her.

"Hey Y/n!"

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a voice you knew almost instantly, your body turning to the short girl.

"Hey Jenna." You replied smoothly, though your heart was running forty miles a second from the voice of a girl who could easily end your life with a wink.

“How was your weekend?” She asked, looking up at your with the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, “Was it enjoyable?”

“Meh, it was alright.” You said, grabbing your binder out of your locker, “How was yours?”

“It was relaxing, just what I needed.”

You hummed and nodded, reaching down to grab your water bottle, “Did you need something from me?”

"I was wondering if you had anything to do after school today? I need to study for my chemistry quiz and you are the only person who I trust to help me get it done." Jenna asked, toying with her fingers.

Truthfully, Jenna didn't need help studying for her chemistry test, she actually didn't need help studying at all due to the fact that there wasn't a chemistry test. She just wanted to spend time with her friend, the one she couldn't get her mind off of for some reason.

See, she found you to be one of the utmost unique. From your cinnamon brown skin, to your silky hair that was always pulled back into the cutest pony tail. Jenna saw you as the prime reason to why she questioned her sexuality.

But she wouldn't tell you that, she wouldn't tell anyone that.

"Uh...sure, I don't have anything to do today." You muttered, shutting your locker.

"Awesome! Want me to drive you there?" Jenna asked, smiling brightly, which you found entirely cute.

"Whatever works best for you."

Jenna whooped and threw her arms around your neck, burying her face in your green sweater. She loved the smell of her undying crush, finding that your scent was that of coffee and morning air, far better than any candle or air freshener she could buy.

"I'll see you later!" She said, leaning back to smile at you for a moment before hurrying off to her first class.

You watched her go, smiling to yourself as the girl of your dreams waved to every person she saw. Times like these made you question whether love was a feeling or a curse, especially since your heart thumped for one of the most famous upcoming actresses ever.

What a predicament you were in.

——————————

taglist: @cartierdreamx@tundra1029@red1culous@vorsdany@andsoigotabutterfly@theafterofnevermore@yomomisgay@house-of-lovin@slvt4lanadelrey@thenextdawn@nepobaby08@dunohilly@somekindofpoet@alexkolax@cinffy23@pedrosprincess@amberfreemansburntface@myfturn

[bluemirrorangel]

  outsiders clothes(?) headcanons

I have outsiders' brainrot so here we go

as someone who's growing up in a similar financial situation as the gang I think a lot of the clothes the greasers wear a hand me downs or clothes from charity shops

the gang

the Curtis': all of their clothes come from their dad which works out pretty well for Darry because he fits in them pretty well, but Sodapop is shorter and skinnier so he has to cuff the jeans until he gets a job at the dx and can afford to buy his own. Ponyboy's a lot smaller than both of them so has to wear a belt with all of the jeans he gets given, and because of the belt they all become high-waisted his shirts hide it but they also come down to the mid-thigh. Shoes are a slightly different story though because none of them are the same size so they have to go to thrift stores.

Speaking of thrift stores Two-bit works at one. He gets a discount which he uses to buy novelty clothes for the others. he bought Darry a sweater that says "proud soccer mom" on it the gang finds it funny Darry does not. Two bit also gets given all the clothes they can't sell (he keeps some and gives the rest to Johnny)  whether it's because they're broken or stained or simply because no one wants them so Two-bit's entire closet is just full of ugly sweaters and Hawaiian shirts.

Steve's kinda the same as Sodapop in the way not all of his clothes fit him perfectly but good enough.     

       Dallas owns like six shirts (all bloodstained to some degree) and three pairs of jeans all of which have holes but he makes it work.

everyone has made it their responsibility to help Johnny out other than stuff from Two-bit he has old shirts from Ponyboy and a couple of too-big jackets from Dallas

The Shepherds: Tim's clothes come from questionable sources no one is sure if they even want to know.

Angela: she's the only shepherd who's closet isn't full of hand me downs but most of it is from thrift stores

Curly: all of his shirts are Tim's old ones and they are way too big so he tries to make them shorter by cutting them he cuts the sleeve's to make them muscle shirts but he miscalculates by a long shot and makes the cuts too big holes it's still wearable but it looks a little odd and he cuts them to make them shorter and it works but at what cost . He's also too skinny and short to fit in Tim's old jeans so he has to borrow Angela's until he can buy his own. 

    leave a ship or fandom suggestions and I’ll do headcanons for em if you want

[roses-for-rosalyn]

Try Me

Dealer! Ellie blurb 💅

This was just in my head and I couldn't get it out. It's the first fic I have ever posted so be nice please! Obviously about tlou2 Ellie. Sort of a one shot sort of not.

part 2

not proof read!!

word count: 1.4k

Minors DNI 🔞 pls!

warnings: no use of y/n, drug!use 🍃, dealer!ellie, fem! reader, pet names, dom! ellie sort of, modern au, a lot of swearing (duh), mentions of toys!, no smut (yet hehe)

┕━━━━━━━━━━━✿━━━━���━━━

Here you are again in front of the rust colored door you know all too well. Theres paint chipping in various places and three gold numbers reading "400". The numbers are tarnished with age and you stare at them while you think over the decisions that brought you here.

You are at your dealer's apartment, Ellie's apartment, not the usual meeting place for you to get your fix but god you were desperate. It had been a rough week for reasons you would absolutely not like to dwell on and you needed a sort of reprieve. On any other day you could have waited for Ellie to come to you. She usually drives over to your apartment and hands the prerolls off to you, but you were anxious and she said she wouldn't be able to drop it off until way later, unless you came to her. So here you are, probably for the third or fourth time this month. After you take a moment to reflect on your sad desperation you knock. Once, Twice.

The Door opens slowly to reveal Ellie in her usual battered skinny jeans, tank top, and flannel. You are confused as to why she has so much clothing on because it was hot as all hell. She must have a circulation problem or something if she can wear all of that in this heat. You’re in a pair of flannel pajama shorts and a t-shirt and even you’re sweating a little. Well, it could be nerves.

“Hi” you finally sqeak out.

“Hey” she replies looking you up and down. No doubt judging your rumpled state.

Ellie intimidates the shit out of you. She’s incredibly attractive and she can be very flirty which tends to catch you off guard. You usually just brush it off with a laugh and then lay awake at night wondering if she really meant it. You’re 90% sure she is messing with you because why would someone as beautiful as Ellie want anything to do with you. Like be for real.

Ellie breaks your train of thought.

“You just gonna stand there staring at me, or are you gonna come in?” You let out an awkward laugh and respond “yea sorry. Long day.”

“Me too. ’m fucking exhausted.” This surprises you a little and you wonder why she even acknowledged your text if that was the case. She could have told you tomorrow or even next week and you would have understood. It’s happened before.

She walks deeper into the apartment and you follow her in through a small hallway. There’s a kitchenette on the left with a fluorescent light over the sink and a small living space with an ancient couch and a TV. There’s a few lamps scattered around casting a soft warm light in the apartment. On the right is a doorway leading to what you would guess is her bedroom, though you’re not absolutely sure you’ve never been through there. Ellie walks through said doorway and disappears.

After you process your surroundings you realize why Ellie was wearing long sleeves and long pants: It was cold as fuck. Apparently Ellie likes living inside a fucking refrigerator. Jesus. You cross your arms in front of your chest and shiver a little. You picture the rest of your night: getting home, smoking, and using your vibrator until you fall asleep.

Ellie walks out of the room with a little ziploc bag of prerolls and stops just a little too far away. She hands the bag out to you so you have to walk towards her to try and grab it. She pulls it away and you look at her with what must be a confused look.

“If you stay here and smoke one of these with me I’ll give the rest to you for free” she says with a wicked smile.

“Sounds like a solid deal to me.” You smile back. You two weren’t really what you would consider friends, but you were friendly enough. You had watched movies and smoked with her in the past. She was nice to you, sometimes gave you free weed, and as an added bonus she was hot. You could use her company anyways.

“Beats doing the same thing at home alone I guess.” You add.

“You guess?”

“I mean yea..” you respond, wary of your word choice.

“I’m a fucking pleasure to be around of course you would rather be around me. Plus you’re pretty fun to play with. I like making you flustered.”

You make a sound that sort of resembles an “mhm” but it comes out so high pitched it’s almost a whine.

Ellie’s laughs “see what I mean.” she pauses, studying you intensely, you almost have to look away before she says “come on let’s watch a movie or something.”

You make your way over to the couch following Ellie's lead. When you sit down you immediately sink into the couch. The thing has to be at least 30 years old, but it was so comfortable. You turn to look at Ellie and she’s sitting with her legs open, her body leaned over with her elbows resting on her thighs. She grabs the joint from the coffee table and you watch her light up the joint and take the first hit. You watch the smoke escape from her lips and almost sigh.

"Aww you gonna make sure that shit isn't laced? just for me?" you say semi-jokingly. Although it's happened to you before (obviously not supplied by Ellie). Not fun.

"anything for you princess." she shoots back. Your cheeks grow pink at the nickname and you pray she can't tell in this dim lighting. Your eyes wander down to her bicep watching the muscles flex as she puts the joint to her lips. Shit you were staring, you quickly switch your gaze to study the small coffee table. There's a few empty soda cans and a half eaten bag of chips. You wonder if she had already smoked a little before this. Ellie hands you the preroll and you take a hit. You inhale deeply trying to get as much into your lungs as possible.

As you exhale you ask "You invite all your customers to smoke with you?" You've been curious for a while now because it seemed like a peculiar gesture for a dealer.

"Only the pretty ones." She looks at you with a smirk. You have no idea how to respond so you let out a sort of huff that was meant to be a laugh.

Ellie turns on some animated movie for entertainment. As you pass the joint back and fourth you feel the effects start to kick in. An unexplained smile tugs at your lips and a calmness makes it's way through your whole body.

You're not sure how much time has gone by, but you have both managed to finish the first joint. You look over at Ellie watching the glow of the TV bounce off her features. You trace your eyes down her face and stop for a moment at her lips and then down to her neck. You observe the way her thighs are spread open.

Nope. Nope, nope. Shit. You have to cross your legs as thoughts of Ellie invade your mind. Whatever you smoked had you wayy hornier than usual. It's fine you just need to make your way back home.

"I should make my way back home." you blurt out. Ellie looks at you confused.

"We literally just finished off the preroll and you already want to leave me?" she asks with a joking tone. "In all seriousness you are way to high to leave right now. Can you wait like 45 minutes for me pretty girl? That way I can get you home safe myself." Oh god another nickname.

"I think I can make my way back trust me. I know the way back home so well I'd have to be on a lot more drugs to forget." You insist. You would like nothing more right now than to go home and make yourself cum with your vibrator until you fall asleep.

"Is there something you need princess? I can probably get it for you here."

"I really don't think you can get me what I need." you are desperately trying to get her to let you leave. Why does she care about your well being so much?

"try me." she challenges.

You attempt to take a moment to try and think about your options here, but thinking is futile in your state of mind.

"I am extraordinarily horny and I would like to go home and remedy that with my vibrator." You admit, hoping it freaks her out enough to let you leave.

Ellie smirks and looks you directly in the eyes before saying:

"I can definitely help you with that here."

[mchlgayser]

YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!

starring: jude bellingham x female!reader

warning: mention of body part insecurity

author's note: hi babe! thanks for the request, I hope your wish is fulfilled and you are satisfied!!! Thx sm ILY ❤️❤️ xx & not proofread

the request: hi can i make a request? Can it be where the reader always wears clothes that are wayyyyy to big for her and one day jude asks why and she tells him she doesn't like her stomach b/c it's chubby while the rest of her body is skinny and he reassure her she's beautiful. If u can thank you. I hate this body 😒

requested by: @idreamtoliveinfantsy

song suggestion: everyone adores you (at least i do) by matt maltese

Jude woke up from his slumber feeling the other side of the bed unusually nippy, and you are nowhere to be seen. He stood up wearing his house slipper and make his way downstairs from the kitchen to the living room, the yard, your small library, and even your study room which are strictly prohibited to enter. He was confused that you are nowhere in sight. Normally you would sit either at the hall or the kitchen with your laptop playing chilly songs whilst you read your books.

He takes his phone and dials your number, it was three ringing before you picked up 'Jude?' You appealed, he smile just by hearing your breathy voice 'Hey, just wondering where are you right now?'

'I went out to buy some groceries, it's Saturday remember?' He let a realizing hum before he bops 'Alright, I guess I'll just wait for you then.' You hum before hanging up the call, Jude was a bit flabbergasted by your sudden change of attitude but pays no attention to it.

Thirty minutes passed away and you got home, you had three bags in hand 'Hey could you lend me a hand while I wash away these groceries.' He smiles 'Yeah sure!' He support by arranging the stocks on its place while you washes the beverages

He was done with his work for a minute so he took the chance and wrapped his arms around you with both of his hand under your hoodie, caging you.

You screeched pushing his hands away and backing from him 'What... Are you doing?' The poor boy is bewildered.

'I was just... Hugging you? ...Babe, what's wrong?' He take a step forward to you, you gulped eyes leaving his 'Nothing, I overreacted.' You confessed, you went up to him instead and he hugs you

'You scared me.' He mumbled, nuzzling even closer to your neck, you let a sharp breath when you sense his lip ghosting over your sensitive spot 'Jude, let go!' He giggles 'Sorry,' He left your neck a chaste kiss before he went back to his work

You too, did your job fastly and left for your study room.

It's been like this for a week or so and it's a lie if Jude says he doesn't notice a thing. He did notice you growing distant heck he even notice that all this days you've been wearing nothing but his clothes, that are like way bigger for you. You don't wear you comfy shorts too. Everytime you both go out, you would wear his oversized shirt and a pair of jeans.

You didn't even shower when he was in the same room too, you are foreign and today he decided to confront you about it.

As usual, you would be in your study room doing assignments and works. Jude wanted to enter the room but it was locked and he's been knocking non stop but you did not open the slightest so he wait.

He waits until you got out so he can talk it out with you. At seven you finally left the room, normally to do dinner so he rushed to you and scoop you in his arms, you squealed in surprise and laugh 'Jude what are you doing?' You exclaimed, hugging his neck 'I wanted to ask you something.' He serious tone brought a frown to your feature, already disliking the idea of talking.

You knew he would probably wanted to talk about your behaviors, yes you did notice your change of behavior but you haven't thought that Jude would notice it right away too 'I need to make dinner, Jude.' 'I don't need dinner. I need to talk to you, now.'

He gently put you down on the bed and you sighed, looking elsewhere 'Jude..'

'No.'

'I need to figure out what's been bothering you, babe, you've been acting strange.' You don't know why but you cry, you are overwhelmed by your feeling this past few days that you can't be helped but cry 'I... I hate myself. I hate myself so much Jude. I hate my stomach the most, I hate that it looks chubby and bloated. I wanna tear myself off and die. I know you told me everyday how good I look but it still can't change the way I'm seeing myself. I wanna feel pretty too, feel good and confident about myself but I can't and it hurts.' You sobs into his arms like a child.

'Come!' He ushered you to get up and lead you to the mirror but you insist 'No! Please don't. Jude no please! I don't wanna!' You begged at him with teary gapes

You buried your head to his chest in order for your eyes to not landed on the mirror, you'll feel helpless about yourself again 'Look! Look at me!' He forcefully grab your face to made contact with his eyes 'I love you and it broke me to see you like this. I want you to appreciate yourself more. Please do that for me...' He prayed

You shake your head, denying the idea and slumped to the ground 'I don't want to. I cannot see myself in the mirror Jude. I can't.'

He still scoop you up and get you to the mirror, you began to close your eyes and sobs 'No...'

'Look, you are so pretty.' You felt his arms around you, his fingers hooking between each under your shirt, he caressed your stomach making you slightly jump in surprise 'Open your eyes angel.' You hesitate to open but did as he said. He was smiling, looking down at you through the mirror and kiss the corner of your head gently

You cry a bit, both touch by his action and realization 'See...' You started out 'I look... Okay elsewhere but my stomach. I can even see through the shirt how ugly it looks.' You confided

He lift your shirt a bit and you hissed, Jude smile kissing your temple once again 'Let me...'

Your top are fully exposed, now only in top garments 'I love this.' He poked your fat 'It was comfy and warm. I love how I can nuzzle my face or my neck to your stomach and feeling comfy. I love how it look so beautiful on you. I love how you could still slay it every time. I love the fact that not even my pillow is as comfy as your stomach. I love you and it's including all your body parts, your scars, your birthmark. I love it all because it makes you, you.'

You cry again and this time because of his heart-touching words, you wrapped your arms around his neck and snuggle impossibly closer to him

'Thank you Jude, thanks so much.' He bring you even closer and plastered a small smile 'I love you angel, very, very much.'

[annlillyjose]

Rock Salt – WIP Intro

hello again! on today’s news, your girl has a new wip aka something to fixate on and mould her life around for the next couple of months (or years). and because i cannot keep any exciting news to myself, here’s a wip intro.

but before we head into that, here’s a little backstory to how it happened. i finished writing dairy whiskey, i worried about my brain being incapable of forming new book ideas, two to three days after i get this new book idea that i’m totally hooked on, struggles to find a name, names it, decides to go forward with it, so again, here it is – rock salt!

here are the specifics:

disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated. don’t be a pathetic loser.

genre: literary fiction

pov: first person retrospective

structure: probably going to be just full-length chapters

projected word count: 50k

concept: identical twins rain and norah move out of their family home for college where they purse two different degrees, live with different people in separate homes, and fall in troubles of their own. these begin to affect each other and they grow apart, being forced to navigate the the most confusing part of their lives – their shared existence as twins.

aesthetics/vibes: indigo skies, the beach, moths, seawater, salty breeze, chopping off one’s hair because existential crisis and queerness, lesbian relationships, house parties, fire, gloomy days where you feel like it’s going to rain but it doesn’t, cheap housing, bad grades, rotten food in the fridge, the moon, hanging plants, weed and local flowers

CHARACTERS

if you’ve heard these names before, no you haven’t, but again, they’re from twinepathy – the short story i wrote nearly three years back and scrapped afterwards. i tried to create new characters for this book but they feel like the perfect fit, so here they are.

norah

18

lesbian, she/they

her real name is eleanor

the protagonist and the narrator

studies political science

shoulder-length black hair, dark brown eyes, 5'3, skinny, wheat-coloured skin

always wears basic t-shirts or sweatshirts with a pair of mom jeans

distant, secretive, in constant disapproval of everything

strives on academic validation (and is being too hard on herself to bring in good grades)

rain

also 18

aroace, she/her

her real name is lorraine

studies painting and the applied arts

long black hair, dark brown eyes, 5'3, skinny, wheat-coloured skin

is a goofball, sunshine and rainbows, has a lot of friends, is extremely talented in her art, golden retriever energy with some drama to be unleashed

cannot keep her mouth shut so ends up in trouble with norah

don’t want to introduce them officially, because they’re not key characters, but here’s a little info on their older sisters –

harper

23

is called harp

is a high school geography teacher

engaged to her college boyfriend

oldest child in an asian household (i guess that’s saying enough)

violet

21

is called viv

the neglected middle child

in her last year of a nursing degree

wanted to study music but was too scared to bring it up to her parents and ended up being stuck at a hospital

plans to go abroad and marry a rich guy

well, that’s all i’ve got for you today. i haven’t started writing this book yet and i think i won’t until i finish editing dairy whiskey in august. i think i’ll start in september and then hopefully do nanowrimo for it in november. i’m super excited to work on it because it’s so different from dairy whiskey in a lot of aspects. but i’m discovery writing (as always) and we’ll just have to see where it goes. but until i come back with an update for this book, you take care, stay hydrated, water your plants, and eat a second dessert tonight.

– ann

general taglist (ask to be added or removed)

@shaonsim @heartfullkings @vnsmiles @dallonwrites @wannabeauthorclive @sienna-writes @violetpeso @flip-phones @silassghost @ambidextrousarcher @zoe-louvre @writing-with-l @magic-is-something-we-create @femmeniism @frozenstillicide @wizardfromthesea @rose-bookblood @coffeeandcalligraphy @rodentwrites @saltwaterbells @snehithiye @at-thezenith

[diamond-daisies-in-the-wind]

Postpartum Sucks

Postpartum actually sucks. 

Not to sound cliche, but NO ONE talks about postpartum and even those who do, don’t elaborate on the horror movie it actually is. Set aside the hair loss, the raging hormones and the obscene changes to your body, nothing compares to the mental strain that postpartum has on a new mom. Think of a blender filled with rusty nails and oranges and trying to make something useful with that; that’s what postpartum is. 

The Physical Changes No One Warns You About

The physical aspects of postpartum like hair loss, body changes, and hormonal shifts are glossed over and it seems like every influencer has just the right tips and tricks to get you to “bounce back” to your pre-pregnancy body but the only thing that’s “bouncing” is the loose skin that dangles over my c-section scar. I was relatively healthy, and I wouldn’t label myself as “skinny queen”, but I was happy with what I looked like, and I didn’t care much about others opinions. However, pregnancy destroyed my entire stomach area with purple and pink tiger stripes that run across my entire abdomen. I used to confidently stand in front of my husband in my birthday suit but lately, I feel the strong desire to wear an actual suit to hide what I think are my imperfections. I personally didn’t experience much hair loss, however my body changed so drastically. My hips are wider now than they were before which makes finding clothes impossible. I’m stuck with buying clothes that are two or three sizes too large just so I can accommodate my raging curves. I have been able to find two pairs of jeans that fit nicely, and I treat them as if they are religious artifacts meant to be worshiped. I refuse to buy any more jeans for myself because the task of having to go to a store, look for jeans that I think fit, and then try them on just to be disappointed over and over again is disheartening and I refuse. There once was a youtuber who lived her best life in leggings and refused to wear jeans at all costs; I will do the same. I don’t want to care about how my body looks to others and the thing I struggle with the most is associating the person I see in the mirror to the person I see in myself. Right now, they are two different people judging each other without actually getting to know each other. How do I restore these relationships between my sense of self? I haven’t the answer to that question but one day I think I’ll be able to look back and wonder why I cared so much... 

Leaning On My Supports 

Postpartum is a heavy task that every woman must face and not having a good support system can really be the downfall to success. Now, I can’t speak for everyone because there are some things that I didn’t experience that most do. I have a really good support system on both sides of the family. My mother, though she can be abrupt at times, is always willing to help, even if it’s just sitting with my son. My father helped and still helps on occasion with little financial struggles. My husband and I knew there would be added expenses to having a baby and we were confident that this burden would be easy to take hold of, but we weren't expecting my sudden job change. There was a short period where my husband and I couldn’t afford groceries or bills and my father chipped in. He sent us money just in case and gave us that financial support that most people don’t receive. Moreover, my mother and father-in-law are the kindest people to ever exist and though they could not easily be at my house without a long drive, they helped by buying us diapers, formula, and different necessities so that my husband and I didn’t have to worry, further loosening that financial burden. I know that not everyone has these supports in place, and I am and will always be eternally grateful for their support. This isn’t a moment where I am gloating about the things that I have but appreciative that I do have these supports that can lift some burden off me and my husband’s shoulders. 

The Mental Toll 

With my family’s support, it allowed me to take a deeper dive into my mental health, however, in my exploration of who I am, I ended up getting stuck. Even now, I feel the sticky slime at the bottom of my shoes, reminding me that negativity is always there. The mental aspect of postpartum really took a toll on my sense of self. I’ve always struggled with my anxieties but over the years, I was able to manage well with breathing exercises, mediation, and support from my husband. However, all of that had to be thrown out the window. I can no longer just breathe it out when I’m feeling overwhelmed; I'd go blue. There is no time for meditation, any of my free time is spent taking care of the baby or doing chores around the house. My husband is also trying to stay afloat with the added responsibility of taking care of another human while still managing his online classes and going to work. There were countless nights where I felt stuck and all I could do was disassociate myself from reality. 

One night in particular really stuck with me the most because I was enshrouded in a wet black veil of depression that I couldn’t take off. My son was particularly needy that night and wouldn’t sleep unless he was being held by me. My husband was asleep bedside me and I was growing increasingly angry at the sight of his peace. I decided to abscond from our room and sit on the rocking chair in my son’s nursery. There I sat, rocking back and forth, thinking of all the decisions I made in my life that led me to that moment. Thinking about how nothing I did was good enough for the high expectations I had set for myself. All I could do was rock back and forth, shushing my baby, lulling him to sleep, watching his precious eyelids fall into serenity as fear filled my body with no outlet of release to not wake him. 

I rocked back and forth, trapped in a state that was both soothing but suffocating, each movement a pendulum swing between numbness and despair. Time felt elastic, as if the night would stretch on forever. With every rock back and forth, my mind retreated to its inner most depths where only darkness resided. The house was deathly quiet, the soft pulse of air from the fan humming. I could feel the electrical vibrations through my skin as I stared at the shadowed walls encasing me in a prison of solitude and sadness. His peace was more important and all I could do was sit in the depths of my brain, reliving moments in my life that I wish I could change. Fixated on everything I should have done or said to those around me. The choices I made, the things that I could never change. Was this where I truly was meant to be? A heavy blackness hung over me, pressing down like a thick fog, unyielding. The hands of darkness caressing my neck and back, putting strain on my already overstimulated body. Every dark thought, a weight that pulled me deeper, making it hard to break. There was no escaping the cacophony of worries; am i a good mother? Am i a good wife? Am i a good daughter? Am i a good sister? Am I good enough? 

The rocking chair became my prison, the cushions of the chair were meant to provide comfort and warmth, but in that moment, I felt a heaviness inside me that was crushing my soul. While my son rested in absolute peace, my mind was a whirlwind of chaos, storming through my being with self-doubt, anxiety, and fatigue. Eventually, my son’s steady breaths lulled me out of my despair, the rising sun illuminating the ominous shadows. With every step that dawn took, it brought me back to my reality, though I continued to rock back and forth, holding the little I had of myself, I knew that I had to rise soon and face a new day. I knew that I had to subdue these oiled thoughts and cast them aside because I had to be there. I could not allow myself to flail in a pit of nothingness because there were those who relied on me. As the birds quietly chirped and the morning dew sat on the lawn, I clawed myself a window, just big enough to allow some light into my darkened world. I’m still there sometimes, rocking back and forth but instead of holding my sleeping baby, I’m holding onto the person I used to be, trying to figure out how to be that person again while also moving on to the new phase in my life. I have carved away most of the darkness that took over, but it’s still there. In every step I take forward, I can still feel the oil beneath my feet, reminding me that at any moment I can easily slip right back. 

Losing Myself and Finding HER Again 

No one talks about that... the fact that when you become a mother, you lose a part of yourself that you loved. You become a caretaker, preventing fires and putting band aids on things that require stitches. Pushing all those negative thoughts and emotions into a trunk and throwing them in the ocean, hoping that you never see them again. But it’s there... it lurks in the back of your head, and you have to figure out how to just be. 

It’s been a few months since that eventful night, and I’ve had time to reflect on where I was to who I am now. I can’t confidently say that I have escaped that dark nursery, rocking back and forth, but I am able to escape more easily now. Returning to work has helped distract me from those anxieties but I still haven’t found my identity. Going back to work allows me to be who I was before, which makes me feel guilty because there’s a subtle pleasure in not having to put all my attention into taking care of my son. I love my son, and I strongly believe that my purpose is to be his mother, but the small doses of freedom keep me alive. 

To the Mothers Who Feel Alone

I want this to be an insight for those mothers who struggled or are struggling; subdued to the strong emotions and trying to forget and move on to something that is totally different than what was known before. I want this to be a trek into the unknown that we take on together and hopefully, this could alleviate some stress in at least one person, knowing that they aren’t alone. Motherhood itself is a task that cannot be taken on by anyone. I will admit that most of the beginning of motherhood is checking off boxes on your to-do list and maintaining that structure like taking your child to doctor's appointments, making sure they had enough food for the day, giving them baths, and maintaining a livable environment. It’s the emotional aspect of it that tears you down. Yes, you can feel accomplished by doing the easy things, but regaining who you were is a tough road that every mother goes through. I’m not just a mother... I’m a person with hobbies and interests and desires. I don’t feel that I have completed my transformation, life doesn’t allow anyone to really meet their peak but there has to be some peace along the way. Balancing how to be a mom, a teacher, a wife, and an individual is how I’m going to find my own peace and give myself the opportunity to say goodbye to the “she” who used to be mine. 

[ghouletteanon]

Mushy May: Day 7 - Compliments

It's already been a week. Wow. Prompt list can be found here, curated by the marvelous @forlorn-crows .

Relationship: Cirrus/Cumulus, referenced Cirrus/Cumulus/Sunshine

Summary: Cumulus is feeling insecure about her body but has the support of her mate.

Word count: 848

Rating: light M

Content warnings: Body insecurities

Spring had turned into summer and weather permitted wearing fewer layers, the inhabitants of the ministry no longer lived in oversized sweaters and winter robes, and everyone had shed layers of unnecessary clothing. Cumulus herself had taken to crop tops and high waisted skinny jeans, thinking she looked cute. Cirrus looked absolutely stunning in her perfectly applied make-up and flowing dresses, blouses and trousers, Sunshine was adorable in her colorful shirts and ever-changing wardrobe as she was still trying to find her style.

Cumulus had overheard the siblings compliment the other ghoulettes, talking in hushed tones about how attractive they found the ghoulettes when they thought Cumulus couldn’t hear. It was not that the siblings had said anything bad about her, but it was more that they had not said anything about her. Not even a “nice tits”.

Cumulus takes in her reflection in the full body mirror in the corner of the room the three ghoulettes share. She thinks she looks cute, but doubts start creeping in. They had tried on the new tour clothes last night, and Cumulus had become increasingly annoyed when her clothes needed to be modified. Again. The shorts she sleeps in hug her thighs, making her ass look amazing. Or so she thought. The shorts look loose and casual on Sunny whenever she borrows them. Her t-shirt is soft and well-worn, but the sleeves are still tight in a way she knows they aren't on Cirrus. Perhaps she should change her style and wear shirts that show more cleavage again. She always got compliments when she did it.

Cumulus is too distracted by her thoughts to notice Cirrus sneaking up on her from behind. Her soft paws did not make a sound, steps even more muffled by the fluffy carpet. Cirrus sneaks an arm around Cumulus’ waist, kissing the side of her face before their eyes meet through the mirror. She rests her head on Cumulus’ shoulder, moving Cumulus’ long hair aside so she can see her properly. “What’s going on, ‘Lu?”

“Do I look nicer when my tits are out?” Cumulus asks, balling up the hem of her shirt in her hands. “Cropped and loose t-shirts have been easier to handle in the nursery, but…”

“You always look nice,” Cirrus insists playfully, but gets serious when Cumulus sighs and rolls her eyes in annoyance. “I love your tits, love the way they feel when I hold them and how they spill out from your shirt when you’re feeling cheeky. But your comfort is more important. When you cover them it’s all the nicer when I get to undress you.”

“It just isn’t practical with the kits climbing all over me,” Cumulus mutters when Cirrus starts kissing her neck and her thumb lazily pets her side.

“But that’s not all, is it?” Cirrus pauses with her lips still on her mate’s skin, looking Cumulus right in her eyes through the mirror. “Something is bothering you.”

“Finding a fitting pair of jeans in a style that I want has been impossible. And the new tour shirts are too tight around the arms if I don’t upsize and then they look like a tent on me and don’t show off my boobs and waist like I want. And the trousers look good on the boys, but they just hide my curves. I want to feel good on stage but…”

“Oh,” Cirrus considers her words, leaving Cumulus waiting nervously on what her mate is going to say. It’s like waiting for judgment, even if Cumulus knows her mate loves her unconditionally. “The seamstress will make the changes so we can perform. But you know clothes are overrated.”

“Easy for you to say,” the bitter words escape Cumulus’ lips before she can help herself and the floodgates are open. She tries to hide the way her eyes are tearing up with her hands, but she suddenly can’t stop. “You and Sunny can find clothes wherever you want. I only have two pairs of trousers I like, and they will inevitably get holes in the thighs and then I need to fix them and they never look as good…”

Cirrus turns Cumulus around so they’re facing each other properly. She takes Cumulus’ face in her hands, wiping away tears from her cheeks with her thumbs. “Cumulus, darling, look at me. It’s not your fault that humans are stupid about bodies. You’re gorgeous no matter what you wear, and I will mend your jeans myself if that’s what it takes.”

“I’m sorry, this is so silly,” Cumulus hiccups as she tries to control her breathing. She’s an air ghoulette who sings her heart out on stage on the regular. She should be better at controlling her voice, but she’s always found it difficult when she’s overcome with emotions. “I’m supposed to enjoy this body, but it’s been difficult lately.”

“Want me to remind you how much I enjoy your body, hmm?” Cirrus asks, giving Cumulus time to decline but she continues when Cumulus nods. “Let me show you how beautiful I find you and how wrong humans are.”

[elleaitch22]

Chapter 1

“Ma!” She screamed crawling towards the limp body. “MAMA!” She continued, curling her body around hers. Her eyes were blank; nothing was there. She’s gone.

She heard a cough and a wet gasp behind her. “Ri,” the weak voice called as she turned around.

“Daddy,” She cried, her eyes blurring with tears. “Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me all alone.” She wept.

“Love you babygirl.” He smiled, gasping with each word. “Make me proud, Rianna.”

His chest was still, no longer rising and falling with the life that filled them. “NO! Dad! Daddy please! NO!”


She shot up quickly, heart pounding in her ears. It’s just a dream. You’re safe. You’re fine. Just a dream. She reminded herself as she forced her lungs to fill with air. So much for getting a full night of sleep. She scoffed as she rolled over and looked to see what time it was. 2:39 a.m. The phone light almost blinded her, making her even more frustrated than before.

As she laid in her bed, she went over the answers she would be giving in her interview later that day. It certainly wasn’t the most lucrative option, but hopefully she would get the job. If everything goes as planned, she would be babysitting a two and five year old within the next three days.

From the short conversations she’d had with Ayo and Aneka Buhle, they just needed childcare for their little ones as Aneka was going to be returning to work. They would be meeting at some coffee shop called Verve, which sounded too expensive, but they wanted to pick the location, so Riri agreed to the first thing they offered.

When the sun started rising and the rays began to peak through Riri’s crappy blinds, she forced herself to get up and find an outfit.

The Buhle’s had said that this was a casual interview, just to be sure that Riri was the right fit. She pulled out a pair of black skinny jeans and a black turtleneck. To add some color, she went with an oversized hot pink cardigan and a pair of white Converse. She took down her Bantu knots and fluffed them out, deciding on a side part. She finished her look with some gold jewelry to compliment the chain and wedding rings she never took off.

Once her phone dinged to notify her that her Uber had arrived, Riri swiped on some Carmex, put her AirPods in, and walked out the door.

The ride to the coffee shop wasn’t too bad, in terms of LA standards. Despite it not even being 7 a.m., there were still lots of people on the roads. As they pulled up, Riri left a five star review, noting that the driver was friendly, even though he said nothing to her.

She walked in quietly, taking in her surroundings; incidents from her past had left her extremely scarred and constantly on edge.

“Ms. Williams.” She heard a voice call out. Riri turned her head to her left, and there they were. Ayo and Aneka were seated at a table with four chairs, looking as poised and regal as one could in a coffee shop.

Riri walked to the table wearing a small smile before she took her seat. “Good morning,” she began cheerfully, “I am happy we are finally meeting in person.”

The couple smiled at her warmly, “As are we.” One said with an accent. “I am Aneka, and this is my wife, Ayo.”

Aneka had a warm accent, like she was from the Caribbean or maybe Africa. Riri wondered if her wife shared the same accent.

“Thank you both so much for taking the time to meet with me.” Riri wore a bigger smile this time.

Ayo smiled lightly and straightened her back. “We were pleased with what we saw in your application. We just wanted to get a few answers before we officially offered you the job.”

Same accent! Riri thought to herself. “Well I am happy to provide you with a bit of background if you’d like.” When the women gestured, she continued. “My full name is Rianna Williams. I am 20 years old. I was born and raised in Chicago. I was previously studying chemical and mechanical engineering at MIT, but tuition was too steep to continue my education there. I am looking to save up so that I can finish my degree. I really love children, so I thought that being a nanny would be a good way to make money and help others.” Riri paused as she tried to think of anything else that would be necessary to the conversation. “I don’t have any allergies, that I know of. I love throwback shows like Living Single and Martin.” Why would you talk about your favorite shows??? That’s so dumb. Stay on topic and be professional.

“Martin is my favorite show!” Aneka exclaimed. “We have to hire her Ayo. I need my kids to be with someone who has taste.”

Ayo looked at her wife with fond eyes before turning back to Riri. “We will have to do a trial run with the children, but I believe you will be a great fit. We have two children, as you know. Our son’s name is Olufemi, Femi for short. He is two, though he is much calmer than his sister. He likes to read and cuddle, like me.”

“Thandiwe is five. We often call her Thandi or Love. She is loud and funny. She can be sneaky, at times, but she will never lie. She will want to play dress up to get out of her schoolwork, so you will have to be firm, or she will walk all over you.” Aneka describes her daughter with pride.

“Their names are beautiful,” Riri says with a smile. “Would I be able to meet them at some point this week? I want to make sure they are comfortable with me before there are any job offers or accepting.”

The two make eye contact, speaking in some sort of telepathic way, the same way Riri had seen her own parents communicate before they told her no.

“Of course,” Ayo began. “We could go now, if you are free, and discuss some of the other components of the job.”

The only thing Riri had planned today was to wallow in self-pity and figure out how she would be paying her rent if she different get this job. “That sounds great!”

The three women walked to a blacked-out Escalade parked on the side of the street. Before she could open the door to get in, another bald women opened the driver door and came around to welcome them into the backseat. Aneka slid into the front, while Riri and Ayo got into the back.

“Thank you, Nosipho.” Aneka addressed the woman. “Home, please.” She continued before she turned to Riri. “So, if you are a good fit with the children, and decide to accept the job, Nosipho will be your driver. Driving is already stressful enough, and we want our little ones as safe as possible at all times. If you agree, you will also be staying with us. Our jobs have unforeseeable issues that need our immediate attention at times, and it will take away the hassle of having to call you in. You will not be expected to do any of the cooking, cleaning, or other errands, unless you wish to do so. We will pay 1,000 dollars per week if you work from 8 to 6, but 2,500 if you decide to be a live-in nanny. You will have one day off each week if you desire. We will provide you with a new phone and anything else that you feel you may need to be happy.”

By the time Aneka had finished with her speech, Riri was reeling. $2,500 a week? That’s 10 grand every month! I can go back to school in no time! She’d thought to herself.

“We will be at our home shortly, so think on that while you are getting acquainted with the children.” Ayo spoke softly.

Riri could only nod her head as she replayed everything in her head. There has to be a catch. People are not like this for no reason. She thought. So what. You have good instincts. If this goes badly, you know how to get yourself out of sticky situations. Just wait a few months, stack your bread, and you’ll be free of it all before you know it.

They lived at that fancy Four Seasons apartment building, or Private Residences as the sign called them. The “apartment” was incredibly beautiful. It had the most amazing views. The children were adorable. Thandiwe showed Riri all of her favorite dresses and costumes, even forcing her little brother in them sometimes. Despite sticking to his moms, Olufemi eventually pulled a book out of the basket and wordlessly gave it to them.

“I would love to work for you.” Riri stated confidently. “If the offer is still on the table, I would like the fulltime option.”

Ayo and Aneka smiled at each other again sharing the same thought. Riri would be perfect for her. She would be perfect for them.

“Welcome to the family, Ms. Williams.”

A/N: super nervous and nauseous about posting my first fic. If you have any suggestions lmk pls!! I hope you enjoyed :)

[just-a-draco-girly]

The Secret - Chapter Three

CW: swearing

I shove my hands into the pockets of my black skinny jeans, as a cool breeze whistles past me. He should be here soon I think to myself. Gently rocking on the balls of my feet, I wonder what my best friend hopes to achieve by meeting me here… alone. An impatient sigh escapes my lips as leaves rustle gently. I turn to face the source of the sound and see Draco emerge from the bushes.

"Sorry that I'm late, but shaking Blaise and Goyle isn't exactly easy" He speaks, smiling down at me as he nears me. I nod, shuffling my feet slightly in a bid to keep myself warm against the cool autumn air.

"So what did you want to talk about?" I ask, gazing up at the tall blonde intently. He mutters something indistinctly under his breath whilst scratching the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that" I tease, giggling at the slight awkwardness. His smile widens into a grin as a light chuckle leaves his lips.

"Um, it's just that we never get to talk properly at school… Because we're in different houses and stuff" He mumbles. His voice is low and his cheeks flush a light pink. He looks cute, adorable even. I can't believe my eyes. Is Draco Lucius Malfoy blushing? A high-pitched snort escapes my nose, earning a questioning look from Draco.

"I don't think I've ever seen you blush before. It's… almost adorable" I giggle, covering my mouth with my hand. His face pales immediately.

"I'm what?" He shrieks, hastily covering his darkening cheeks with his hands in shock. I laugh hysterically, whilst he feels his heated cheeks with contempt and consternation. He drops his hands from his cheeks, glaring at me with his cold grey eyes.

"Stop it" He groans, half-heartedly batting at my arm, as I continue to laugh quite loudly. "Stop it… Or else I'll-"

"Or else you'll what, Draco?" I cut across his measly threat. He opens his mouth to speak, however the sound of leaves rustling in the distance prevent him from uttering a word. He holds a finger to his lips and we listen to several voices that seem to be nearing us. Draco's eyebrows furrow deeply when he realizes that the voices belong to the golden trio.

"What the hell are they doing here?" He mutters under his breath. Eventually the bright tangerine mop of hair that signifies Weaslebee is visible, when he emerges from the bushes, closely followed by Potter and Hermione. They freeze instantly when their eyes land on the pair of us. Potter steps forward with a look of concern on his face. I think it's aimed at me, but why?

"Malfoy, leave the girl alone" He speaks in an authoritative tone. Does he not realise how much of an ass he looks like? This is why I hate Gryffindors. They always jump in head first without assessing the situation at all. I snort, almost glaring at Potter, utterly confused as to why he'd care about me hanging out with Draco.

"And why should I do that, Potter?" Malfoy sneers, slinging his arm around my shoulders and gently pulling me into his side. My heart beat picks up and my cheeks turn a light pink. A slight smirk tugs at my lips.

"Harry, I don't think he's doing anything wrong" Hermione speaks up, trying to pull him back. She flashes me a look, almost apologizing for the rash actions of her friend.

"Isn't that the girl from our DADA class?" Weaslebee asks, staring at me in confusion. The girl from our DADA class. What did I do to deserve that level of specificity from Potter and Co?

"Yeah, she is" Harry responds curtly, shaking off Hermione and stepping closer towards Draco and I. Draco drops his arm from me, straightens his back and widens his shoulders, staring down at Potter's short frame. You can almost smell the testosterone in the air. Frustrated, I let out a sigh. Sometimes you just have to deal with shit yourself.

"What the fúck do you want, Potter?" I snap, pissed off by his cocky attitude. Stepping around Draco, I step forwards and square up to Potter.

"That's my girl" Draco quietly mutters behind me, causing my cheeks to flush a gentle pink once more. I don't think I was supposed to hear that. I rapidly blink my eyes in a bid to recenter myself, raising an eyebrow at scar boy. Potter remains silent.

"No answer, then go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. I'm trying to spend quality time with my best friend and I don't want you ruining it" I almost shout, nearly towering over Potter and his stout build. He nods swiftly, before hastily retreating back into the bushes with his comrades.

I feel hands rest on my shoulders, so I glance up to find Draco grinning widely at me.

"And that is why you should be in Slytherin" He whispers, hugging me awkwardly from the side. Blushing slightly, I return the hug somewhat and we stand there for a minute or so in an unconventional yet comfortable embrace.

Eventually, we pull away and Draco starts running away, shouting the words "Last one to Honeydukes is a stinky Troll!".

…………………………….

Groaning loudly, I fall face first onto my bed in the dormitory after kicking my shoes off and almost hitting Merlin with one of them. I'm exhausted. Draco insisted on spending over an hour picking out sweets in Honeydukes and then playing hide n' seek in the woods near the Shrieking Shack. My legs ache and I'm seriously tired. As I feel myself slowly drift off to sleep the door to the dormitory opens loudly.

"So, how'd it go?" Charlie asks in a booming voice, jumping onto my bed next to me.

"Exhausting" I groan, rolling over to face her.

"Well, your make up is still intact, so that's good. How was Draco?" She questions, smiling down at me in excitement. I give her a pointed look, before letting out a long sigh. "Did you tell him?"

"No" I sigh, covering my face with my hands. "We just hung out and stuff" I add, staring up at the roof of my four-poster bed.

"And stuff" Charlie says, sarcastically. I nod, smiling slightly. "What?

"He looked pretty good in that jumper and dark jeans" I smirk, running my hand gently through my hair, earning an eye roll from Charlie. "And some how I made him blush earlier" I add, staring up at the Blue drapes on my bed and pondering as to why Draco's face ended up the colour of a ripe tomato.

"Oh, really?" Charlotte asks, inquisitively.

"Yeah. Also, Potter turned up and he got defensive. I swear, it was like third year all over again" I sigh, running my hands down my face steadily. "DADA is gonna be hell on Monday" This earns a laugh from Charlie. I glance at her in confusion, furrowing my eyebrows.

"He likes you, idiot" She continues to chuckle deeply.

"What?" I almost choke on air at the audacity of her statement. She nods knowingly and slyly taps her nose.

"Just give it time, young grasshopper" She adds in a deep, wise voice.

"Young grasshopper? I'm older than you" I shout, swatting at her arm and giggling.

Other Chapters

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 2

And here we go... Chapter 2.

Please don’t copy, translate, or transfer my work. I promise you this is the only place this is published. If you see it elsewhere, it’s stolen.

Warnings: cursing. ALL THE FLUFF. Foreshadowing. ;)

That afternoon, after everyone had agreed to meet at the diner to leave the next morning, Taza, Hank and Megan went home to pack.

Hank quickly packed his duffel bag just like he normally did for a Reaper Run of any length. Flannel shirts and long sleeved henleys were folded and stored next to his jeans and other clothes. He did throw in two extra flannels and a hoody though. He never knew when Megan was going to need something warmer than what she had. 

Taza packed similarly and then headed in to check on Megan. “Here, Chica,” he said, coming into the room she shared with Hank. “Here’s a duffle bag you can use. We’ll get you your own travel gear soon.”

“Thanks, Papa, but I don’t know what to pack.” She was standing in front of her open closet with a frown.

“Well - we’re going North, so pretty much whatever you want to pack. It’s a little cooler up there, but that’s it.” He placed the black duffle down on the footlocker at the end of the bed.

Hank came out from packing his toiletries with a grin. “Pack at least one nice outfit, Princessa. We’ll go out while we’re there. And there will probably be a party or two.”

Megan grimaced. “What exactly should I wear to a Sons party?”

Taza laughed. “If Hank has his way - his soft colors.”

Hank flipped him off, but shook his head. “He’s not entirely wrong though…” he said rubbing the back of his neck a bit sheepishly.

Megan giggled. “How long will we be there?”

“Standard procedure when we don’t have to conserve space is to pack for a week, Chica. We’ve got plenty of room for luggage with the car.” Taza pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll bring you a jewelry box to take too.”

“Okay.” She smiled and reached for the dresses Letty had bought. She figured she’d better figure out which one to take for her night out with Hank first.

Hank smiled. “Which jeans do you want? I’ll grab them.”

“Just any of them. You know what will be more appropriate for me to wear than I do,” she said distractedly holding up the green dress that she had shocked Hank by wearing after her tattoo appointment. “And could you grab some of the shorts Letty bought me for under dresses?”

“Sure, Sweetheart.” Hank pulled three of the pairs of skinny jeans that she wore the most out of the dresser and started rolling them to pack. He also added a pair of tight black jeans that he loved seeing her in. Once those were in the bag, he grabbed three pairs of the cotton shorts she’d asked for and packed them too. 

Megan put the green dress back with a shake of her head. She didn’t want to show too much skin around patches that she didn’t know well. Hank might not like it. She pulled out a black dress instead. It looked like it was a little longer than the other one, but the back had a keyhole covered in black lace instead of being open. It was much more modest. She laid it on the bed. “I hate meeting new people while I’m so useless. I should at least be able to help out at the bar at parties like this.”

Hank paused in his packing. “Mi princessa, you are not useless. You’re injured. No one expects you to be serving these assholes anyway.” He walked over until he could tilt her chin up and make her meet his eyes. “You are walking into this meeting as Mayan Royalty, not our bartender.” He leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “La Princessa de los Mayas. Mi Princesa.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I can’t wait to show you off.”

She cleared her throat and smiled a little. “Broken bits and all?”

Hank laughed. “Broken bits and all. Straighten that crown mi princessa and let’s get you packed.”

In the end, Hank’s soft colors did make it into the bag along with her other shirts and flannels, but so did two more dresses.

Taza rejoined them with a travel jewelry box as they were packing what toiletries of Megan’s they could - the things she wouldn’t need tonight or in the morning.

Megan laughed. “But Papa, I only have my princessa necklace and earrings to pack and I’ll be wearing those.”

“I thought you might like some more of your grandmother’s things for the trip. Plus you can pack your hair jewelry in it too.” He smiled and slid the green jeweled hair combs and the feather braid weights into the zippered pocket on the outside along with hair ties and pins from her dressing table. 

Megan grinned and ran gentle fingers over the antique box on her dressing table as she sat down. “I haven’t had a chance to go through it yet.” She traced the elaborate carvings on the top of the box.

“So we’ll go through it together, hmm? We can take our time when we get back. Maybe we can stop by the reservation on the way home. Find you some pieces of your own.” Taza winked at Hank who went to sit in the reading chair across the room. “Besides, there are a few pieces that I have in mind.”

He pulled a three stranded bone and amber beaded choker in the native style out and slipped it on her where she could see it in the mirror on her dressing table. “She wore this when she needed confidence. Said it was the reminder she needed to keep her head up.”

Megan reached to touch it with reverent fingers. “It’s beautiful, Papa.”

He removed it and put it in the travel case. “And for your date night-” he pulled out a strand of pearls. “These match your earrings.” Those were packed as well. “As for the club party - you’ll need something different there. Your crowns mark you as la princessa - this will mark you as MY daughter.” A duplicate of the necklace he wore every day came out of the box. The silver circle that was almost closed with the small turquoise stone at the apex strung on a black adjustable cord. He slipped it over her head and tightened it so that it sat right at her collarbone - the longer chain with her crown pendant hung below it.

Tears gathered in Megan’s eyes. “Papa… it’s beautiful. A matched set?”

“My parent’s wedding set. I wear my father’s. Mama’s has been waiting to be worn a long time.” He smiled in the mirror at her. “It suits you. Never forget, Chica, you come from two very proud cultures. A true princessa.”

Megan spun on her stool to hug him one armed around the waist. “Thank you, Papa.”

“You’re welcome, Chica.” He gently returned her embrace.

Hank smiled as he watched from the reading chair in the corner. “We should think about dinner soon. And another dose of pain killers. You’re awfully pale, Princessa.”

Megan sat up straight suddenly. “Dinner! We need to check on Mama before we go!”

“Easy there, Chica. Two birds - one stone. You two work out dinner and medicine. I’ll go over and see if she wants to come for a visit. I’ll take her back home to pick up my bike after,” Taza suggested.

Hank smiled. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re coming. She wanted us all there for dinner tomorrow anyway - we’ll just move it up a day.” He pulled his phone out as Megan stood in a rush to go find something to make for dinner.

After Taza left, Hank found Megan digging through the pantry frantically. “Taza’s headed out to get Mama. She’s excited to see you. I know you’ve talked to her on the phone, but she’s the type to keep worrying until she lays eyes on you…” he chuckled a little. “Slow down, mi princessa. We have time.”

Megan smiled tensely over her shoulder at him. “I can’t wait to see her either. Unfortunately - her first time here and I’m going to be a horrible hostess. There’s nothing thawed to cook properly…”

Hank shook his head. “Princessa - Mama doesn’t care what we eat at family dinner. She just cares that we eat together.” He came up behind her and pulled her back against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her as she relaxed fractionally at his warmth. “Are you worried about something? Or are you just in pain?” He gently rocked them on their feet.

Megan leaned her head back against his shoulder and let him hold some of her weight. “I just feel like I should have been taking better care of you. Cooking for you more. Isn’t that what a woman is supposed to do for her man?”

Hank snorted. “If I wanted a stepford wife maybe. I want mi princessa. My badass, sharp shooting, bartending princessa who takes care of me and her Papa just fine.” He cuddled her under his chin and used the arm not around her to ease the pressure of her sling a little. The strap had rubbed the side of her neck nearly raw. Today was the first day that they’d left the house and she hadn’t been able to rest it much. “Sweetheart - why didn’t you say the strap was rubbing? Much more and you’d be bleeding. C’mon. Sit down at the table while I find something to pad that.”

“But dinner -”

“Dinner can wait. Sit.” He guided her to a chair and pulled the kitchen first aid kit from below the sink.

By the time Taza got back with Mama, Hank had found some rolled gauze and wrapped it around the strap of the sling to soften the rough strap. He was also placing a large band aid over the raw spot to keep it from getting further irritated. He had found some after tattoo gel in his footlocker to help with the irritation and pain.

“What happened? Did you hurt yourself, Chica?” Taza asked tilting her chin to get a look at her neck.

“I’m fine, Papa. It’s nothing. The sling strap just rubs a little, that’s all.” Megan smiled at Moma Loza. “Hi Mama. Sorry. I was trying to find something for dinner when Hank noticed the irritation. Afraid dinner’s going to be a little later than planned. I still have to find something to cook.”

Mama stepped in close. “Nonsense, querida! You shouldn’t be cooking. Your poor arm must hurt terribly.” She cupped Megan’s cheeks in her weathered hands. “Your Papa is going to be a good man and order us pizza. You just rest, hmm? When was the last time you took your medicine?”

“I’m okay. I can cook something. I just didn’t thaw anything this morning because I thought we’d be at the clubhouse until late…”

“Bah! No.” Mama turned to Hank. “Tell me you haven’t been letting her overexert herself, hijo. And when was her last pain relief? You know it’s worse if you don’t stay ahead of it!”

Hank chuckled. “She’s been resting, Mama, I promise. Today was just a long day. And I know it’s better to stay ahead of the pain, but Megan doesn’t like taking the medicine at all. We just got her some new meds today to help with that.”

“That’s not an answer, mijo…”

Taza hid a smile as Mama scolded her giant son as if he were a naughty boy. “She had a dose after brunch this morning. She’s been due for awhile…”

Mama smacked at Taza’s bicep and cursed in rapid fire Spanish about men who never listen. Then she turned back to Megan. “Now - you are going to take your medicine. Then, you and I are going into the living room to look at the swatches for your dress that I was given at Mass a few days ago. While we do that - HANK will order dinner and your PAPA will start the fireplace for us so that we’re nice and cozy. After dinner, you will REST. You’ve done too much today. Hank told me about your injuries the night of the crash. Your arm may be the most visible but ribs don’t heal quickly either. Especially without rest.” She guided Megan to stand with a firm but gentle hand and led her towards the living room before looking over her shoulder at the guys. “Vamos muchachos. Me escuchas.”

Both men cracked smiles. “Si Mama. Escuchamos.”

Taza brought Megan a glass of water and two pills. “Before you ask, it’s the ibuprofen, Chica.”

Megan smiled ruefully. “I’m a horrible patient.”

Taza laughed. “But I love you anyway.”

“Love you too, Papa.” She swallowed the pills with a grimace.

“There now, querida. You’ll feel better soon. You can’t let the pain get a hold on you or the medicine won’t work as well.” Mama tucked a pillow under Megan’s cast to take some of the weight and a blanket over her legs. “I was a nurse for years, Sweet Girl. I know how this works.”

Megan smiled. “Thank you, Mama. I still wish you'd let me cook dinner though.”

“Pizza is a nice change every once in a while. Don’t tell Hank I said that though. He thinks I need to eat healthier.” Mama winked. “Now Francisca showed me the sketches of your dress. It’s going to be beautiful. You girls did an amazing job on the design. I have some swatches here for you to choose from for the green and a few lace patterns. Once those decisions are made, they can start sewing.” She pulled some bits of fabric from her oversized purse. “Now… this green is pretty close to the color, I think…”

Hank joined them after placing a pizza order as Megan debated between two dark green swatches.  “I’m just not sure which is right,” she frowned. 

Hank smiled and pulled her jacket off the hook behind the door. “You’re looking for Mayan green, right? The stitching on your jacket is the official color of our patches. I made sure of it when we bought it.” He laid it on her lap as Taza finished starting the fire. 

Mama turned on the lamp beside the chair so that they could see the differences in color better. “Definitely the darker green. Do you like how the fabric feels?”

Megan stroked it. “It’s so soft…”

“Good. That answers that.” Mama packed the colors away leaving only the chosen green out. “Now for the lace for the overlay…” She laid a few pieces of lace out. “Some of it will be that pretty off-white we chose and some of it will be dyed green for accents.”

Megan laughed, “Mama - I can’t see much difference in them. Whatever you and Francisca like best will be beautiful.”

“Good girl.” Mama chuckled and patted her knee. “We’ll take care of it then.” She packed things away as Taza brought her a glass of lemonade. 

He settled into his arm chair as Hank took the other one leaving Megan and Mama on the couch. 

“Will you need anything from me in the next few days, Mama? Hank and Papa have a run out of town to make and I’m going along.” Megan smiled.

“No, querida. WE should have it all figured out by the time you get back.” She looked at Taza. “Surely you aren’t letting her ride like this, Che…”

“No ma’am. Hank’s driving a car this time with Megan along. We’re going to visit her Tío Marcus and Tía Diana.” Taza smiled. “She gets to meet her little cousin for the first time.”

“Good.” She looked at Hank. “And you’ll make sure she takes her medicine?”

Hank chuckled. “Sí Mama. And she keeps her sling on…”

“And RESTS. A concussion and bruised ribs don’t just heal overnight -”

“It’s been longer-” Megan protested. 

“Not long enough, querida. And you aren’t going to do it yourself, so we need to take care of you for you.” Mama nodded decisively. 

The doorbell rang and Taza hopped up to go get the pizza. “Sounds like dinner’s here.”

Hank smiled. “Yes Mama. We will keep la princessa safe.” He stood to press a kiss to his mother’s head. “Stop worrying so much. Mi princessa is stronger than you think.” He sat on the arm of the couch next to Megan.

Mama sighed. “I know. Doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you both.”

Megan reached with her good hand for Mama’s hand. “We know, Mama.” She smiled. “Hank takes good care of me, and I do my best to take care of him too.”

“Good girl. Just… don’t fight them so hard when they’re trying to help, please?” She squeezed Megan’s hand.

“I’ll try.”

“Good. You can start by eating dinner!” Taza said as he brought multiple pizza boxes into the room with a smile.

Dinner was a cheerful affair with many stories told by Taza and Hank. Megan relaxes as the night went by and could feel herself getting tired. Hank could see it as well. She started to relax back against the couch when he moved to sit on the floor in front of it and lean back against her legs. 

When Megan’s eyes started to flutter, Taza chuckled. “ I do believe that it is time for la princessa to get some of that rest, Mama. Come on. I’ll take you home so that Hank can put her to bed.”

Mama leaned down to kiss Hank’s cheek. “Sounds good, Che. Mijo, take good care of her. I’ll see you when you get back.” She stroked his cheek gently.

“Te amo, Mama. Sleep well. Call the club house if you need anything while we’re gone. Creeper will be staying back and the Prospect’s always there.” Hank smiled.

“Te amo, hijo.” She stood and pressed a featherlight kiss to Megan’s hair. “Te amo, hija,” she whispered.

She slipped out with Taza quietly. Megan never moved. She was asleep and there were no lines of pain on her face for the first time in over a week.

Hank stood carefully and slid his arms under Megan’s body gently and slowly so as not to jostle her. He stood and took her to bed. 

The next morning, Megan woke to someone stroking her hair. She woke slowly and whined a little. “I know Princessa, but if you’ll wake up enough to take your medicine, you can go back to sleep for awhile longer. Just open your mouth and I’ll help you take them.”

“ ‘m up. I can get up,” she mumbled. SHe shifted to prop herself up enough to take the medicine, but barely opened her eyes. 

Hank chuckled. “Okay sweetheart.” He handed her the pills and a small glass of water. 

She swallowed them with a grimace. 

“Good girl.” He took the glass and placed it on the bedside table. “We still have an hour before we have to be up. How about a cuddle?”

“Please?” Megan whined.

“Of course, mi princessa.” Hank slipped back into bed and snuggled against her back and good side.

Megan closed her eyes again and hummed contentedly.

“Comfy, sweetheart?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Good. Rest some more. We’ve got a long drive today.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

She smiled. “Is it wrong that I’m kind of looking forward to it? You and me in a car together on a road trip.”

He chuckled and she felt the vibrations against her back. “No. I’m going to enjoy it too. I love the bike, but I can’t see your face on it while I’m driving. I like the idea of being able to talk to you on a trip.”

She smiled and played with his fingers as they pressed into the skin at her waist where her shirt rode up. “When do we need to be in Charming?”

“We should get there a day or so early for the meeting.” He nuzzled her ear gently. “Plenty of time.”

“Good. We can stop for lunch then.”

“Of course. Anywhere you want.”

She laughed. “Tío Bishop and Coco may disagree with that.”

“Nah. Doesn’t matter.” He grinned and tickled her neck with his breath gently. “We’ll still stop where you want. They’ll be out voted ‘cause you know your dad will side with you.”

She laughed. “Did we pack everything?”

“If we didn’t we can buy whatever we’ve forgotten. It’s not like we’re going too far, mi princessa.” He smiled and slipped to the side until he could brace himself on his forearm and look down at her. “Your Padrino is excited to have you coming to Oakland. He texted Taza last night to be sure he and Diana had everything we’d need at their house for our visit.”

She giggled. “I think I’m excited too.”

“Good. You should be.” He pressed a kiss to her lips quickly. When he pulled back she pouted up at him with a brief whine. He chuckled. “What?”

Megan ran her good hand up Hank’s bare chest to run her fingernails through the hair at the nape of his neck. “When are you going to kiss me for real again? I won’t break.”

He smiled and moved a bit of hair from her face. “I am kissing you, mi princessa.”

She pouted again and turned up the puppy dog eyes.

He chuckled and kissed her deeper, but still pulled back a bit.

She smiled up at him. “Better.” She leaned up to press another kiss to his lips. 

Hank kissed her back, but broke it to press his forehead to hers. “You are not making it easy for me to be a gentleman, Princessa. And you are in no shape for me to stop being a gentleman right now.” He pressed a soft kiss to her nose. “Let yourself heal. I promise - when your sling comes off- then we can think about more.”

Megan groaned a little petulant. “But -”

Hank smiled and pressed himself gently down against her so she could feel the effect she had on him. “I promise, mi princessa, you aren’t the only one frustrated. Be patient.”

She sighed. “I’m trying. I just miss this.” 

Hank nodded. “Me too.” He kissed her again gently. “I promise you, I want you just as much as ever. Maybe more. I just won’t hurt you to have you when I can just wait a little while longer. I’ll wait as long as I need to, mi princessa.”

Megan nodded, “I know that.” She stroked the side of his face. “But will you at least kisse me regularly again?”

“Any time, mi amore. Any time.”

[enfate03]

Secondhand

Chapter Four ♡ Ruined

wc: 2.9k cw: getting drunk as a coping mechanism

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Even if the concert wasn’t on a Monday, you wouldn’t have the heart to keep the bar open and interact like a human being. You almost spend the night at your apartment, moping on the couch and watching crappy Hallmark romcoms in an attempt to hide your pain. But you know the romcoms would only make you feel worse, so you head to Secondhand anyway. There’s some extra paperwork and inventory to be done, and the antisocial work will distract you.

Or so you thought, but instead you find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the ceiling fan positioned right above the bar’s stage. The start of autumn means it isn’t as hot as it used to be, but you find the constant spin of the fan’s blade mesmerizing. To your left is the pool table that his friends played at. You’ve actually gotten quite good at pool since, every once in a while, a customer will ask you to join them in a game, in exchange for a free drink for the winner. You could tell from that night when he brought his friends, if Heeseung had challenged you, he definitely would’ve lost.

And of course, the stage is where you two sang together. Honestly, it’s where Heeseung belongs. His vocals, his visuals, even his dance. Everything about Heeseung draws you in, like he’s sharing a piece of his soul in every performance.

A piece of his soul? You wonder what he looks like on stage tonight. If maybe his whole soul is bared in front of Gahyeon. What love song would he dedicate to her? Polaroid Love? Not For Sale?

Fever?

You lightly slap yourself on the cheek. What’s the point in wondering about it now? To feel pity? To wish upon a shooting star for something impossible? You make yourself sick. You know better than this. You’re not destined for love. Not even Heeseung can change that.

But that doesn’t have to be the end of the story. You don’t have to live your life in sadness just because you can’t have a soulmate. You can still have fun; you can still dress up and drink and dance on your own. You look down at yourself, wearing a simple pair of skinny jeans and tee shirt that hugs your chest and can be pinned into a crop top. Not the sexiest outfit in the world, yet not the worst either.

From behind the bar, you grab your wallet and phone. That’s all you need.

The best club you know of is only a short taxi drive, and by the time you arrive, it’s only 9pm. Plenty of time to make the most of a memorable night. To your sober delight, you get carded by the bouncer, and your heart beats fast. At the bar, you go straight for the whiskey, downing three shots before making your way to the dance floor.

The club is dark, and the dance floor is crowded, but the neon wristbands and glittery outfits give you more than enough light to push your way into the middle. Despite being filled with handsome and beautiful singles, no person in the club particularly catches your tipsy attention, so you close your eyes and focus on listening to the music. Every so often in the night, a few hands will brush your waist, or a voice will whisper in your ear. Spurred on by the liquid courage, you allow yourself to press onto the warm bodies behind you, but make sure to leave any prospective partners as soon as the song ends. This is your night to have fun, and you don’t belong to anyone.

Your heartbeat fades into the bass of the music. Your hands and hips almost don’t belong to you anymore, as they respond to the rhythm without your conscious interference. Your mind is empty.

You don’t know how late it is, two more shots and one complimentary cocktail sent your way later, but eventually the bartender takes a hard look at you and your lack of company and cuts you off. When she asks you if there’s anyone she can call to pick you up, you send her a lopsided grin and shake your head. The irony in being the one who gets cut off, rather than on the opposite side of the bar, makes you laugh a little too hard. Despite the concern in her actions, she lets you leave alone. Stumbling even in sneakers.

Outside, the city is almost brighter. The neon lights of the Seoul skyline choke off most of the light from the stars above, but the streetlamps guide you aimlessly down the road. You pass by restaurant workers closing down for the night, a couple on the bench shamelessly making out. An unattended ice cream shop and cars speeding down the street. You take up most of the sidewalk, unable to walk in a straight line. A group of high school girls give you a strange look before crossing to avoid you.

And it’s cold. You don’t have a jacket, so your stomach and arms are exposed. Goosebumps run up your arms, and the friction of your palms rubbing together is lost to the wind’s chill.

On the street beside you, a taxicab honks at a driver who failed to notice the light change. The sound causes you to trip, and your hands scrape the sidewalk in an attempt to brace yourself. The pain causes you to wince.

It doesn’t hurt as much as you hurt only a few hours ago. In comparison to that heartache, your sober self would probably categorize this pain as a bee sting. But to your drunk self, which has been riding the highs of club life for the last few hours, this pain is absolutely unbearable.

Like a child separated from their mom, all alone in the city jungle, you start to bawl. Thin tears streak down your face, and you use the backs of your hands to rub at your eyes. Sitting back on your heels, you look up to the sky once more, and spot a sliver of the moon. Yellow, and blurred into three different celestial bodies. Your chest heaves and your throat starts to burn, but this pain only makes you cry harder.

You ruined it. You were having fun. You were dancing and drinking, and you weren’t thinking about Heeseung at all. It was a good night—a great night! And now it’s all ruined.

Against all odds, in the middle of your public breakdown, you hear someone shout your name. “Oh my god! Are you okay?” It’s a nice voice, one that you’ve heard before. Typically much smoother when it’s not wrinkled with panic. But it’s not the one you so desperately want to hear right now. “What happened?”

Jake rushes to your side and pulls you into his chest. He’s kneeling down to your height, and his hands caress your hair. “I ruined it!” you sputter into Jake’s chest, and he shushes you.

“Jake, we have to go. Someone’s going to notice,” a man standing next to Jake urges. You don’t see but feel Jake nod quickly before he delicately pushes you back.

“Can you stand?”

“I—I don’t know!” you sniffle, and the man standing offers you a tissue. You look up to thank him and realize it’s yet another member of the group. In your drunken state, you can’t recall his name, but his sharp eyebrows, one with a slit cut through it, makes you reach out towards his face. “Are you hurt too?”

The men exchange glances before going to either side of you, helping you to your feet and wrapping your arms around their shoulder. “What’s your address?” Jake asks, but you shake your head aggressively.

“I don’t want to go home! I was having fun! But I ruined everything!” Your head hangs forward in shame.

“Do you think Heeseung would know?”

“I guess there’s no harm in asking.”

The men help you walk down the street until they spot a bench and sit you down there. Jake sits down next to you, rubbing your shoulder in comfort and you stare forward. Your lips twitch and the pause in your waterworks is only temporary. Any sudden movement, and your tear ducts are ready to overflow once more.

The other man stands in front of you two, facing the street. He blocks your image from anyone who may chance a brief look, though anyone trying to investigate would have no problem in finding a clearer view. “Hyung.” He explains the situation over the phone, but when he describes you as drunk, you protest.

“I’m not drunk!”

Jake hushes you, glancing to the side in paranoid worry.

“We want to take her home, but she won’t tell us where it is. Do you know?”

You point up at the moon, pushing Jake until he looks up with you. “The moon is so small today. Do you think she also gets sad?”

Instead of answering your question, Jake’s eyes are drawn to your hands. He takes them both in his own, looking them over. They’re so much bigger than your own. Like Heeseung’s hand, the ones you wanted to hold in his car. “Does this hurt?”

You nod shyly, “It hurt when I fell. That’s when I ruined everything.”

“What did you ruin? Did you break something?” Jake finally asks you. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it can be fixed. Okay? But right now, we have to focus on bringing you home. Can you tell us where that is?”

His soft words make you nod. “Okay. But at home, Dad will be mad. He’ll know that I ruined it.” Your voice pitches upwards, and Jake winces at the sound, anticipating for you to start sobbing anew. Not yet, but you bring your knees up to your chest and crunch into a ball. “I can’t go home until it’s fixed.”

The man finally turns to the pair of you, the call finished. “Heeseung told us to meet him at her bar. I just got us an uber, so it’ll be here in 2 minutes.”

“Cool, thanks Jay.” Jake turns to face you, “Can we go back to your bar? Is that okay?”

You point up towards the yellow moon, wondering if it’s seeing everything and everyone from its vantage point high in the sky, if it’s watching over you by sending you these guardian angels, “Okay. And then we can fix it?”

“Sure. And then we’ll fix it.”

The two members of Enhypen accompany you in the uber, sitting you in between them and continuing to calm you down. When you arrive at the bar, Heeseung isn’t there yet, and you hand your keys over to Jake to unlock the doors.

Inside Secondhand, they help you sit on a couch. Jake sits by you while the other searches for a glass of water. Eventually, he finds a bottle in the back fridge and brings it over to you. Jake pulls the blanket hanging off the back of the couch to drape it across you, but you bundle it up into a ball and hold it close to you like a plushie. “Is it time to go to sleep now? I thought we were gonna fix it now?”

“What’s broken?” Jay asks, sitting on the table in front of the couch. He checks his watch, and seeing the time seems to draw a yawn out of him. “Whatever it is, it’ll probably have to wait until tomorrow.”

You shake your head furiously, “By tomorrow, it’s too late! I was s’pposed to be proving that I can still live a fun life without a soulmate! But I failed when I fell and started crying, and if I can’t fix it, my dad will hate me. Because even though I already shouldn’t exist, I’m still greedy. But.. I can’t help it!” Your tears start streaming down your cheeks once more, and the sides of your hands angrily rub at them before Jake gently catches them.

“Greedy? If it’s greedy to want a soulmate, then isn’t everyone greedy?” Jay scoffs at your father’s words. “And what do you mean, shouldn’t exist? You’re here, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you were meant to exist?”

“You don’t understand,” you gasp out, wrists still held in Jake’s grip. “I’m a baseborn. My mother had me with a man that wasn’t her soulmate, and now I don’t have a soulmate.”

“You don’t have a soulmate?” Jake asks, letting you go. “But I thought Heeseung said…”

“I don’t. I never manifested a soulmark.” All this serious talk is causing you to sober up, and you feel embarrassed that you told them your feelings so blatantly. You’re never the one to open up about your problems. You’re the bartender; it’s your job to listen.

A knock on the door, insistent, has all three of you jolting to look at it. Jay stands up and opens the door, revealing the last man on earth you want to see, and yet even just a glimpse of his face is enough to make your heart jump.

“What happened?” Heeseung asks Jay, walking over with a pillow in the crook of his arm and a gray blanket over his shoulder. “Why was she on the street?”

“I’m right here, you know?” You retort but allow yourself to be handled as Heeseung places the pillow behind you and pushes you to lie down. “Why are you asking him about me?”

“Because I’m still mad at you for giving away the ticket I got for you. Now, shush.” Heeseung drapes his blanket over you, “So?”

Jay sighs, pushing his hand through his black hair. “Man, I don’t want to speak for her. Something about having a good time without her soulmate, but it didn’t go the way she wanted. You should really ask her.”

Jake joins in, “Yeah, this isn’t exactly the type of thing you should hear from us.”

Heeseung blows a breath through his lips, upwards so that his bangs slightly ruffle from the breeze. “Fine. Then I’ll stay with her tonight. You guys should go back home. Feel free to take my car.” He rifles through his pocket and tosses out his keys. “Just don’t scratch my baby, or I’ll kill you, alright?”

“Jeez, dude. Are you grateful for us or not?” Jay catches the keys in his hands, jingling. “Text us when you wake up, alright? I don’t want our manager to blow another blood vessel.”

Heeseung chuckles. “I will. Seriously, thanks guys.” He glances over at you before raising an eyebrow. “We’re both glad you found her. Right?”

You swat at his arm but direct a tired smile towards the pair of men who took care of you on the street. “Thank you. Even if we couldn’t fix it, at least I wasn’t lonely.”

Jake smiles at you, softly. “It may not be too late to fix it.”

Jay and Jake walk over to the door. Jay tosses a “good night” over his shoulder. Then it’s just you and Heeseung left in the room.

“We need to talk.”

A laugh hiccups out of you. “We’re not even dating, and you’re still going to break up with me?”

 “What?” Heeseung shakes his head, a wry smile on his lips. “Tipsy you makes stupid jokes, huh? Good to know.” He tucks the corners of the blanket into your body, sitting on the couch and placing your head on his lap so that he’s almost directly looking down at you. “We need to talk about Gahyeon. And whatever drunk binge you were trying to go on tonight, and whatever thing that was broken that you and Jake were talking about. But it’s late, and I’d rather talk when you’re sober, so it’s time to go to bed. Otherwise, we’ll be up until the sunrise.”

“Can we? Watch the sunrise?” Your voice is timid, like a mouse.

Heeseung pokes your cheek, leaving his finger in the imprint. “Do you really want to stay up for another 5 hours?”

“Oh. No, I guess I don’t.” Your eyes downturn, looking at Heeseung’s hand that’s busy tucking you in. A thought occurs to you, “But where are you going to sleep?”

Heeseung looks around the room, noticing some recliners off to the side and pointing over at those. “They seem comfy enough.”

“If you want. You can sleep next to me.” Your voice speaks before you properly have time to mull over the suggestion in your brain. But regardless, you don’t regret the offer. You should.

“Okay, then I will,” Heeseung easily accepts, laying down and maneuvering himself so that he’s slotted neatly between you and the back of the couch. “This is definitely comfier.”

A red blush heats up your cheeks, and you’re glad that Heeseung is behind you so that he can’t see the effect his proximity is having on you. You should push him away. He has a soulmate, one that he met at the concert.

And yet, right now, he’s with you, isn’t he?            

Heeseung wraps an arm around your stomach. His warm breath is on your neck when he whispers, “I set an alarm for sunrise. Let’s watch it together.” And maybe it’s a combination of the time, the temperature, the vibes, but it’s so easy for you to fall into a deep dream. Too easy.   

Author's note: lol I'm aware I basically went AWOL. Sorry about that. tbh i had this chapter written for a while (though the next chapter is not finished) but it took me a while to distance myself from it so that i could see it more clearly for what it was. idk if that makes sense but anyway.. i couldn't let the angst drag on for too long cause this story is only meant to be like 6 chapters, but hopefully you enjoyed. this chapter is dedicated to @/allthesqueaks literally just for liking and reminding me this exists and that I actually do want to finish it, and an artist I recently discovered on youtube called Lyn Lapid whose songs give me just the right vibes

[wealthtv]

GOOD  AFTERNOON  PASSENGERS,  this is an annoucement  for  flight  AA118  to  NEW  YORK  CITY.  this  is  a  boarding  call  for  the  following  passenger(s):  LEONORA CLEMONTE, ALEXIS KIM, NAMI IM, PHOENIX LEE, ELENA DELUCA.  please  proceed  to  gate  42A  immediately.  please  have  your  boarding  pass  and  identification  ready.  the  captains  will  order  for  the  doors  of  the  aircraft  to  close  in  approximately  24  hours  time.  thank  you.

𓏲  *   ( romee strijd, cis female, she/her, paris hilton + hailey bieber cc  )   ⸺   pictures of leonora elsabeth clemonte the twenty eight year old hotel heiress/model/media personality, have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to having an affair with another celebrity — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their christian dior saddle bag and pumps matched with jacquemus laurier dress, they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more captivating than vain. their critics say that they’re more manipulative than benevolent when they aren’t too busy focusing on their blowdried bouncy hair, dewy skin, day drinking, impulsive shopping sprees, pretending to be busy to have a spa day instead of going out. reputation.com has taken to calling them london tipton in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).  ──    clara,    26,    gmt+2,    she/her,  none.

𓏲  *   ( jeon somi, demi girl, she/they )   ⸺   pictures of alexis kim,  the  twenty-three  year  old  musician (singer/guitarist),  have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to a video of them cursing and smashing a guitar on her parent's luxury car — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their platinum colored hair, skinny jeans, worn out docs * designer bags, they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more comedic than impulsive. their critics say that they’re more sarcastic than determined when they aren’t too busy focusing on their ever-growing guitar collection & will do something to spite others because they can and its fun & dives headfirst without checking the temperature & doesn’t take anything seriously but hard worker when it comes to music. reputation.com has taken to calling them vocal adrenaline in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).  ──    mandi,    25+,    PST,    she/her,  N/A. *filling jonathan yoon’s bandmate wc

𓏲  *   ( park chaeyoung, cis woman, she / her, rotten mango )   ⸺   pictures of NAMI  IM,  the  twenty-seven  year  old  true crime podcaster,  have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to denying that she has any involvements with a married man — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with a pair of denim jeans and shorts adorned with trendy patches, paired with high-cut Converse sneakers, a simple neutral-colored tee, a designer blazer, and complemented by thick, colorful headbands, they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more amicable than careless. their critics say that they’re more opinionated than insightful when they aren’t too busy focusing on their vinyl collection from old songs to the newest ones, unique shaped candles, mirrors, and rugs all in pastel colors, plant decorations hanging or displayed all over the room. reputation.com has taken to calling them cloud in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).  ──    iris,    twenty6,    gmt+8,    she/they,  tba.

𓏲  *   ( felix lee, cis man, he/him )   ⸺   pictures of PHOENIX LEE,  the  twenty-four year  old editorial model and celebrity stylist,  have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to a twenty second clip of the obviously tipsy him heavily making out with a rockstar at an after party — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their all black ensemble of a satin top, leather jacket, tight leather pants and a pair of knee-high chunky platform boots, they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more zestful than self-critical. their critics say that they’re more stubborn than industrious when they aren’t too busy focusing on their strong urge to relive the fun moments from last night's soirée, scattered rose petals on the marble floor next to a broken bottle of sauvignon blanc and a long list of unanswered text messages from his admirers. reputation.com has taken to calling them tinkerbell in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).  ──    jett,    twenty-three,    gmt+8,    he/him,  no triggers.

𓏲  *   ( olivia cooke, gender nonconforming, she + they, victoria pedretti cc )   ⸺   pictures of elena penelope deluca,  the  thirty  year  old  actress,  have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to her leaking her own sex tape — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their lazy couture of sweatpants and black calvin klein bralette, they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more captivating than materialistic. their critics say that they’re more disobedient than persuasive when they aren’t too busy focusing on their heart shaped glasses paired with low ponytails, initiating a fight between friends before sipping their drink and sitting back in their seat to watch the show, refusing to accommodate to the societal norms requested from you. reputation.com has taken to calling them MINX in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).  ──    kiki,    twenty6 (almost twenty7),    est,    she+her

[fategoflatass]

So, I've created some OCs for the fic I'm writing right now (I don't think I'll be finishing it anytime soon RIP).

The first one is Hazel Brierley.

Her name would mean something like "thorny hazel woods(?)" (IDK, I'm not very clever when it comes to names).

She's a 16-year-old student who aspires to be an author (she's obsessed with mystery novels).

Only daughter of two real estate agents.

Tall and slender (176cm), she's one of the beauties at her school (although some consider her personality to be pretentious and/or creepy).

She has a rather attractive aura, people often wonder what's going on inside her head (although she gives off "mysterious girl" vibes, Hazel's much of an airhead. This often leads to her being brutally honest since she doesn't give much thought to what she's about to say).

Hazel also gives off nerdy vibes to some, which confuses her and makes the people who know her laugh — she despises everything that has to do with school and, again, she's dumb as hell.

She only talks with people who catch her interest enough to get her out of the clouds (even if they haven't talked much, or at all. She's pretty good at reading people).

But since it's so rare for her to find someone like that, she's pretty quiet. There're some classmates who think she's mute, only for them to get scared shitless once they hear her talk.

She's a part-time model for Sadie, her girlfriend.

Big fan of long skirts, turtleneck sweaters and the autumn-esque color scheme (not like I tried hiding that).

Whenever she finds out someone that caught her interest is younger than her (even if it's for a couple of months), she'll begin acting like a big sister to them (often with no success).

Then we have Adelaine Goldstein.

Her name would mean something like "golden lady".

Mostly known as Addie, she's a 15-year-old student who will become an actress (a widely acclaimed one).

She's the youngest of two sisters. Her parents both work in the show business: her mother is an actress and her dad, her manager.

While she's not as tall as Hazel (163cm), she's considered one of the prettiest girl in the entire area (as she should).

She wakes up every day at 5 am to calmly do her skin care routine and makeup (even if it's the lighest makeup you'll ever see).

Although what takes her more time is deciding her outfit of the day (and ways to steal something from her sister's wardrobe without waking her up. And it's that she always has clothes that match her style. Wonder why...).

Speaking of which: she loves flower patterns and bright colors, especially orange.

You'll never catch her wearing high heels or skinny jeans. If she's not comfortable in it, doesn't matter if it's the best outfit idea ever, she won't wear it.

At first she may seem to be unaproachable and petty, but once you get to know her, you find out she's actually... vain, stubborn and spoiled as hell. She's pretty nice, though.

While people often think Hazel is the brains out of the three, that's actually Adelaine. For some reason, she's not often linked to cleverness.

She stole her favorite pair of hoop earrings from her big sister, althought she will never admit to it.

The last one is Sadie Petty.

Her name literally means "small lady".

And he is, indeed, small (153cm).

Oldest sister out of three siblings (a boy and a baby sister). Her parents are both bakers.

Is she also petty? Yes, she is. She's also a tsundere (main reason why she doesn't have many friends).

She's obsessed with sweets, fashion and eating sweets while thinking about fashion.

Speaking of, she aspires to be a fashion designer.

Her light red hair is dyed. She's actually a brunette.

Not the biggest fan of her short stature. You'll see her wearing platforms and maxi skirts more often than not.

Her love for cheesecake is so intense she often forgets she's lactose intolerant.

It's not like she's a jealous girlfriend, she just wishes Hazel would spend all the free time she has with her.

She's often confused with a little girl and her attitude doesn't help.

Believe it or not, she's quite needy. She loves cuddling (only with her girlfriend, that is) and, if you're close enough, she'll allow you to pat her head.

She loves doing people's hair.

[dark-breakers]

Shattered Star: Chapter 3

"Is he better now, Mr. Fix It?" Marle asked as she sat on a blue chair while idly swinging her legs.

The room seemed to be a workshop of some sort with a brown wooden floor, burgundy red walls, a large window with a black curtain that was currently tied back with a brown rope, a large metal table that Sundrop, who had a large black blanket covering him, was currently sleeping on, a brown wooden desk where a silver laptop that had celestial-themed stickers on the outside of it that showed Sundrop's data on it and a red metal toolbox that was open which revealed some tools left in it, a brown wooden bookshelf that held books on mechanics, animatronic design, and encyclopedias on digital technology, and a black leather roller chair where the man Marle referred to as "Mr. Fix It" sat in.

He was a man who was twenty-three years old, had long black hair that he kept in a low ponytail with a blue hair tie, dark skin, and green eyes.

He wore a black polo shirt, a pair of blue skinny jeans, a pair of black rubber boots, a pair of black latex gloves, a brown apron that had pockets and tied around his waist, and a pair of black and gold goggles that rested on his head.

"Well... Definitely a lot less damaged than he was last night... Still can't believe there were any animatronics left. Doesn't look like one of Ms. Vuillemot's or Mr. Klase's," the man replied as he tapped on his laptop. "Now... To turn you back on."

Once he pressed a button on his laptop, Sundrop suddenly opened his eyes and screamed, "LUNAR!"

Marle almost fell over in the chair but the man managed to catch her in time.

Sundrop pulled himself up into a sitting position and looked around his surroundings.

He sighed in relief as he thought that he was probably just dreaming.

He looked down and saw he was not wearing his uniform but still had his bells on his wrists and the bow on his tail.

When he saw that Marle and a man he did not recognize were staring at him, he immediately covered his body up with the blanket.

"Easy, big guy. Marle told me about how she found you in the field. My name is Otis Mossbarger. I'm a technician here at "Precious Gems Orphanage". I was able to fix your right leg," Otis explained as he took his gloves off and put them on his desk, revealing some scars on his hands.

"Precious Gems Orphanage... I've never heard of this place..." Sundrop thought out loud.

When Sundrop looked into his memory bank to see if it was an actual location, it came back as negative.

'I guess I really AM in another dimension after all...'

"I can't blame you. Briar Glen is kind of far away from the big city so not a lot of people outside here know," Otis said as he unplugged a cord that was in Sundrop's back that was connected to his laptop.

"Do you feel better now, Sundrop?" Marle asked as she got off the chair.

"Very much, Marle. And thank you for fixing me, Mr. Mossbarger," Sundrop replied with a small smile.

"J-Just call me Otis. Mr. Mossbarger is a little too formal for me," Otis said while scratching the back of his neck.

"Alright, Otis," Sundrop said.

Suddenly the door opened and a boy who looked to be no more than ten years old appeared.

He had short brown hair, fair skin, and turquoise eyes.

He wore a plain black tank top, a red and white plaid flannel overshirt that was completely unbuttoned, a pair of black jeans, a pair of white socks, and a pair of red tennis shoes with black laces and soles.

"Hey, Marle. Ms. Sunshine says breakfast is going to be ready soon," the boy said.

"Okay, Dominic! Bye, Otis! Bye, Sundrop!" Marle said as she ran out of the room.

Dominic merely glanced at Sundrop and left the room as quick as he came.

"Is Sunshine really an animatronic like me?" Sundrop asked.

"Yeah. It actually surprised me how much you two almost look the same," Otis replied.

"Are you... An orphan as well?" Sundrop asked.

"Nope. My Mom and Dad are still breathing. I just work here because Dad used to work for Fazbear Entertainment but got laid off once the company shut down," Otis replied as he went to the door. "I'm going to get you a bathrobe. You probably don't want to scare the other kids, yeah?"

Sundrop nodded.

Otis then left the room, leaving Sundrop to ponder what the technician said.

'So in this dimension, Fazbear Entertainment shut down. But when and how?' he thought as he shook his bells on his wrists.

"I'm back. Sunshine already set a bath for you," Otis said as he came back with a white bathrobe and set it on Sundrop's lap.

"A bath?" Sundrop asked as he got off the table, took the blanket off, and put the bathrobe on.

"Yeah. Don't worry, I already checked if you were waterproof and it came back as a positive," Otis replied.

"Are there any other animatronics here?" Sundrop asked.

"There's Midnight who's Sunshine's husband, both literally and figuratively, and Zaniah, who's like their daughter," Otis replied.

'Wait... So Moondrop and I aren't brothers in this universe, but MARRIED and already have a KID?!' Sundrop thought with disbelief.

"You okay?" Otis asked.

Sundrop nodded quickly.

"Okay... Sunshine's room is upstairs. You'll know it's hers when you see a door with a pinkish-yellow sun on it. That's where you need to take your bath. She left you some of Midnight's clothes because she said that her clothes probably wouldn't fit you," Otis explained.

"What about my uniform?" Sundrop asked.

"It's currently in the laundry. Should be done by the time breakfast is over," Otis replied as he stepped out of the way.

"Alright. And... Thank you again. For fixing me," Sundrop said as he began to walk up the stairs.

"No problem. It's my job," Otis said as he walked back into the workshop.

Sundrop finished walking up the stairs and saw that there were three rooms.

The first door had the same pinkish-yellow sun that Otis described on it.

The second door, who Sundrop had assumed belonged to Midnight, had a bluish-black moon on it.

The third door, who Sundrop had assumed belonged to Zaniah, had a green star on it.

'Right! The Newton Star! Last thing I remember was it shattering... Did Eclipse really erase our world? If he did, then how come this dimension is still around?' Sundrop thought as he opened the door to Sunshine's bedroom.

When he entered and decided to take a look around.

The room had the same wooden floor as the rest of the orphanage but had pink walls instead of burgundy.

There was a queen-sized bed with yellow sheets, a pink comforter, and pink pillow cases, a large pink wardrobe that contained what Sundrop assumed to be dresses, a yellow wooden desk that had a pink wooden chair in front of it and two white picture frames that each contained a photograph, and a long rectangle-shaped mirror on the wall that had a pink border around it.

Sundrop walked closer to the bed as he took off the bow on his tail and saw that there was a white button-up shirt, a pair of black dress pants, a pair of white socks, and a pair of black loafers on the bed.

He placed the bow on the shirt and got to untying the ribbons on both of his wrists.

'That dream... Was it an actual dream or did I have a premonition?' Sundrop thought as he finished untying his ribbons and put them on the shoes.

Sundrop turned around and opened the door to Sunshine's bathroom.

There was indeed a bubble bath already made in the white bathtub that had a gold faucet on it.

Sundrop took off the robe and put it over the white towel rack and got into the bathtub.

'This is actually pretty nice! Maybe I should start doing bubble baths if I ever go home...' Sundrop thought with a smile as he settled in.

After he got himself clean enough, he drained the bath water and got out of the tub.

He then grabbed a large pink towel and used it to dry himself off.

He made sure that none of his paint had chipped off as he put the towel into a bin that was labeled "Dirty Laundry".

He also put the robe into the bin to make sure he did not leave it on the rack by accident.

Sundrop then left the bathroom and began to change into the clothes on the bed.

Once he was finished changing he put his ribbons and bow back on.

He looked into the mirror and was surprised at how different he looked in Midnight's clothing.

"I actually don't look that bad..." Sundrop thought out loud as he began to pose in front of the mirror.

He stopped himself after realizing he was acting like Roxanne, which made him remember that she was gone too.

'Roxanne... I actually miss her...' Sundrop thought as he glanced at the two photographs.

He picked the first frame up and looked at it.

The photograph showed a young woman with a animatronic like Sundrop but was instead a female.

The woman seemed to be around twenty one years old by the time the photograph was taken.

She had long red hair, tan skin, and green eyes.

She wore a green long sleeved sweater dress, a pair of black tights, a pair of green pumps, a gold bracelet on her right wrist, and a pair of gold hoop earrings.

The animatronic looked almost like Sundrop but she had light yellow skin, seven golden yellow triangles that acted like sunrays around her head, pink LED eyes, white teeth, a dark pink tongue, and a long pink tail with a light yellow sun that had seven dark yellow triangles that acted like sunrays on it on the tip of her tail.

She wore a pink tulle gown with a corset and a sweetheart neckline, a pair of pink platform sandals, a pair of pink gloves, a pair of pink star-shaped stud earrings, and a white bow with a gold star-shaped gemstone on the center of it on her tail.

'So that's Sunshine... The resemblance is almost uncanny...' Sundrop thought as he put the picture back and picked up the other.

It seemed to be a wedding photo that showed Sunshine and another animatronic that looked like Moondrop, who Sundrop assumed to be Midnight.

He had highlighted white skin on the right side of his body and dark black skin on the left side of his body, blue LED eyes, white teeth, a light blue tongue, and a long light blue tail with a white full moon on the tip of his tail.

He also wore a black suit over a dark blue shirt, a light blue tie, a pair of dark blue dress pants, a pair of brown dress shoes, and a black bow with a blue star-shaped gemstone on the center of it on his tail.

Sunshine wore a white long-sleeved wedding dress with an ankle-length skirt, a pair of white strappy sandals, a pair of white gloves, a white veil, and a pair of white rose-shaped stud earrings.

'They look so happy here...' Sundrop thought with a small smile as he put the photograph back.

"So, this is what your life would have been like," a female voice remarked.

Sundrop gasped as he fell onto the floor.

He groaned in pain as the voice giggled.

"Ow... Who-"

His voice faltered as he looked up and saw a humanoid figure who looked as though she was floating in the air and sat in a cross-legged position.

She had waist-length bahia red hair, fair skin, and velvet red eyes.

Her makeup consisted of red blush, black mascara, dark red eyeliner, light red eyeshadow, red matte lipstick, and red nail polish on her fingers.

She wore a white long-sleeved dress with a red ribbon tied around her waist and into a bow on her back and an ankle-length skirt, a pair of white ballet flats with red sequins all over them, and a silver necklace with a red ruby star-shaped gemstone pendant hanging from it.

"Sorry! It's just... You're actually really funny. Just like Father always said," The girl said as she uncrossed her legs and got into a standing position.

"Who the heck are you? And how'd you get in here?" Sundrop asked as he got off the floor and pointed a finger at the girl.

"Careful! You might shoot out some unneeded magic!" the girl said as she put her hands up in a surrender.

"Unneeded magic? I don't even know any magic! My brother is the only one who does it," Sundrop said as he put his finger down.

"Well, technically you have magic now..." the girl said as she put her hands down.

Sundrop was confused.

He didn't know how to use magic nor ever wanted to use it.

"You might want to look into your pocket..." the girl said.

Sundrop complied and went into the pocket of his new pants and pulled out what appeared to be a red crystal shard with a black cord tied around it and a silver clasp on the tips, making it seem like a necklace.

"What is..." Sundrop began to say until he touched it.

Suddenly, a jolt of energy went through his body.

Now he knew why it felt so familiar.

"Is this..."

"Yes. That's the Newton Star. At least, one of its shards. My shard to be exact," the girl explained as she pointed to yourself.

"Are you..." Sundrop trailed off.

"Yes. My sisters and I were once a part of the Newton Star. When Eclipse shattered it, we ended up being scattered. I also gained a humanoid form. I tried to speak to you the other day but you ended up becoming unresponsive until now," she explained.

"I am so sorry... This is all my fault! If I had just been stronger..." Sundrop said with anger.

"It's not your fault, Sundrop. No one could have known what Eclipse really wanted, not even myself or my sisters," the girl said as she placed her right hand on Sundrop's left shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Thanks..." Sundrop said with a smile as he put on the shard necklace. "By the way... Do you have a name or do I just call you Star?"

"You can call me Starlight. Or Star. Either one's fine," Starlight said as she took her hand off of his shoulder.

"Um... Don't want to be rude either but... What are your pronouns?" Sundrop asked.

"She/Her. Though, me and my sisters are technically genderless. So, I don't mind," Starlight replied with a smile.

Sundrop smiled back.

"By the way, do you-"

"Mr. Sundrop? Are you done with your bath? Ms. Sunshine told me to tell you that breakfast is ready!" Marle said through the door.

Sundrop panicked.

"Starlight? Quick question... Am I the only one who can see you right now?" he asked, keeping his voice as low as possible.

"Only you and anyone else who has a Star Shard. Although, children are known to be more connected to the "spiritual side". But we should be okay," Starlight replied.

"Alright," Sundrop said as he walked to the door and opened it.

"Wow... You look great in Mr. Midnight's clothes!" Marle complimented.

"Thanks, Marle. By the way... Is Mr. Midnight here right now?" Sundrop replied.

"Yep! He just came back from waterfowl hunting! Come on!" Marle said as she ran down the stairs.

Sundrop was about to yell at Marle to not run, but stopped himself.

He reminded himself that this was not his home, meaning he did not have any real authority right now.

He sighed as Starlight floated behind him and they both left Sunshine's room.

[datauthorress]

;love me (like you love the sun); [Chapter 1]

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes / Original Female Character

Summary: “I should be afraid of you.” she whispered against his lips.

In which Shelby, a Sensitive with Mediumship abilities and a Guardian Demon, meets Sherlock Holmes, a powerful and alluring vampire.

Rating: E

Warnings: Gore and Violence, Vampire! Sherlock, Canon-Divergent, Supernatural Elements, Suicide Attempt Mention

“Inspector Lestrade? Miss O’viere has just arrived on scene.”

         “Let her in.”

         Donovan gave a nod to Lestrade and left the building, allowing another, younger woman into the room and towards the crime scene. She didn’t appear to be any older than her mid-twenties, but Lestrade knew she was just about 30-years old. She was about average height and had short, dark brown hair that was mostly slicked back besides a few strands falling across her forehead, and had a pair of hazel-colored eyes with a thin ring of blue around her pupils, and a pair of rainbow themed glasses with wide lenses.

         She was wearing an outfit that complimented her figure quite nicely. A pair of black skinny jeans with a couple of rips in the thighs, a white tank top with a worn, but still in good condition leather jacket that had a hood connected to it, and a pair of shin high boots that hugged her shins. She had several piercings on both of her ears and was wearing a few necklaces, along with a long chain that had a single, black key hanging from it.

         At her side, the woman was leaning her weight on a cane, and a shoulder bag over her shoulder.

         “Hello,” the woman smiled. “I’m sorry I’m late. The cabbie was new and went down the wrong road.”

         “That’s quite alright. Miss O’viere, was it?” Lestrade asked, holding his hand out for her to shake.

         “Shelby, please.” She replied, moving towards Lestrade to shake his hand. “Thank you for having me on your team, Inspector.”

         “It’s my pleasure. We could certainly benefit from your experience.” He nodded. “Your resume was quite impressive, and your references were out of this world.”

         “Ah, thank you.” Shelby smiled. “So. What are we looking at?”

         They turned towards the crime scene, which was gruesome beyond words. There was a broken circle in the middle of the room, having been drawn on the cement with bright red chalk. The symbols in and around the circle were easy to recognize.

         Demonic symbols.

         Used for summoning demons.

         There was a body in the middle of the circle, or what was left of a body. It had been torn completely in half at the waist, the top half was all the remained. Dried blood and internal organs were strewn all over the circle, painting the red chalk even darker.

         “Any information?” Shelby asked with a soft sigh.

         “Charles McAdams, 25-years old and had a history of schizophrenia, according to his medical records. No parents, but one older sibling that said Charles had been doing fairly well for almost a year.” Lestrade replied.

         “What happened up to this point?” Shelby asked.

         “According to his sister, Charles had began to relapse about three days ago. She had been working on getting him admitted back to the hospital, but he disappeared from the home, shouting something about summoning “him”.”

         “Hmm,” Shelby mused.

         She released a soft grunt when she knelt down on one knee, examining the circle more closely. After a moment, she stood back up. “Something definitely came through,”

         “How do you know?” Lestrade asked.

         “The circle was obviously correct, the symbols all in the right place.” Shelby pointed out. “Whatever came through was hungry, and more than likely ate the other half of Charles.”

         “Jesus, she sounds like him.” Anderson snorted.

         “Lestrade! The freak is here!” Donovan called from outside.

         “Speak of the devil,” Anderson muttered.

         Shelby turned her attention to the door as a tall, slender man clad in black trousers and a black coat walked into the room. His skin was pale, his hair black and curly.

         And his eyes were blood red.

         Vampire.

         “What’s a vampire doing working for Scotland Yard?” Shelby asked, turning to Lestrade with a raised eyebrow.

         “He doesn’t work for Scotland Yard. You could say he’s helped us on more cases than I can count on all my fingers and toes.” Lestrade replied.

         Shelby turned her attention back to the newcomer, who stared down at her with those red eyes of his. After a moment, she held out her hand to him. “Shelby O’viere, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

         The man’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he reached out as well and shook her hand. It was easy to feel the insane strength behind the shake. “Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective.” He introduced.

         “So you’re the famous Sherlock Holmes,” Shelby said with a slight grin. “I’ve heard a lot about you, detective.”

         “Enlighten me,” Sherlock drawled.

         “Maybe later,” Shelby said.

         “What have we got?”

         Lestrade explained the same thing that he had done to Shelby, and once Shelby gave her input on what had happened, Sherlock spoke. “What makes you believe something came through?”

         “As what I said before, and the energy around the circle. Whatever came through was a few hours ago, but the energy is still here.” Shelby replied, kneeling back down in front of the circle. She reached into her bag and brought out a small, thin case and what was inside was white and red chalk. “And from the way the energy feels, the entity that came through is definitely demonic and of….about average strength. Strong, but not as strong as one of the Seven Deadly Sins.”

         “Seven Deadly Sins?” Anderson questioned.

         “Seven Sins, Seven Princes of Hell. Powerful demons that command over parts of Hell, and although there are nine Levels, the Seven Sins rule over seven Levels, while the other two are ran by other demons.” Shelby explained. “Lucifer is the most powerful of the Princes, being that he is the Devil.”

         “So Lucifer is what sin?” Lestrade asked.

         “Pride.” Shelby nodded. “Lucifer was the most beautiful of all the Angels and when he raged war against his Father, he and the other angels were cast out of Heaven forever.”

         “Back to the case,” Lestrade cleared his throat.

         “Of course. So whatever came through the circle is strong, but again, not as strong as one of the Sins. It can be defeated with the proper tools,”

         “Can you break the circle?” Sherlock asked.

         “Yes.”

         Shelby drew onto the circle with white chalk, adding a few symbols around it before she placed her hand in the middle of it. The white circle glowed, and next, the red circle. It glowed with the same ferocity of the white one and within seconds, a dark mist rose from the red circle and vanished quickly into the air.

         “There,” Shelby said, removing her hand. “The circle is harmless now, although I would suggest cleaning this up so someone doesn’t get curious and remake it.”

         Shelby stood up with a small wince, wiping her hands on a wet wipe that she had produced from her bag.

         “If I may ask,” Sherlock began, getting the young woman’s attention. “How do you know so much about demonic beings?”

         “I’ve had my fair share of encounters, Sherlock.” Shelby replied. “Ever since I can remember, I’ve always been sensitive to the supernatural. I started doing research when I was about twelve.”

         “Interesting,” he muttered and slowly approached her, to which he noticed she didn’t back away from him. “You have knowledge in the supernatural that would surpass even the oldest human who had done research all of his life. You’re not just an occult specialist,”

         Shelby stared up at him with a hard look.

         “You’re a Demon Hunter. And besides that, you hunt more than just Demons.” Sherlock deduced, causing Lestrade and Anderson’s eyes to widen.

         Shelby was quiet for a moment before a smile broke across her features and she chuckled softly. “No wonder they call you the Consulting Detective. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve had my fair share of encounters with the supernatural, other entities included.”

         “Fascinating,” Sherlock mused. “Yes, you’ll do. I’m looking for a flat mate to help share the rent. I already know you don’t have a place to call home quite yet, so you should move in with me.”

         “Sherlock, I just met you not even a half hour ago.” Shelby said, shaking her head. “I’m not going to move in with someone I just met.”

         “Shelby O’viere,”

         “Shit, Sherlock-!” Lestrade cursed, quickly covering his and Anderson’s eyes.

         Shelby glanced up into Sherlock’s eyes with her own wide ones. His were glowing with the brightness of a blood red moon, bright in the sky. “You will come home with me.” Sherlock finished, his eyes locked with Shelby’s.

         Shelby was quiet for a long, agonizing moment before she smiled softly and shook her head, causing Sherlock’s eyes to widen in shock. “Thanks, but no thanks, Sherlock. I’ll find a place on my own.”

         Sherlock frowned, looking as if his ego had been stomped on repeatedly. He let loose a quiet growl underneath his breath before leaving the room quickly.

         “How in the bloody hell did you do that?!” Anderson exclaimed.

         “Ah, I have my ways.” Shelby smiled.

         “I’ll drive you back,” Lestrade offered.

         ~ ~ ~

         TWO DAYS LATER

         “I believe Inspector Lestrade left some files for me? Shelby O’viere is the name.”

         The receptionist handed Shelby a file folder and immediately recoiled back in her seat, her eyes fixated on someone next to Shelby. Shelby glanced to her right, seeing the tall, intimidating figure of Sherlock Holmes standing there, staring down at her.

         “Oh, hello. Sherlock, was it?” she asked, taking the file folder from the receptionist.

         “Yes,” Sherlock rumbled.

         “It’s 7 o’clock, detective. You woke up at six, correct?” Shelby asked, and Sherlock huffed. “Of course I know the sleeping schedule of vampires, most of them at least.”

         Shelby turned on her heel and walked towards the entrance of the station, with Sherlock following her. “How long have you known about vampires?” he asked, curious.

         “As long as I’ve known about most things, when I started my research at twelve-years old.” Shelby replied as they walked outside. “I’ve done research on different cultures, mythical and mythology, as well as the paranormal.”

         “Hmmph,” Sherlock said. “Have you eaten yet?”

         “Not since breakfast this morning, why?”

         “There’s a Chinese place just at the end of Baker Street.” Sherlock replied, and saw her raised eyebrow. “Don’t give me that look. I can go into an actual restaurant. Besides, I already fed today.”

         “Oh, well, then. Sure.”

         Sherlock flagged down a taxi for them.

         ~

         “How long have you been a vampire?”

         “500 years,” Sherlock replied. “How long have you known about the paranormal?”

         “Since I was eight-years old.” Shelby answered, swallowing down the forkful of noodles down her throat. “How did you turn?”

         “Accident involving a gun.” Sherlock said, sitting back. “What happened to your leg?”

         “Car accident, also took my uterus.” She answered, not seeming to be offended or shy of answering.

         “So you had a hysterectomy?”

         “Yes, a full one. My organs were too damaged for them to remain in my body, so I had emergency surgery to have them removed. And before you ask, no, I don’t miss it.” Shelby explained. “I also never wanted children in the first place, so I don’t miss having a uterus at all.”

         “And the car accident took your leg?” he asked, raising a brow.

         “I still have my leg, yes, but the bones were completely shattered. I had seven surgeries to try and correct the damage, but I grew tired of being poked and experimented on.” Shelby said, shaking her head. “So I deal with the pain with medication.”

         “You weren’t driving when the accident happened.”

         “No, I wasn’t. My sister was. She was drunk.”

         “I see, and you can’t forgive her.” He said.

         “No, I can’t. Not after the fact that she could have told our parents that she had been drinking, but she didn’t and I paid the price for her mistake.” Shelby sighed, taking a long drink of her soda.

         There was silence between them as she finished eating.

         “Move in with me,” Sherlock offered.

         “Sherlock, we barely know each other.” Shelby sighed.

         “And?”

         “You’re not going to give this up, are you?”

         “Nope.”

         “Let me see the place and I’ll think about it,” she said.

         After eating, Shelby followed Sherlock up Baker Street until they came to a building, named 221B Baker Street. He opened the door for her and let her in first, before he shut the door behind them and took her up the stairs and into the flat.

         “Wow,” Shelby said in awe, glancing around the flat. “This is nice, very nice actually. I assume there’s another bedroom, probably upstairs if I’m correct.”

         “Who said anything about needing two bedrooms?”

         “Eh?” Shelby asked, confusion etched within her voice.

         Before she could do anything, Sherlock was in front of her, standing close to her body. Cold hands cupped her warm cheeks, and before she could utter a word, Sherlock pressed his lips against hers. Shelby blinked once, twice, then a third time while she tried to believe this was really happening. She was being kissed by a gorgeous vampire – no, a gorgeous man. Sherlock was dark and beautiful, deadly and strong, and yet, she found herself melting into his touch as she began to recuperate the kiss.

         It had been a long time since she had kissed someone, not since her crush had kissed her in high school to have her know what a kiss actually felt like, and a good one at that. She released her cane from her hands and grasped Sherlock’s broad shoulders, her lips molding perfectly with his once he deepened the kiss.

         “I should be afraid of you,” she whispered against his lips.

         “You should be,” he agreed, his hands moving away from her face to grab the lapels of her leather jacket.

         His teeth nipped at her bottom lip, his tongue soothing the bite before his tongue slipped between her lips and into her warm mouth. She released a soft mewl into the kiss, her hands clutching onto his coat. Sherlock’s cold hands moved her jacket off of her shoulders and down her arms, letting the heavy fabric fall to the floor. Shelby did the same with his coat, hearing it hit the floor as well.

         “Sherlock,” she gasped into the kiss.

         “Beautiful,” he murmured, one hand staying on her back while the other maneuvered down further and squeezed her ass through her jeans.

         Shelby squeaked and pulled out of the kiss to breath, a thin string of saliva connecting them before it broke. “W-wait, this is so sudden….” She panted.

         “You’re a virgin,” he concluded.

         “Y-yes, but that’s not the point. We barely know each other, and I….” Shelby’s voice trailed off into a shiver when Sherlock’s lips pressed a kiss onto her throat.

         “You’re right,” he murmured. “There’s one thing I want to know.”

         “Which is?” she asked.

         “How did you resist the thrall? No talisman, or protective enchantments can protect a human from a vampire’s thrall, especially in their own territory?” Sherlock asked, glancing up at her.

         Shelby should have know that question was going to come up. She released a soft sigh. “It’s a bit of a long, complicated story.”

         “We have all the time in the world,” he assured her.

         “Right,” she nodded.

         ~

         “I always had a hunch I was different, per say. I was more sensitive to people’s emotions, people I could see and people I couldn’t see.” Shelby began, holding the cup of coffee in her hands, as she and Sherlock had taken a seat on the couch. “When I was eight years old, I saw my first ghost. My great-grandfather. He just smiled at me and waved, before vanishing. That was the start of my encounters with the paranormal.”

         “And it grew after that,” he said.

         “Yes. By the time I was twelve, I could see and hear spirits and entities all around me, asking me for help on where to go. It wasn’t until I was thirteen when I could help them cross over to the other side, wherever they were supposed to go.” She explained. “But by the time I was 14, things took a turn for me. I experienced a series of events that made me believe I was supposed to die. At 14, I tried to kill myself because the bullying in school had become incredibly bad. At 15, I was struck by lightning and barely survived,”

         That explained the Lichtenburg Figure on her neck and chest, Sherlock mused.

         “At 16, was the car accident, as you already know.” Shelby said, taking another sip of her coffee. “I had died. I had met another spirit that was going to supposedly guide me to my afterlife, but another had come by and told them that it wasn’t my time yet. And because the universe had wanted me dead so badly, I was appointed a guardian.”

         “An angel?” Sherlock questioned.

         “No…a demon. A Guardian Demon, one who had been working on his sins for a very long time and had been given a chance to secure his own paradise.” Shelby replied. “He reminds me of my father, to be honest. He’s extremely protective and wants to make sure I’m safe at all times.”

         “Is he here now?” Sherlock asked.

         “Yes, he’s listening right now.” She nodded. “He was going to attack you, when you kissed me, but he decided not to once I returned it.”

         “Is he the reason why a vampire’s thrall doesn’t affect you?”

         “He’s the only reason it doesn’t affect me,” she nodded.

         “I see.” Sherlock said softly.

         “Sherlock,” Shelby called his name softly and she reached out to place a warm hand on his own cold one. “I’m not sure what to make of this, but the last thing I want for you is to get hurt. Things follow me, wanting to know why I’m being protected by a Guardian Demon. And they get violent sometimes. I don’t know what it is…but I feel as though I’ve known you for a very long time.”

         Sherlock turned his hand over and squeezed her hand gently, his touch gentle despite the strength in it. He cupped the side of her neck with his other hand and leaned forward to press his lips against hers in a tender kiss. Shelby returned it with a soft hum, to which she pulled away when she heard Sherlock’s cellphone ding.

         Sherlock sighed in annoyance and pulled out his phone, checking his messages. “It’s Lestrade. He said that we’ve got another half-torn body.”

         “Ah, then the demon must be close.” Shelby said with a nod.

         Shelby stood and took her cup over to the kitchen, where she finished the remainder of the coffee and rinsed it out.

         “Shelby,” Sherlock said, his hand taking hers once more.

         “Yes,”

         “I’ll protect you,” he promised. “You have my word, my promise. And I vow to always protect you, no matter what.”

         Shelby smiled up at him. “I promise the same, to vow and be there for you, no matter what. Now let’s go kick some demon ass.”