#she's got (at least) two hearts in her design AND she's full of love so she should at least be partially immune

[explodingcelebi]

lovey bibis fanart! @rainbow-neko-artblog 's Mono loves hearts AND loves love, so Gali wanted to show off her own hearts to them~

...their canon is pretty horrific, but plucked from it they're just a big ol lovebug...good thing Gali is a pro at plucking peeps from canon AND loving~

the font is Monster Friend Fore!

thought it'd look good textless, and of course, just the 'bis themselves~ transparency willing, of course...

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Peach Part 1 of 2 (Rafe Cameron Two Shot) +18

+ 18 Minor DNI

CollegeStudent!Rafe x Ward’sSugarBaby!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

📖 Rafe has a thing for his dad’s sugar baby (reader)

🪄 Warnings: somnophilia (lol), secluded yet public oral, cheating, swearing, degradation, name-calling, pet names, oral (fem. receiving), oral (male receiving), ownership kink, reader’s a sugar baby, rough sex, nipple play, choking, creampie, & cum play, no use of y/n but everyone refers to her as the pet name Peach, softish rafe but he’s kinda mean here and ther

✨ Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation. ✨

2K

Reader’s POV:

“I mean it is a little much for Midsommers, Peach, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Ward gives you a cheeky smile as he unwinds a little more on the dressing room couch, eyes combing over your curves from the reflection of the mirror. “I love dressing you up, princess. Love showing off my little doll around the fellas. Can you blame me? You’re flawless.” He winks and smiles as he lifts his champagne flute to his lips, taking a sip.

“Thank you. I love it,” you praise, running your hands down the delicate black satin, purposely running over the fullness of your breasts, guiding his focus off your eyes. “I think this will go really well with those black Jimmy Choo pumps you bought me.”

Ward smiles and shakes his head ‘no’ as he crosses his strong arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m going let you re-wear a pair of date night heels, baby? We need to buy you somethin’ new. You deserve it. Very sweet for you to be mindful of Daddy’s pocket,” he lauds as he taps the wallet tucked into the pocket of his designer blazer. “That’s just one of the many, many reasons you have my heart, sugar,” Ward mumbles as he rises to his feet, eyes trained on your body. “That, and the fact that I just can’t believe you’re mine,” he mumbles before his lips meet your neck, kissing gently as he works his way to your ear. “I love takin’ care of you.” You tip your head slightly, resting your cheek against his, the two of you matching each other’s gaze in the mirror.

“We look good together, Cameron,” you coo. He wraps his arms around you, kissing your bare shoulder before resting his chin on top.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, Peach. This looks so pretty on you. You’re stunning. You probably need something just as pretty underneath. Don’t you agree?”

You nuzzle into his cheek, making him chuckle warmly. “You spoil me, daddy… Of course, I agree. Something pretty you can take off me later,” you flirt, just stoking the fire.

“Baby girl…” He gushes, the apples of his cheeks reddening.

“Sorry… I can’t help it.”

“No, baby. I love it. Oh, I booked a hair and nail appointment for you, so I won’t see you until you arrive. I have to be at the Island Club a little early. You can just catch a ride with Rafe. I’ll meet you at the car and we can walk in together. Alright?”

You fix your face, trying your best to seem unfazed by even the mere mention of his son’s name.

Rafe Cameron…

Truthfully, I was about to make my move during parents’ weekend. Then, I laid eyes on Ward. Rafe’s old man… handsome, sweet, thoughtful. It was too hard to pass up the chance to be taken care of. And, taken care of I was. Student loan debt canceled, school-year paid in cash, trips, lavish dinners, anything and everything his little Peach wants she gets. But even with all of that, I can’t help but be drawn to Rafe. I still get butterflies when he passes me on his way to class or when he looks my way in the library.

Even after I got with Ward I’d still try to finagle my way into staying on campus for the weekend so I could hit up a house party or bump into him at the bar. Ward made sure that didn’t happen, pleading with me to spend most of my free time at Tanneyhill. Ward is so sweet when he begs. And, how can I possibly deny the man cutting the checks?

“Peach? Is that okay? He seemed pretty happy about getting to know you a little better,” Ward smiles as he fixes the strap of your gown.

“No, Daddy. It’s perfect.”

You look down at the vanity, watching your phone buzz. Your heart skips a beat as you see his name written across it, causing the usual butterflies to swirl. How would this play out? What would Rafe say?

To the rest of the family I was just some girl; maybe someone Ward picked up at the country club or some overpriced boutique downtown. Sarah and Wheezie were too unbothered to care. How would Rafe take this? Would he even recognize me?

The buzzing stops, pulling you out of your daze as you watch the incoming call shift to missed. Shit. Headlights beam outside as Rafe’s large truck rolls up the drive just as your phone dings. Voicemail – Rafe Cameron You lift the phone to your ear, hearing that familiar voice.

“Uhh… Peach? It’s Ward’s son, Rafe. I’m out front if you’re ready to head out. Don’t know if you need a few more minutes or whatever. Just let me know.” BEEP. The message ends, the eldest Cameron’s tone short and uninterested. Maybe he knows who I am and truly doesn’t care.

You look down at your body, wrapped in a pretty pink robe; dress still hanging up in the corner of Ward’s room. It had been a long day of shopping and pampering, leaving you late. The muffled sound of Rafe’s truck door kickstarts your heart. You unfasten the bow around your waist, letting the material fall off your body and onto a puddle on the floor as you hustle toward your gown.

You step into the number, stumbling slightly; looping the delicate straps over your shoulders before smoothing out the front.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Umm… One second, Rafe,” you call.

“Of course.” You hear his deep voice in person, making you suck in a nervous breath. Reaching behind your back you struggle for the zipper, craning your wrist to get it to close. “Uhh… You need some help in there?” Rafe asks, making your eyes widen as you stand in front of the mirror again, looking back at yourself dumbly.

Of course, I want his help. I’m sure if I struggle a little more I could get it to word. But do I want to?

“Rafe,” you call out his name, voice broken with nervousness. “I could use your help.”

Rafe’s POV:

What the actual fuck. I stand behind her, eyes falling down the length of her bare back to her open zipper. Nothing but soft skin and satin; the small zipper resting just below her g-string. I’ve gotta move slowly. No way I could step out from behind her like this. My hard-on pushes against my dress pants, straining the zipper. I let my fingers trail her skin ever so slightly, tugging the material together reluctantly before pulling it closed.

I had no idea it was going to be her when she accepted my offer… Lucky me.

“How are you, sweetheart,” I mumble from behind her, catching her gaze in the mirror.

“Umm… I’m good. How are you?” She asks sweetly.

“Great. I’m fine,” I hum, not moving from my place behind her, ambling a little closer. I can’t fucking help myself. Her lashes flutter at the closeness between the two of us. “Just came from campus.”

“Yeah? Umm… We go to the same school,” she starts, like I wasn’t painfully aware.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do. I know exactly who you are. And you and my dad are-”

“Dating?” She answers, her calm demeanor veiling her shame, just a sliver of it still peeking through. “No. We’re friends? Companions… I-”

I let out a raspy chuckle, saving her the strain as she flounder in front of me, panic painting her beautiful face. “Nah, Peach. I understand,” I smirk. She lifts her eyebrow, letting out an airy laugh herself. “He’s battin’ way out of his league with you. I must say.”

I lean in a little closer, letting the warmth of my voice fan across the column of her neck, making her head fall back slightly as she tilts closer. My large hands rest on her hips, all my primal urges pushing me to bend her over, hands on the glass, dress around her hips, my fat cock fucking in and out as I watch her go absolutely dumb on my dick. But I resist.

Why the fuck are you with Ward? You’re too beautiful… You’re only wasting your time with my old man. What is he givin’ you that I can’t? Money? Is that what you’re after, babydoll?

Good thing I have that too.

“Nice to see you, man,” Kelce smiles as he pulls me in for a half-hug, cutting off my view of her. I pull him to the side, giving me the perfect sightline.

Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation.

She looks down, eyeing her clutch as she feels the rumble of her phone. Her eyes lift, catching mine like she knows exactly what’s to come, without seeing the message at all. I give her a knowing nod as I stroll away.

In a room full of people she knows just where I am. She’s got her eye on me. Atta girl.

Reader’s POV

Well… if there was any question if that text was from Rafe or not that nod answered my question. My excitement leaves a steady pulse between my thighs as I try my best to act normally. He’s trying to get me alone.

“I’m going to run to the restroom,” you whisper in Ward’s ear, kissing him gently on the cheek before wiping some sparkly gloss off his stubble. He gives you a little pat on your bum and a wink.

“Gonna finish up this conversation, Peach, and I’ll find you. M’Kay?” He hums. “15 minutes tops.”

“Of course,” you smile, nodding quickly before excusing yourself, nabbing out your phone as you step toward where Rafe was headed, rushing to read what he had to say.

Holy shit.

Your phone glows as you reread the text messages sent by Rafe wandering down the hallway as you take in each word, considering your options. Am I doing this? Should I turn him down? Let him know he read this all wrong? That he’s overstepping-

“There she is,” you hear his low voice from behind you. His large hand wraps around your arm, tugging you back fast, pulling you into the dark room before slamming the lock shut.

“Rafe?” You gasp just as his lips collide with yours, the two of you running high on adrenaline; teeth clashing, tongues rolling. Your long nails scratch through the hair at the nape of his neck, making him moan into your kiss as he backs you against the wooden door.

“Didn’t even take any convincing to get you back here, baby girl. What do you have to say for yourself?” He mumbles against your lips as he paws for the bottom of your dress, bunching it up higher and higher.

“Rafe. I-”

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, princess. You want me. I need you. Bet you’re so fuckin’ wet for me. You gonna let me check?” He rasps, catching your moans between his lips.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want,” he taunts as his lips brush yours, his rough fingers grazing the soaked spot on your panties.

“I want you, Rafe. I want your… Fuck. I want your fingers,” you whimper, starting small, knowing full-well he’ll talk you into more; just making yourself feel less guilty about the whole ordeal by asking for the bare minimum like that even matters.

“Just my fingers. Huh?” He teases. Not buying the angelic ruse for a moment. “You don’t want my lips, doll? You don’t need my cock?”

“Shit,” you whine as your legs draw together; his filthy words fillling you ear, drunk off the taste of his lips, just thinking about more. Rafe grips your thighs, opening you up further before pressing his fingers against your sex. Your head falls back, knocking softly against the door as a drawn-out moan tumbles from your lips.

“Did that get you a little excited?” He chuckles, darkly against your neck, licking and nipping at that special spot that has you whimpering like a pathetic slut.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I got excited, Rafe… I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you whisper.

“Mhmm… Haven’t stopped thinking about me and my fingers?” He bullies as he lifts you into his arms. You wrap yours around his neck, lessening the space between you further, your wetness surely transferring onto his white button-down as your legs wrap around his trim waist.

“Yeah,” you stammer, making Rafe suck his teeth and smile against your mouth.

“Stop trying to be a good girl, princess. I know what you are,” he growls. Your heart falls, breaking slightly as he hits you with the truth; Rafe opening his mouth before you can even defend yourself. “You want money… I want you. I can take care of you in more ways than one. I promise that. Got more money than him. I’m a better fuck. Let me prove it to you, angel. I know you’re a slut for cash alright. So am I. The game sees the game alright? But, you probably need proof… Let me fuck this pretty pussy, ma. Show you how much better off you’ll be with me. I wanna be your daddy. Aight? Not him. Not Ward. Rafe.”

You draw a deep breath, head spinning as he lays you back on the locker room couch. You claw for him, desperate for Rafe’s lips on you again. Rafe rips away your little lace panties, spreading your thighs before eyeing your glistening slit with a hungry groan. “Tell me what you want. You can speak. Can’t you?” He snaps impatiently as you fumble over your words. “Words.”

“You-”

“Fuck it. I can’t wait – need your pussy.”

“S-Shit,” you whine. “Just – Just your fingers Rafe…” He brushes your dripping folds with his thick digits, gathering your essence before stuffing them in his mouth, sucking them clean as his eyes roll back. “Let me eat you, baby. C’mon,” he pleads. You watch him wet his bottom lip, savoring the taste of whatever’s left of you.

“Damnit, Rafe. Your lips too… Fuck. Hurry. Your dad’s meeting me soon.”

“Little now. Little later,” he huffs as his strong arms loop around your thighs, pulling you closer than before, lowering you onto the cushion. Rafe’s gaze stays on yours as his lips latch on your clit, sucking and brushing his tongue from side to side.

He moans against your cunt as his fingers toy with your entrance, teasing you with the chilled ridges of his gold ring. Your thighs tremble, tightening around him. “Enough of that,” he slurs, spreading your legs wider, sucking and finger-fucking you with a little more muscle. “Can’t wait for you to suck my cock. Can’t wait to get you off,“ he mumbles against your heat. You look toward the door, watching a shadow pass underneath. The music blares from behind it. Is it loud enough? You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back your cries of pleasure.

“You taste like heaven, honey,” he pants, bumping his nose against your clit as his tongue dips into your hole. Rafe grabs your legs, slinging them over his broad shoulders, getting even closer. He laps at your pussy, devouring you. Rafe breathes deeply, taking in your scent, eyes shutting softly, the vibration of a moan felt against your cunt. He takes your clit in his mouth sucking hard, making you cry out, spiked heels digging into his strong back as you buck your hips.

“Fuck, Rafe. M’right there,” you blubber. You reach for your dress straps, tugging down the top, letting your tits bounce free. Your hands instantly draw up to your chest, clutching and pushing them together. Rafe bites down on your swollen clit, making you toss your head back. Strangled cries spills from your lips. Your hands drop down, weaving into his blonde fringe giving it a rough tug as you grind your pussy on his face, feeling yourself wavering on the edge of bliss.

“Peach?” You hear Ward call from outside the door, making your eyes double in horror. Rafe doesn’t stop, increasing his pace even. His eyes flick to yours, solidifying the evident. He wants Ward to hear. Your hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your cries. Rafe reaches up, snatching your wrist as your body betrays you, eyes screwing shut at you cum on Rafe’s tongue, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

Rafe works you through your orgasm, waiting until you’re fully relaxed to release you with a panting breath. His mouth greets yours in a passionate kiss, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He pinches and rolls your nipples between his rough fingers before sucking down; trailing sweet kisses causing you to mewl.

“You’re mine,” Rafe whispers, nestling himself into your neck.

“Not… Fuck. Rafe, I’m not.”

“You are. Stop lyin’, princess. You know you are,” he subsists as he matches your eyes. “Lie to me and tell me that wasn’t the best you’ve ever had. I didn’t even use my dick, baby. Imagine what I could do. Huh? I know my old man isn’t doin’ any of this shit better than me.” You fight for air, looking away for a moment before he grabs your chin, demanding your focus. “Fuckin’ talk to me. Use those pretty little words that you’re holdin’ back. Enough with the games. It was painfully easy to get you in here. I know what you want-”

“Rafe… I don’t know-” Your phone vibrates, stealing your attention as well as Rafe’s as you watch back-to-back text messages come in from Ward.

Part 2

[lexo-is-pesto]

I'm so excited to finally post this.

My full Murder Drones reference! so hopefully I can keep up consistency

Obviously, this is full of my own head canons so close ups and explanations under the cut (it's a LOT) >;]

To be totally honest my focus was on the main characters, and I think that shows in the designs of the Manor Drones and Cabin Fever Squad. BUT I'll still do my best to explain my process here.

For the Disassemblers I decided to do very different builds for each but the same color pallet.

My idea here was that since each have a different designation letter, that was akin to their model type. That's also why "the company" was able to clone J so easily, they just had her model on file. (also like to imagine there are 26 different forms of the Disassemblers Imao).

I had all the colors remain the same to show their unity and of course the Absolute Solver-ification of the basic Worker Drone color scheme. Essentially, I just took the monochromatic WD colors and put the highlighter yellow over it that Cyn loves so much.

For J I did a more lean and strong build. I wanted her to exude that leader energy. I also made her Core a star shape for similar reasons and then I also noticed that N and V had caution stripes at the top of their legs but as far as I could see J didn't, so I decided to add those to the very top of her legs to finish the garter belt look she's got going on. For her hair, I actually really like the pigtails I just flattened them out a bit because the big cutesy poof they had didn't fit her style in my opinion. I brought it back for her worker form though.

With V I gave her a round yet sharp look. (My favorite added detail is the sharp shoulders) I did make her the shortest of the DD because everyone loves the small but vicious archetype. For her core I made it a sword or spear shape, because she's extra violent. And finally, I made her legs a little more pointed than J's to finish off the sharp look.

Last but CERTAINLY not least, N's design is meant to be soft and plushy but still has a little edge to it. His hair is fluffy but the tufts curl to be sharp, His core is meant to look like a heart but it's upside down so the point is still facing the top (which makes it look more like a club but whatever) I gave him a rounder torso than the other two and his elbow and kneecaps are softer too. His general construction is still menacing, though, so don't get too comfortable with all the fluff. I also spent a LONG time contemplating if I should make his thighs black to look like little biker shorts to contrast with J and V's sock looks but went against it because I love how the hazard stripes stand out against the white.

For N and V's worker forms I basically took out all the sharp edges and rounded them out. J's still a little sharp though not as much.

With the Workers I did the opposite of the DD. They have the EXACT same body types (minus Uzi because she's little) and instead I changed their color schemes to all be unique to their eye lights

Since Worker Drones were made to... well... WORK I think their initial manufacturing would be pretty uniform. A copy and paste if you will. It was only when they were left to their own devices that the WD started to customize themselves. Thus came the wigs and clothes.

I like to think the color started with those infected with the Solver, so Yeva and Nori gained color and then passed that on to their kids. Thats also why Alice has color, but Khan, The Manor Squad, and some other drones in the colony don't. Does not explain Lizzy and Thad though (maybe they have a distant relative that had the solver idk)

It was a lot harder to infer about what a base WD body would look like Maybe I was just looking in the wrong places, but I had to infer with things like the worker helmets, we see every WD except Uzi wear one but they seem more coordinated with their outfits so I decided to just continue my color head-canon that its naturally monochrome and you can customize it if you want to!

I added a light to the feet of the worker drones to match the hand lights. I don't think there's a canon reason for the lights but, on the workers at least. I think they're there to help them do grunt work in the dark! to light their ways in caves or tight spaces so they could do their job better. Now they're just another robot cosmetic

For the Parents, I gave them wrinkles because I thought it was unfair that Khan was the only one who got them. So, Nori gets crow's feet hurray! No but I probably had the most difficult time with these drones. It was hard to separate the canon from fanon since we know so little about them, but I fought off all the demons to keep their designs relatively grounded. Minus Khan's scar. And Alice's more natural horns. and-

I also gave some drones eyelashes. just cause. if I thought it fit, I added it and if it didn't, I didn't add it.

Now you may be wondering "Lexo what's up with all the cracks!?" the idea here is that it's the solver taking over. We see in Cabin Fever and Home that the solver virus fundamentally changes the body of a drone. The crack in the casing is basically this process. Depending on the stage of which your drone is at it changes the intensity. We see Cyn being the main host and essentially patient 0, so she has the most cracks. It starts at the core then spreads until it reshapes you entirely and you become a Disassembly Drone. Unless you stop it in time. Thats why J, V, and N have the pale lines on the bottom of their torso, they're more pretty and cleaner since they achieved the solvers "final form" so to speak. Nori and Yeva on the other hand, have repaired cracks but they're still messy since they were stopped mid-way. Alice, however, did not stop the spread with the solver cure since she was "abandoned" so instead she just cut out her core entirely. Yup. Shes functioning on pure insanity and spite at this point. And then of course with the new hosts, there is light spreading. TL: DR the cracks are a zombie bite.

But that's it for my Murder Drones head canons and designs! If you read all the way to the end, you're a champ and I love you. Have a cookie superstar <3🍪

[mya-valentine]

Fire and Duty

Synopsis: Thoma playfully flirts with his hardworking maid girlfriend at the Kamisato Estate, making it difficult for her to focus. Despite her attempts to stay on task, she eventually gives in to a tender moment with him.

It was another quiet morning at the Kamisato Estate. The soft rustle of leaves in the breeze mixed with the occasional distant call of a bird. The air smelled of the sea, fresh and crisp, as the sun bathed the courtyard in soft golden light. You stood by the small pond in the garden, staring at your reflection in the water as you prepared to start your tasks for the day. Being a maid at the Kamisato Estate was no easy task, but you took pride in it, knowing you played a part in maintaining the beauty of the residence. The Kamisato clan valued hard work and diligence, and you made sure to live up to their expectations.

You were wiping down the delicate stone lanterns when you felt a familiar presence behind you.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

The smooth, warm voice made your heart skip a beat. You turned your head slightly and there stood Thoma, his golden hair catching the sunlight, making him look like he had just stepped out of a painting. His red-and-black outfit, distinct from the typical attire of the Kamisato staff, added to his charm. The ever-present, easy-going smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned casually against the wooden pillar near the garden’s entrance.

"Thoma, don't you have work to do?" you said, trying to sound stern as you focused on your task, wiping down the intricate design on the lantern. You knew what was coming next—he always had a knack for appearing just when you were busiest.

He chuckled softly. "Oh, I’ve already taken care of my duties for the morning. I made sure the stables were cleaned, and I gave Taroumaru a good brushing. Now, I’ve got a bit of free time… and what better way to spend it than with my lovely girlfriend?"

You bit your lip, fighting the smile threatening to form. Thoma had always been charming and playful, a master at flustering you at the most inconvenient times.

"I'm busy, Thoma," you insisted, moving on to the next lantern. "I need to finish these before Lady Ayaka comes out for her walk."

Thoma didn’t seem deterred in the least. Instead, he stepped closer, his shadow looming over you as you continued to scrub the lantern. You could feel the heat of his body just behind you, and it was maddening how easily he could make your heart race.

"Let me help," he offered, though you knew full well that wasn’t his real intention.

"I don’t need your help. I need to finish quickly."

"But I insist," Thoma replied, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "After all, I wouldn’t want to be accused of neglecting my responsibilities."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at how close he was. Thoma reached over your shoulder, his hand gently brushing against yours as he pretended to take over the cleaning. His touch was brief but intentional, sending a shiver down your spine.

"See? Much easier when two people do it," he murmured, leaning in so close that his breath tickled your ear.

You tried to focus, but his proximity was distracting. His cologne—light and fresh, with just a hint of spice—mixed with the garden's floral scent, creating a dizzying combination that made it harder and harder to concentrate.

"Thoma, please," you whispered, your face heating up. You could feel your resolve slipping with each passing second.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing—for now."

You exhaled, finally able to focus again, but Thoma didn’t step away. Instead, he circled around you, positioning himself so that he was now facing you. He leaned back against the lantern you'd just finished cleaning, his arms crossed as he watched you with that lazy, confident grin that never failed to fluster you.

"You look cute when you’re concentrating, you know that?"

You tried to ignore him, though your face felt like it was on fire. You quickly moved to the next lantern, pretending that your work required all your attention.

He followed.

"You work so hard," he commented, his tone shifting to something softer, more sincere. "Sometimes I worry you don't take enough breaks. You deserve to relax a little, you know."

You glanced up at him, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. His green eyes were warm, filled with genuine affection. Thoma might have been playful, but there was always that undercurrent of concern when it came to you. He cared, even if he expressed it through teasing most of the time.

"I relax enough," you mumbled, feeling awkward under his gaze. "And besides, if I don't do this, who will?"

Thoma tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating your words. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he pushed off the lantern and moved even closer to you, invading your personal space once more.

"You know, there’s something else that needs attention… something that only you can take care of."

You raised an eyebrow, though you already had an inkling of what he was going to say. "And what’s that?"

Thoma leaned in, so close now that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His voice dropped to a low whisper, sending a thrill through you.

"Me."

You blinked, momentarily stunned, before giving him a light shove. "Thoma!"

He laughed, the sound bright and infectious. "Hey, I'm serious! You’re always working so hard, but who’s going to take care of me if you’re too busy? I’m a needy guy, you know."

Despite yourself, you smiled. "You’re impossible."

"I’m only impossible because you make me feel this way," Thoma replied, his tone softening again as he took your hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I love seeing you so dedicated to your work, but sometimes I just want you all to myself. Is that so bad?"

Your heart melted at his words. Thoma might have been a tease, but his feelings were always genuine. He loved you, and you knew that. You loved him too, though you weren’t always as good at expressing it.

"Thoma," you sighed, stepping closer to him, allowing yourself a moment to bask in his warmth. "I… I know. But there’s so much to do."

"I know, I know," he murmured, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you gently into his chest. "But the work will always be here. The Kamisato Estate isn’t going anywhere. Take a break with me, just for a little while."

You rested your forehead against his chest, inhaling his scent. It was tempting. So tempting. And maybe… just this once… you could indulge him.

"Alright," you whispered, feeling his arms tighten around you. "But only for a little while."

"That’s all I need," Thoma said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

And for the next few moments, you let yourself forget about your duties. You let yourself simply be with him, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Because no matter how much work there was to do, nothing felt quite as perfect as being in Thoma’s arms.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[lis-likes-fics]

Music to My Eyes

Pairings: Finnick Odair x deaf!fem!Reader Word Count: 7.5k words Warnings: Mentions of the Games, so killing and death, mentions of trauma, my attempt at writing sign language, pre-Katniss, no Annie... A/N: Hey, everyone! I watched the Hunger Games a few months ago and had a mini obsession and decided to write for it and only now just got half of my fic done. Since it was running as long as it was, I decided to go ahead and split this into two different parts, but I swear the rest of it is being planned and written. Also A/N: Just FYI, anything written in /slants/ is an indication of something being signed because explaining every little sign just does not work. And, also, Hecton Leary is absolutely done by Peter Capaldi in my mind...just in case you need a visual. I was watching a lot of Doctor Who during this so, get ready to see those intense eyebrows all over the place in this, lmao. Also Also A/N: Special thanks to my beta-reader @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen who I will be crediting more bc I literally forgot to last time and she's too amazing for that! Thanks, Vee! 💖

You don't love wearing dresses—especially not extravagant ones like these, more expensive than likely your entire district as a whole. You also don't love parties like these where you have to wear said dresses, surrounded by tons of people generating body heat and stuffing the room full of perfumes and colognes that make your nose and eyes burn. Your feet hurt from the heels your designer paired with your outfit, and the air is active with words and voices that overwhelm your brain with too much information to take.

Having Hecton beside you is a relief at least—not completely lost in a sea of people as he and you communicate with two rich sponsors from District 1 dressed just a slight less dramatic as you but just as exaggerated.

You watch their lips, painted over with bright colors complementing their attire, as they speak to you. "It must be so hard, isn't it?" the woman asks, spending too much time on "so" as she speaks slowly for you to comprehend. You want to roll your eyes. "Flailing about all the time just to get a few words out?"

The man next to her agrees, nodding his head. You can see his throat shift, and you assume he's hummed a response.

Hecton's hands move with skill as he speaks, partly as aid in translation for you but mostly for the performance people are looking for.

You feel like your lips are going to fall off, you can almost feel them twitching at the ends from how long you've been smiling at all these people who don't know anything about you and assume they know everything.

You widen your smile to show teeth and shake your head, continuing to be as respectful as you can with your social tolerance running low.

Your hands move and, out of the corner of your eye, you can see Hecton speaking as they do. "Not really," he translates. "It's natural for me."

The man puts a hand over his heart and turns to her. "Oh, you poor thing," he says rather dramatically. Hecton doesn't dignify his words by translating that for you—not that you needed it in the first place. His hands remain still, folded in front of him. The man glances toward them, and you can see his brief disappointment at his words not receiving the glory of illustration.

You glance up at Hecton, your smile intact as you slightly squint the corners of your eyes in a silent plea. He answers you gracefully, turning his attention back to the fashionable vultures in front of him.

"This was wonderful," he says, "but I believe our little lady is excited to meet other guests here tonight."

Hecton is an older man with grey hair, pale eyes, and intense brows. Upon looking at him, he isn't the most approachable man. You don't just say no to him—especially as a past victor of the Games who certainly triumphed by a long-shot. He is not weakened by age, but he's definitely wisened by it. Although sobered by surviving the horrors of the Games, it neither slowed nor ruined his life, it simply gave an abrupt end to what little childhood people of Districts like yours can obtain.

One look at the finality on his face and they were fully ready to end their (rather insulting) conversation. They turn to one another, making these awful pity-faces as they hold each other's hands and turn back to heartily agree. "Of course." She puts too much emphasis on the words. "Goodbye, dear."

You nod gently and look toward Hecton for confirmation as he places a hand on your back and turns with you. You both walk away from the conversation gratefully, still smiling for everyone else in the room but moving your hands in silent conversation.

/These people are exhausting,/ you complain, entirely within your right with the way they treat you.

Hecton sighs, looking at you with eyes that understand your struggle. /Just keep them happy./

You nod, remaining light-hearted for both your sakes as you offer a genuine smile before you slip back into a customer service front. /I know, I know./

Lots of eyes are on you tonight, but none so keen as a certain boy across the room. He has basically been watching you all night, intrigued by the way you've been communicating, by the way you draw so much attention without having spoken a single word since you arrived.

He has seen you around a few times—on television, at other parties. He knows your face and that you won the Games like him, but he's never paid enough attention to actually know anything past that. But now, observing you all night, he's interested enough to ask.

His elbow brushes the guy next to him, a victor from another district he doesn't care to specify right now. "Who is that again?" he asks, not taking his eyes off of you as his friend turns to look. "I've seen her a couple times, never remember."

He looks at you and then back at him. "Her?" he gestures vaguely toward you. He nods.

"Victor from District 10, she won the 67th Games." He takes a sip from his drink, leaning back against a table with a hand in his pocket. "Surprised everyone cause she," he shrugged, "can't hear or something."

That definitely caught his attention as he turned full bodied toward him. "Really?"

"Yeah," he swirled his drink around. "She's nice…in a little bunny sort of way." It's not necessarily an insult, more than it is him calling you soft-hearted and skittish.

He walks away without a word, finally making his way toward you to quell his curiosity as he approaches you and takes his sweet time about it.

Your back is turned to him. He briefly wonders the best way to get your attention on the way over, knowing you hate being tapped by the way your shoulders flinch and you strain a smile when you turn.

Then again, no one likes tapping.

When he reaches you, he just folds his hands behind his back and smiles. "Hello," he says simply. Hecton turns at the greeting, prompting you to do the same.

"I'm Finnick. Finnick Odair," he greets with a smile of his own as he regards the both of you. He watches the way the old man's hand moves on his name. Your hand reaches out and interrupts him as you place a gentle palm on top of his. He makes a face—it's not annoyed, just teasing.

You turn back to Finnick, your performance smiling still intact. Hecton speaks while you sign. For a moment, Finnick thinks he'll understand the movements you make—Mags doesn't speak, she has to use her hands to communicate all the time, surely it couldn't be that different—but he is proven wrong when words don't match waves.

"I know who you are. You won the 65th Games, you're from District 4." Finnick thinks, briefly, that your friend's voice doesn't match you at all (which is obvious, of course, but he feels it's worth pointing out).

"Well, then," he responds with a slight chuckle, only glancing for a moment at the way Hecton's hands move as he talks, "I'm flattered you know me. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for you…"

You seem surprised by that. He thinks it may have something to do with the way that you haven't had many moments away from conversation since you arrived. Everyone has been too taken by you, too interested in snatching a few minutes.

Your hands don't start moving in that curious way Finnick likes to watch because words are already being spoken. "Mr. Odair, this is Y/N Y/L/N. I am her mentor and translator, Hecton Leary."

Finnick holds out a hand, which each of you shake. Out of courtesy, he doesn't start talking again until after your hands are free. "Wonderful to meet you both. And, please, Finnick is fine. There's no need for formalities when we could be friends, right?"

You still smile as you begin to sign, though your brows furrow. /Why exactly do I want to be your friend?/

Finnick doesn't understand, looking at Hecton for translation. He only says your name, a sort of reprimand as he continues to smile.

/I'm only being honest./

Where you expected frustration from not understanding, you find amusement in Finnick's eyes as his genuine smile widens and he looks between the both of you. "What am I missing?"

Hecton looks at you, raising a large brow and waiting for your reply. You sigh gently and shake your head, remaining civil as you begin to sign.

"Sorry," he speaks for you. "I look forward to establishing friendship with another fellow Victor. Maybe one day we'll…" Hecton gets quiet as he just watches your hands continue to move and your lips continue to smile, full of amusement.

/We'll frolic in the woods together, holding hands and singing songs./

Hecton turns full body to you. He holds his palms apart and brings them together swiftly without clapping them. /Y/N./

You smile wider and hold your hands in surrender, the tiny sound of a giggle slipping out of you. You're otherwise silent as your hands fly. /I'm joking! Tell him it was nice to meet him, and I look forward to being friends./

Hecton eyes you momentarily before relenting, turning back to Finnick with exasperation. "She says it was a pleasure meeting you, and she looks forward to your friendship."

Finnick raises his brows, bowing his head gently. "The pleasure is all mine." He's a charmer, and he makes that clear by reaching out and slowly, softly taking your hand in his (his grasp is so gentle that you could easily take your hand back if you wanted and he wouldn't stop you). He bends forward, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. He straightens his spine and watches you fondly. "Until we meet again."

As he lets go of your hand, he bows his head once more before he walks away. You and Hecton watch him leave. He raises his own brow at you. "Is that blush I see?"

Your hands are quick and exaggerated as you move them. You know he's joking and you're not blushing, but his teasing makes you. /No!/

Hecton's smile is wide and open and you know he's laughing at you, so you call him out for being mean. He drops it just as quickly, once the joke has faded to a funny memory and you both are back to mingling with people who do not care about you.

~

The halls are empty this late in the night. Everyone has retired to their rooms or taken an early train home. It's peaceful, wandering the halls this late and being undisturbed by curious eyes and ears watching you like some wild animal. You enjoy the silence—the physical silence of steady air and only one set of footsteps to track instead of hundreds.

At the end of the hall you wander now is the elevator that takes you to your level. Hecton will be wondering where you are—and if not, it's probably time for you to retire for the night before the victor's interviews with Lucky tomorrow anyway. As you make your way toward it, the lights bright and beckoning, you stop in front of it and click the door button.

It's as the doors are sliding open that you realize you're no longer alone in the dead of this night. You feel it in the prickle of your skin, the change in the weight of the floor beneath you. You look over quickly where the side of your face heats with a new presence.

You see Finnick approaching you, seemingly pleased to see you as he smiles at you, stopping short of the doors to offer you first entry. You grin hesitantly, your confidence from before waning a little with the absence of your mentor and translator. If he tries to talk to you, you're probably going to have a rough night. You press the tenth floor button. He presses the fourth.

Finnick isn't as pessimistic, glancing at you out of the corner of your eyes as you stand with your fingers tangled and your eyes toward the ground. You don't look nearly as cocky this time around—in fact, you seem nervous, refusing to even give him that small, awkward smile you usually receive when stuck in a space next to someone you don't know.

Finnick licks his lips, and speaks before he can correct himself. "Hello," he says, giving you a charming smile before immediately remembering your certain disability.

His curiosity grows when you raise your head, glancing his way but not quite committing.

"Oh, right," he mumbles. His added words spark your attention once more as you finally look at him, moving your hand in a talking motion.

"Yeah," he responds. "How did you know?" You're deaf, but you could tell that he was speaking without even looking at him?

He watches you think for a moment, staring off to try and figure out a way to tell him without Hecton to aid you. You look at him again, raising a hand palm down and shaking it.

"Shaking?" he guesses, raising a confused brow.

You gestured around the elevator, your face etched in concentration, determined to be understood. You sometimes forget how hard communication can actually be for you.

"The room?" he tries. "The room is shaking?"

You make a face, one that says "not quite".

He thinks for a moment, putting your gestures together before it dawns on him. "The air is moving."

You smile, far too happy to have successfully gotten a point across.

Finnick's brows raise, though not in a mocking or upset way. "Is everything really that sensitive for you?"

'It has to be,' you want to say, but you can't. You can read lips, but moving your own to try and copy them is a completely different story. Instead, you just nod and agree.

"I heard that's how you won the Games," he said, before adding on the end with a genuinely impressed smile. "Very cool, by the way." He had spent an embarrassing amount of time—or it would be embarrassing if he actually cared about that—asking party comers about you. Most of the information he got was about the Games, always about the Games. He got the same answers from just about everyone about how you were just so sweet and how it was so inspiring how your lack of hearing helped you to win.

As much as that sweet grin on your face made you want to smile, he wasn't technically right. So you shook your head, and he watched you raise your hands to cover your eyes.

"You were blind?" he wonders, but that doesn't make any sense and he doesn't feel very smart for asking now.

You shake your head and do it again, this time pulling your hands away and then covering your face again.

"You hid," he answers. That makes more sense.

You nod and he hums.

You didn't win the Hunger Games by killing for being killed, you didn't win by joining alliances or traveling in groups and pairs. You won the Games by running and hiding until everyone had killed each other.

When the Gamemakers used their tricks and schemes to flush you out of your hiding places, you found another one to lay low until the end. Yes, there were times when you had to fight for your life, but you were no strong competitor. It was dumb luck that you won. Right up to the end, facing off with the almost-champion after having been hunted down by Mutts. He killed them, and then he tried to kill you.

And that was when your disability was labeled your greatest weapon.

Maybe one day you'll be able to tell him that.

The doors slid open to reveal Finnick's floor. You both linger there in the elevator for a moment, trying to decide what to do from there.

Truly, you should have just waved at him and let the doors close to take you to your own floor. It was late already, you needed to rest.

But…

"Do you like sweets?"

Yes, you do.

You nod, answering his charming smile with a shy one and being upset with yourself in the back of your mind for falling for his obvious charm. If you got hurt, it was on you and no one else. But who cares?

You, you care. Maybe not enough, though.

You follow him off the elevator and into the common room. The kitchen is just off of it, with a long table cleared of dinner but still adorned with snacks—fruits and a few deserts. Finnick slides over a plate of cookies as you take a seat. They're chocolate and very good.

He sits across from you, a little too keen in the way he leans forward. He picks up a cookie between his thumb and forefinger, playing with it absent-mindedly as he speaks.

"Is that," he waves one hand, "usually how you communicate?" He hopes he doesn't sound offensive and takes a bite from his cookie.

You don't seem offended as you shrug. He watches you move your hand like you're grasping a pen, shifting it around in a circle. He understands and, like a dog, goes to grab the supplies for you, dropping his cookie back on the table with little to no regard. He's not necessarily upset about his obedience, if anything, he's happy to let you boss him around—not that you have been—if it means quenching his genuine curiosity with how you operate.

He slides you a notebook as he reclaims his seat, gently slapping a pen on top with a cheeky grin. He seems proud of himself. You hold in your chuckle as you write with the best handwriting you can with the quickness of your scribbles.

/Signing or writing./

Finnick reads it off. He thinks your handwriting is pretty.

"Does it get tiring?" he asks, cookie forgotten in crumbs on the counter. He absent-mindedly pushes it to the side so he can lean closer. "Moving your hands like that all the time?"

His question is one you get often, a repeated question every person asks to suit their shallow interest in you. But you can't bring yourself to be offended or annoyed. Finnick doesn't seem shallow, his curiosity runs deep and his kindness deeper. You're not sure you could take anything he says with offense.

You simply shake your head. /Easy as it is for you to talk,/ you answer honestly, adding the gesture for "speak" at the end to try to be helpful.

He shouldn't be impressed, but he is. "Oh," he says, brows raised in vivid interest. "Is it easy to learn?"

He's full of questions. He knows he probably sounds like a child, piling them on top of each other like tidal waves. But you don't seem upset, so he carries on.

You shrug again.

/Would not know. Depends on person./ You look up at him, and then you add, /You want to learn?/

The way you write is interesting to him. You don't do it in full sentences in an effort to keep it short and simple. But you also don't use contractions, though you try to write as quickly as possible to keep up the feel and consistency of actually speaking.

He smiles slyly and pretends to be shy about it, bowing his head and looking up at you through pretty lashes. "Maybe," he says. "Could you teach me?"

You mirror his expression, bowing your chin toward your chest and smiling at him. /Maybe./

You finish your cookie and rip off the first page to turn to another. He watches you write out the alphabet, quickly scribbling a very poor illustration of a hand gesture underneath each one. It takes a while, longer than you wished for it to.

Finnick doesn't mind. While you're distracted with the activity at hand, he's watching you. You're very pretty, he thinks. With the way you sit to draw, you keep your body open and give yourself the room you need to still see him as you work.

You've got kind eyes. He doesn't think you get that enough. Everyone calls you a sweet girl, but they usually follow it up with something along the lines of "even with her issue".

But Finnick just thinks you're pretty and kind. That's it. No exceptions.

He wants to learn about you without the tainting of word-of-mouth or television programs. He wants to know you. The stuff you love, the stuff you hate, everything that makes you happy, and the stuff that makes you want to throw chairs. He wants to know what your favorite color is, if you like to dance or paint or swim.

Before he can keep daydreaming about whether you like cats or dogs, you look up at him to show off your work. You think it's sloppy. He thinks you did great.

You start going through it with him, showing him the hand signs as you get to them with a patience that amazes him. Once you've gone through the whole of it once, he lifts his own hand to try it out. He looks weird and silly, and you smile as he tries his best.

When he offers a poor attempt at a 'Q', a giggle manages to slip. You probably don't hear it, but Finnick certainly does. His face lights up at the sound. He had heard you make little more than a sigh. Managing to pull a giggle out of you—especially one as pretty as that? It's like winning the lottery.

He goes through it with you a couple more times before he straightens his spine. "So…"

He points to his chest and holds his hand out, slowly moving it to fit the gestures he's tried.

F. I. N. N. I. C. K.

You nod quickly, beaming from ear to ear at how quickly he's picked it up already. You point to yourself and spell your own name out. You move slowly, giving him time to connect each letter to each sign as you go. And when you finish, he spells it himself. A nearly perfect copy, (although perfect may be generous, he's definitely trying and it shows—that's perfect enough in your book).

You carefully tear the page out and set it to the side so he can still see and write excitedly on the next page, your writing almost terrible with how quickly you scribble. /Natural!/

You sign the word after. He copies you, and then tries to spell it out. He gets it right for the most part—even though you're pretty sure you saw him use an 'X' instead of an 'R'.

He really wants to impress you. He doesn't make that subtle, and you're honestly happy he doesn't. It makes you genuinely giddy, the way he's so eager to learn and show off his new skill (a skill he's literally been practicing for no more than ten minutes). You don't realize how far onto the table you've learned. Your hands would brush if you moved them an inch closer.

"I'll keep at it," he replies genuinely at your proud smile. He had no idea someone so silent could be so pleasantly loud. Your ecstatic movements and wide grins compensate for your lack of vocalization. When you speak through your hands or the notebook in front of you, he almost swears he can hear a voice he hasn't heard in place of it, so kind and pretty. Like a song.

You smile too fondly at him, taking in a soft breath before looking down at your hands and sitting back again. You'd gotten ahead of yourself. You don't correct it as much as you should. You're just as fond as you sit correctly in your seat and watch him with intense interest.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you pick up your pen again. He watches you write something down. You turn the book around for him to see.

/Mentor cannot speak?/

"Mags?" he wonders. You nod, tilting your head. "No."

You write again. /Cannot sign?/

"No."

You tilt your head and furrow your brows, a silent inquiry. He shrugs, "Never learned."

You contemplate for a moment, rubbing your neck gently before taking the notepad once more. You show it to him.

/Can teach./ You point to yourself, offering a small grin.

"Really?" he furrows his brow.

You shrug. Why not?

Finnick stares at you a moment, searching your eyes for a joke he knows he won't find. So why would you be so open to helping her? Maybe you're just weird.

His lips curl in a smile. "I'll ask her."

Your own smile grows.

He drums his fingers on the table, watching you watching him. He thinks for a moment, just staring, before he opens his mouth.

"So obviously, you can read lips." You nod. "Were you born deaf?"

You nod and reach for the notepad once again. It takes you a moment to write this time. /Parents did not find out til 2. Was a quiet kid. Did not realize until I never started speaking./

He's so interested in everything you tell him. He hangs onto your every word like pure gold. "So you've never heard anything before? Ever?"

He feels like it's a dumb question. Of course not. But you hesitate, glancing off before you nod.

/Yes./

His eyes go wide with wonder. "How?" He crosses his arms and leans forward on the table.

You thought for another moment, trying to find the best way to phrase it to keep it simple. You tap the pen against your lips and click click click it.

/Before the 67th Games, my team gifted me hearing aids. Thought it would help./ You pull away for him to read, staring at the page before taking it and adding in a new line, /Didn't think I'd make it deaf./

The look on your face told him how much that bothered you—or, at least, a whisper of how much it used to bother you. He thinks you may be used to it by now…

"Seemed to work, huh?" he asks with a slight chuckle in an attempt to brighten your mood again.

But you shake your head as you pull the notepad back. /When Games started, too much. Ripped them out and ran./ You sigh gently, swallowing thickly. /Couldn't handle it./

He listens in, his full attention heeding your words. "So you never wear them?"

You shake your head. /Do not like to./

He nods gently. "Because it hurt?" he asks, trying to understand.

You think for a moment before raising your hand and shaking it like before, meaning a different thing this time. /Kind of,/ you write.

You sigh and raise your hands, loosely clawed in front of you as you bring them into your chest in fists. Then you pick up your pen to translate. /Trust me?/

He nods. "Yeah."

/Sure?/

His second nod is more firm. "Yes."

He watches you grab a hand towel. You lift it up, gesturing to him with it and he nods his approval once again. You step behind him and tie it around his head to cover his eyes.

After you blindfold him, sure that he no longer has sight, you turn off all the lights and spin him around a couple times before you lead him into the living room.

Without his sight, Finnick is reduced to having to let you lead him where you want him. And he trusts you. He sways on his feet for a moment, standing still when you stop guiding him again.

"Can I look now?" he asks, his hands out by his side blindly if not for anything but balance.

He hears your voice, the slight sound of you clearing your throat before humming gently, like you're feeling for it. Then he hears your broken response, unaccustomed to actually speaking.

"N-o," you mumble. He smiles a little, and you think he's weird—in a good way.

After a moment of silence where the both of you just stand there and do nothing, he feels you begin to remove the towel from his face. You don't give him a chance to adjust to the dark, you just flip the closest light on and let him have it.

He winces, shielding his face as the shock sets in. You smile gently as you apologize, rubbing your fist over your chest in a circle. When his eyes adjust to the light once more to look at you, your smile is still a fond apology as you motion to your ears.

He breathes lightly. “That’s what it felt like for you?” You make a “bigger” motion with your hands as you nod. “That’s awful,” he mumbles.

You shrug as you begin to walk back to the dining table to grab your pen and notepad again. As you take a seat on the sofa, you bring your legs up under you and invite him to sit beside you. He watches you write something as you prop the notepad against your thighs. You show it to him when you finish.

/What do you like to do?/

He is happy to answer as he settles back and thinks for a moment before offering his reply. You sit and talk back and forth for a long time. You don’t really keep track as you learn that Finnick loves to swim and he dabbles in cooking when he can. You learn that he likes the color blue, but his favorite color is probably white. You learn that he is a “live life like it’s your last day” type of person because of his experience with the games (a philosophy you have adopted yourself in a smaller intensity). You learn that he’s more fond of the quiet than the rowdy crowds he’s grown accustomed to.

Finnick learns that you also like the water, but you enjoy sitting under the surface and feeling like the world is just as silent as you in a way that isn’t so interesting to the rest of the world. He learns that you don’t have a favorite color but you always say green, that you’re not a people person but everyone thinks you’re a person who loves people, and that you like to watch Hecton play the guitar while he lets you set your hand on the body of it to feel what he plays.

You don’t know when you fall asleep on the couch, laying against the back of it with your head turned toward the large, cushy pillow that supports your head. You’re curled up against it, and Finnick thinks you look precious. He’s not long after you as he dozes off on the couch. Neither of you touch at all, hands to yourself as you let the night ease on around you. But the presence is comfortable enough, you’re happy for it.

But sometime in the night, you don’t know when, how long the passage of time had gotten to be, the calm that had set over you slowly began to fade and slip into something a little more unnerving. Uneasiness sets in your bones, makes you queasy as your fingers twitch. You hum, a groan that slips from between your lips and rouses Finnick as he opens his eyes and glances your way, eyes still heavy with sleep.

He starts to sit up as he sees you shift, your breath quickened and your muscles twitching. He calls your name gently, a first instinct he immediately realizes isn’t going to work. He hears you hum again and begins to reach a hand out. His fingers hardly brush the skin of your arm when your eyes suddenly open. You’re muttering something intelligible to yourself as you glance around frantically, eyes glazed over and movements full of adrenaline.

“Woah, you’re good,” he tries as you grip the cushions on the couch. It’s too warm and it’s cushy and you don’t want to be up there anymore. He’s still trying to ease you, hands out like you’re a frightened animal ready to attack him. You slide off the couch and onto the floor, where the cold hardwood greets your skin as you catch your breath, your face tucked between your arms as your whole body heaves for air.

He lets you stay there, concern written all over his face as he tries to figure out what the issue is. He guesses they’re just nightmares, bad, ugly nightmares that he, himself, has faced over and over and over again. He waits and waits and waits for your body to steady and for your breath to calm, keeping his hands out but away as he waits for you to recover.

When you’ve calmed down again, you lift your head and sit back against the floor, turning toward him with lethargic muscles, your adrenaline already waning as the exhaustion from before trumps everything else. You catch the movement of Finnick’s lips from out of the corner of your eye and turn to see him speak. “What’s wrong?”

You breathe in slowly, filling your whole chest as you gather yourself enough to answer. You stroke a circle over your chest with your fist, a movement he remembers seeing you do earlier when you were apologizing to him. He shakes his head gently, slowly shifting off of the couch to join you on the floor, giving you space as he props his elbow on the cushion.

“S’okay,” he says, his lips moving gently around the word. “What happened?”

You breathe out slowly, still centering yourself. You lean toward the table, sliding the notepad over with lazy movements. You contemplate before writing. /Vibrations./ You show it to him and he tilts his head. /I sleep with my hand on the floor. It lets me know if someone is coming, I can feel the footsteps in the ground. It wakes me up and keeps me out of trouble./

The way you write is different now, filling the missing blanks of words you’d usually leave out because they were unnecessary. Like you’re too tired to summarize, letting the words do their job as you slump against the table like you haven’t slept in ages and are simply going through the motions.

He moves slowly, letting you see what’s happening before it happens as he sets his hand atop your own on the table. You don’t move, glancing at his hand and letting it happen as his skin brushes yours. He feels honored.

“Well,” he says, “you’re safe here.” With me.

You manage to pull the corners of your lips up into a small smile, turning your hand so his rests in your palm. You raise your free hand to your chin. /Thank you./ You take a moment to sit there, looking at each other and enjoying the feelings of your hand in the other’s. Then you pull your hand away regretfully and pick up your pen.

/I should get back to my floor before my people worry./

He reads it off and nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs, already moving to stand to his feet as he holds his hand out to help you, hoping you would accept. When you do, he smiles. You lift yourself to your feet and give him another of your best in this condition.

You pick up the notepad one more time. /Thank you for the sweets. And for the company. I liked talking with you./

He puts a hand to his heart, too heartfelt to be teasing as he dips his head slightly. “My pleasure.”

Finnick walks with you to the elevator, standing by you in silence after the button is pressed as you both wait for the doors to slide open. When they do, you step in and offer yet another warm smile as you sigh and wave, mouthing the word “bye” as you depart from him, sad to go. He mouths the word back to you, though you’re not positive he spoke them as he offers a small wave of his own.

The doors shut and Finnick misses you already.

~

The blaring lights, (otherwise) deafening crowds, and extravagant costumes are something you get used to and never get used to all at once. All the attention is on you, and it's your job to make sure they are entertained as you make your way onto the stage with Hecton's at your side.

Lucky is standing, that unnervingly large grin tearing his face in two as he watches you excitedly. His hand is extended toward you, both to show you off and welcome you in.

"Hello, my dear!" he exclaims theatrically as he takes your hand. He places a kiss to your knuckles and then shakes Hecton's hand as well. You all take your seats, your smile the picture of thrilled.

"It's been a while since we have last spoken, hasn't it?" He stops dramatically and then says, "Well, a while since I spoke to you, at least." The air is on the fritz with cheers and laughter and more clapping as you look around at everyone. Lucky's laughter is just as wide. "How have you been, Y/N?"

You look at Hecton, your smile and his set in perfection. He speaks as you sign, beginning his role as your ultimate translator. "I've been great, Lucky. I've missed you!"

His big brows furrow as he slaps a hand over his heart. He turns to the adoring fans. "Oh, isn't that sweet?" He laughs again and looks back at you, his expression calmer but no less dramatic. "I have also missed you, my dear. Now, tell me, this is a tour for some of our previous victors, have you met any of them yet?" He leans in like you're sharing a secret.

"I'm glad you asked, I have. It's been great getting to be reacquainted with old friends and making new ones."

"Ooo," he says, looking around and encouraging the crowd to join in. "New ones like who?" He sits up straight and brings a finger to his lips, glancing away and smiling slyly. "I know I have it from a reliable source that you were mingling with District 4 Champion, Finnick Odair." He leans forward with narrowed eyes. "Do I sense something blossoming?"

He and the crowd tease you, making lovey dovey noises that you don't hear but definitely feel as you glance at Hecton and he raises his thick brows in amusement.

"Oh, Lucky," you smile like you'll laugh as Hecton continues to read your hands. "I wish I could agree, but who am I to say?" You shrug it off with a sigh.

"Oh, really?" he jabs. "Because when I brought it up with Finnick, I believe he described you as 'a special kind of beauty'." This riles the crowd up even more, they cheer louder and the air feels suffocating. You smile through it.

"Did he now?"

"He did."

Lucky laughs dramatically, Hecton laughs less dramatically, and the crowd eats right out of the palm of your hands.

"Well," Hecton says as you catch the attention again, "you know I'm not one to gossip."

"Ohh, not just this once?" He says it like he'll cry.

"I wish I could."

He sighs heavily. "Oh, well." The crowds 'aww's and you give an apologetic smile to them all. Lucky leans over and takes your hand in his, which you then cover with your own. "It has been lovely catching up with you, my dear. And you, too, Hecton, my friend." Hecton nods. "I hope to see you again soon, both of you—I do so love our talks!"

"As do I, Lucky. As do I."

He puts both hands over his chest this time, smiling with sadness to see you go. "Would you give us a kiss before you go?"

You stand to face the crowd and kiss your hand, blowing it out to them as they scream and shout for you. You beam and look at them all, waving happily.

"Oh, fantastic!" Lucky exclaims as he stands to join your side, Hecton at the other. He takes one of your hands again. "It is always a pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine."

He turns to the adoring audience. "Our Silent Spectacle, everybody!"

They scream and shout and you press your cheeks to Lucky's before you and Hecton leave the stage. Even after you're past the curtain where they can no longer see you, you keep the smile as wide as you can until it trembles out of place.

/Very well done, Y/N,/ Hecton congratulates.

You huff out a tiring breath, massaging your cheeks before regaining your posture and masking your frown with a much softer smile as you respond. /It's exhausting./

He offers a sympathetic look. /Maybe so, but they love it./ He glances at you again, noticing the fatigue in your eyes and your twitching lips, the nerves kicking from overuse. He sighs, taking your hand and turning you to him.

/You've got to keep them happy./

You look at him, how his words reflected a deeper worry, a double meaning that surpasses the gratification of your adoring crowds. Your eyes glue to his own, solemn, sober—a fair contrast from the faces surrounding you, drunk on the sap of their own self-importance.

/I know,/ you nod.

The tense moment is interrupted as a new player enters the arena. Hecton is the one to turn first, redirecting your attention toward the person approaching you. You immediately smile, an instinct by this point as you turn your gaze on your next audience. It only takes a moment for you to recognize the person, and your smile comes a little easier.

Seeing the situation before he approaches, Finnick wonders whether or not it would be appropriate to interrupt. But when your mentor turns and you turn with him, and you smile a more genuine smile upon seeing him, he finds that he doesn't really care if it's appropriate right now.

"You're quite the personality," he says as he steps up, smiling himself as he tilts his head.

"They love quiet, happy girls," Hecton translates as you sign. Finnick really doesn't think his voice suits you, coarse and thick with an accent hard to find.

"That, they do," he nods. He licks his bottom lip, "So you'll be headed back off today?"

You turn toward Hecton, your jaw clenching briefly before you turn back. "Soon. I've got some business tonight and then we'll be off tomorrow."

"Business?" he raises a curious brow, taking a small step forward as his lips quirked. "What kind of business?"

You tilt your chin, a nervous kind of smile on your lips as you move a hooked finger from your nose to your cupped hand. "Nosey," you tease, though Hecton speaks it flatly.

"Oh, it's a secret?" he wonders, even more curious now. He doesn't speak like a creep as he continues, holding that same teasing feeling while also offering his genuine curiosity. "I have a thing for secrets, y'know. I can keep it safe for you…"

You do it again, with a little more delight this time. Again, Hecton's translation holds no ounce of the delight you give off as you talk to Finnick. "Nosey," he repeats, this time with a little more sternness to get him to stop asking. You give him a side glance, but he isn't affected.

Before you can communicate anything else, Hecton's sets his hand on your lower back. It isn't patronizing, he's just used to guiding you, your protector.

"Come now, Y/N," he says. "It's time we were off."

You sigh gently but nod, still smiling as you glanced up at him. You begin to wave to Finnick, but he speaks as you're waving your hand.

"Am I free to visit down in District 10?" he asks, his tone light and playful to avoid sounding as hopeful as he feels. He's just met you, and he wants to know you.

You nod quickly, too eager. You move two fingers over your fist, missing the way Hecton doesn't translate. But Finnick can figure that one out himself.

His chest floods with relief. "I'll keep it in mind."

You wave. /Goodbye, Finnick./ The way you sign his name is different. Where he is expecting to see the familiar letters you showed him last night, he finds a wave of your hands and a fond smile.

He winks at you. "Goodbye, sweetcheeks."

You scrunch your nose, circling your hand over your belly. /Gross./

Hecton is already walking you away as Finnick blows you a cheesy kiss, mirroring the one you'd done for the audience earlier. You wave him off, smiling and shaking your head as you go.

When you're far enough from him, walking away from backstage to wherever you were headed now, Hecton's intense brows are furrowed in what you can only assume is annoyance at his distrust in Finnick.

/You seemed familiar./

/Stop./

Music to My Eyes taglist: ... This is a temporary taglist for those who want to be tagged in the sequel to Music to My Eyes, Finnick Odair x Reader. Please keep in mind that once the second part is posted, the tag will disappear. Feel free to DM, comment, or send me an ask to be added, if you would like. Or simply add yourself here...

[utilitycaster]

what are those 5 things? 👀

Seeing people start admit that maybe Imogen and Laudna did in fact pressure Fearne excessively hard to take the shard. I think it's good Fearne took it in the end, but yeah they really made it difficult for her to express her doubts and that was shitty of them. I got extensive hate for saying that at the time from people who are literally saying the same thing now. It's very funny.

The (entirely valid) complaints I've seen that people care more about imo/dna as a ship than Laudna as a character and are making her book solely about the fact that Imogen will show up in it. I pointed out this exact same problem occurring while Laudna was dead, almost two years ago.

Caleb considering leaving the Nein means they aren't really bonded. Imogen considering leaving Bells Hells means she's so perfect and caring and selfless and noble and good. Anyway yeah sure I definitely believe that if Imogen were a man played by Liam everyone would definitely be totally uncritical and love everything she did. (This is also a layered one, given how Twitter has been bashing Orym nonstop for over a year).

I know it's been a month and I've said this repeatedly so this is a bit tacky but I'm still riding the absolute Irony High of people being like "STOP TALKING ABOUT HUBRIS STOP TALKING ABOUT HUBRIS anyway of COURSE Bells Hells would NEVER see the gods as a messed up family, just like them" and then jump cut to Laudna literally saying that. It's just genuinely so funny that people mad at everyone calling Aeor full of hubris proceeded to get their wax wings straight up vaporized at the top of episode 102.

People calling imo/dna the bestest most organic most slow-burn sapphic ship ever (it's not even the longest slow-burn f/f ship on Critical Role; even if you're stupid enough to count the two years we know virtually nothing about just for the purposes of padding out the time to eliminate Beauyasha on a technicality - nevermind that slowburn is about the length of the story itself and not the length of time the characters have known each other, since it's obvious that if someone said 'here's Jane and Kate, they've known each other for 300 years, now they are kissing' this would not be a satisfying slowburn unless like, you went back and filled in the 300 years - Kimallura STILL wins) but as someone who received a decent amount of harassment for saying it wasn't very interesting and as such kept tabs on the people engaging in that harassment...they've been dropping like flies. If it's the best sapphic ship ever and it's canon and you're in the top 5 ships for the show of all time on ao3 and Delilah's gone and they're going to get their cottage, funny how a good chunk of the shippers haven't even managed to stay interested in CR. Also why are half the people who HAVE kept up like hmmmm what if I threw Fearne or Ashton in there. Like believe me, I support a poly hells situation, but uh. quite a tumble for what people used to call the Beating Heart Of The Campaign (TM).

Bonus! This is below a cut because it has spoilers for next week's Re-Slayer's Take that's only out for Beacon subscribers but

we see Devexian, and he meets Frog (an aeormaton PC) and his overall statement on Aeor is "it created us to serve, and we fought for our autonomy. It was both a beautiful and terrible place. Anyway the past is past, what's important is that we as aeormatons take our chance to live now, and my personal goal is not just to bring back as many aeormatons as I can, but learn how to make more aeormatons." He is completely uninterested, at least in 839 PD, in any sort of action against the gods. Like, I think he regrets the fall of Aeor because a lot of Aeormatons and knowledge died in it but he literally is like "your life is defined by your own choices, not your designation at the time of Aeor." The actual survivors of the fall of Aeor are like anyway, we want acceptance, autonomy, and the means to control our own production in modern day Exandria. Ludinus whomst.

[bones4thecats]

Their S/O Is One of Blitzø's Many Exes

Characters: Verosika Mayday, Striker, and Fizzarolli Inspired By: Apology Tour and the Anti-Blitzø Party A/N: This was so much fun to write for these three. Just imagining them with one of Blitzø's exes is hilarious in my opinion. Anyways, hope you Helluva Boss enjoyers love this! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Season 1, Episode 3 - Season 1, Episode 5 - Season 1, Episode 7 - Season 2, Episode 9 / Swearing, mentions of cheating, being abandoned, toxic relationships, and assassin stuff ⚠️

Disclaimer: Fizz! S/O Song; 10 Things I Hate About You - Leah Kate

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Verosika Mayday ═════════════════════════╝

🎤 Verosika hated your shared ex with a burning passion. She got vulnerable for one of the rare times in her life and he just got up and ditched her in a painful way

🎤 You were left in a similar way. You and Blitzø had dated for nearly a year when, on your anniversary, you had told him you loved him. He froze, didn't even apologize, and left. You were left there alone with the bill and with a broken heart

🎤 Verosika and you eventually met at one of her Anti-Blitzø Parties. You attended because it just sounded like something you could have at least some fun at since he dumped you, and seeing how many others he left in his shadow, you felt horrible for them all

🎤 But your disdain for the imp grew on

🎤 As a fairly cool-headed individual, you were hired by Verosika early on in your friendship to be a traveling Album Cover Designer, Backup Singer, and Sound Technician. Your hands were full, but thankfully you were born and raised in the Greed Ring, so you knew how much work you could and could not handle

🎤 It took a while for you and the pop-star to bond like anything other than friends, but when you did begin your relationship, it was amazing. You two adored one another with a passion. And since you had almost the same experience with your ex, you knew how to talk to one another about it

🎤 When you guys came across Blitzø again, she smirked when he tried calling your name after Verosika walked off. You just looked back at him over your shoulder and rolled your eyes, but when he tried saying he was sorry, you snapped

"What the fuck are you on about?"

"We were fine! I was just having a rough night! I didn't mean to hurt you like that!"

"But you did! That's the fucking thing! You never actually think about your actions!" You screamed, pupils shrinking as you slowly became more and more like a large spider. "Honestly, Blitzo, grab some fucking maturity! If you can afford to pay them," you pointed at the rest of I.M.P., "then you can that!"

"Y/N, dear."

🎤 Calming down when you felt Verosika's hand in your top right one, you just blinked blankly at the group, who were all in shock at your outburst and scoffed, walking away. Leaving the imp and your past behind you for your new one

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Striker ════════════════════════════════╝

🗡️ After you and Blitzø's fall out, you had moved away from the Pride Ring and back to your home in the Wrath Ring. Your father was happy to see his child come back, but your mother was curious on what went wrong with you and your boyfriend

🗡️ Your father would've went up to the Pride Ring and killed the imp himself if it wasn't for your two older brothers holding him back from it. They sighed and calmed your dad down before helping you move back into your room

"Hey, Y/N. Isn't that- uh, Blitz guy an assassin?"

"Wannabe assassin." You corrected.

"Yeah! You come from a family of assassins. Why don't you spite him back by beating him to every punch?"

🗡️ So you did. You had taken one of his old journals, which held many of his few client's requests. Thankfully, you had an Asmodean-Crystal from a past client you killed for, so getting to the human world would be a piece of cake

🗡️ It was when you were traveling to another ring for a new hellborn-client that you met Striker. And you were happy you did. Despite knowing it was difficult to be in a relationship as an assassin, at least working as one, you and Striker did start your own shared life after around three years of knowing one another

🗡️ Striker had informed you of his plan to kill Stolas Goetia at the Harvest Moon Festival. Your family had planned on going there for a couple missions themselves, and while they finished up, you stayed with your boyfriend to finish his job

🗡️ Your ex was shocked to see you standing alongside the hybrid-imp. And honestly it kinda hurt him a little bit. He didn't have any feelings towards you anymore. He has the many after you to prove that, but it hurt seeing you working alongside another to kill him

"After everything I did for you? This is how you repay me, you bitch!"

"Why you-"

"Blitzo," You said emphasizing the o at the end of his name, "I believed that you did everything you wanted for me back then. But when I look back on us, I don't see shit coming out of you. Besides, I have met your ex before me. You only fucked me because I appealed to your demographic; desperate and easy to fuck-over."

"What the fuck are you on about?! I never thought that about you!"

"Then why did you leave me on my motherfucking birthday, jack-off!"

🗡️ Striker smirked as his opponent lightly shifted in thought, you merely scoffed and pulled out your own angelic weapon, that being a spear, and readied it for battle

"Let's just get this shit-show over with. Me and my boyfriend have a owlish-prince to end."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Fizzarolli ══════════════════════════════╝

🪷 Fizzarolli has a complicated relationship with your ex. He believes that he left him in the dust, leaving him alone to be in so much mental and physical pain just because he was jealous. And you just felt like a sack of naive shit when he abandoned you

🪷 You met him just a few days after your breakup. He wasn't surprised that you were one of Blitzø's exes. He's had many, and Fizzarolli was pretty sure it was up in the 50s at that point

🪷 He asked you why he broke up with you, as you were quite the looker, being from the Lust Ring and all. You just shrugged and laughed lightly before getting upset and throwing an empty liquor bottle at the nearest demon, causing him to pass out

"Who fucking know? Probably got so damn terrified of the feelings I confessed. Pussy."

"I'll agree with you on the third swear." He laughed out, making you smile.

"I'm Y/N L/N, professional animal tamer for the Mammon Circus. You?"

"Fizzarolli! Entertainer extraordinaire!"

🪷 You both bonded a lot more than you initially thought. Fizzarolli was quite the funny-guy, it made sense why he was an clown, his jokes were just top-shelf!

🪷 Fizz eventually introduced you to Asmodeus when Mammon was being a dick and fired you for someone else's mistake. You were happy when the Lust Ring's ruler accepted you onto his team, specifically to help out with any animals coming into the mix

🪷 After a while of getting closer, you were surprised when Blitzø came out of nowhere and was on a seeming date with Prince Stolas of the Goetia Royal Family

🪷 Your boyfriend saw you next to the stage and pulled you up into his number, allowing you to add your own turn into the scene so you could get your side of the story out

"I caught you cheating. You had the nerve to say you're sleeping. Just not with her, but tell your friends. That I'll be lost without you." You sang, looking at the imp's shocked face. "And I'll admit it, sometimes I miss when we were in it. So I made a list so I never forget all the things I hate about you. Ten, you're selfish, nine, you're jaded, eight, the dumbest guy I dated, seven, talk a big game 'til you're naked, only six seconds, and I had to fake it. Five, you're toxic, four, can't trust you, three, you still got daddy issues, two years of your bullshit I can't undo, one, I hate the fact that you made me love you."

🪷 As you sang, Fizzarolli admired you. His eyes tracing your form as you danced around the imp, using your abilities as a way to show everything he did to you. From his embarrassing intellect to the many problems you faced in your relationship

🪷 It was nice to dance around freely, especially when you handed the song over to Verosika, whom you grown close to over time of going to her Anti-Blitzø Parties. When you finished, you went over to Fizz and allowed him to pick you up and dance with you as he and Asmodeus finished of the song

🪷 When Blitzø and Stolas left with their imp friends, you looked back at Fizzarolli, smiling before walking away with him while Asmodeus handled some other things. You two eventually made it to his dressing room and kissed, separating only for air and to look in one another's eyes calmly

"You did amazing, cupcake."

"So didn't you, smiles."

[wolfythewitch]

I love your Ulysses animations so so much. I think I watched the "I know you're a goddess" and the "This is my goodbye" one on a loop probably thirty times each since yesterday. The facial expressions are so good.

Goddess:

The way his shoulders tilt the opposite way!! The hands/arms movements in general! This is my goodbye:

the mean smile when he says "this way you won't plague my life" when five seconds ago he called her his friend and now he says he chooses to cut her out (because she threatened to do it first) and he keeps looking so sad all throughout even when he's mad and defiant and you can just feel that they care about each other (or that he cares about her. God feelings are harder to grasp) and are mad with the other I just love it so much and I feel so sad? They feel like they're taking cheap shots at each other just to hurt but they're only able to (or only need to) because they just care so much and I am so there for getting my heart ripped out like that. So, yeah, I love that smile.

the shot where she's behind him and bends to talk to his ear!!!!!!!!! I just - it's so pretty! Not in a… I dunno. Pretty might not be the right word. Powerful? I just absolutely love it. It talks straight to my hindbrain.

also Athena's design. The not-quite-humanness of her face (her eyes! (how much room they have to narrow to slits when she's pissed!) her mouth! the line economy, contrasted by Ulysses' scruffiness). Her sheer height. The way she tilts her face arrrgh I can't I just love it so much.

the way they just spent three full minutes screaming at each other but he still looks gutted when she leaves.

(for context, this is the first I hear about the musical it's from, I just, like, read the Iliad and/or the Odyssey long enough ago that I forgot most of it and have passing familiarity with the overall plot and a few select scenes but not much more)

AHHH THANK YOU SGDJDHD

Wait actually I wanna talk about some frames agah

So with these frames specifically. On the first one, I wanted him to look like he's searching her expression for any shred of remorse or regret or anything to hint that maybe she cares. Then he turns away, bitter, when he finds none.

And ahhhh this frame

This was the frame that got me to make the animatic. I really wanted to draw this out so that's why I started the whole thing haha. I wanted two things out of it: 1. Power imbalance. Their relationship is always gonna pretty unbalanced in terms of authority and power alone. She's a Goddess and he's a man, it's clear who's got the upper hand. 2. I wanted it to look like she was speaking directly into his ear. To show it as a cold, calculated action, and also to have it be emblematic of when advisors or generals whisper strategies to the king. She might have once done the same action to guide him, but now she's doing it to tell him she's done.

And OUGH this frame

So you've probably already caught Telemachus, Penelope, Polites, and Astyanax in the frame. But also. Also. Since this appears in the line "you're just a man", it's like. It's not quite the ghosts of the dead, since Penelope and Telemachus are there. It's more an embodiment of his loss, his weaknesses, really. What he's already lost and what he still stands to lose. He's just a man because he cares and he loves and he yearns. It's his ruin as much as it's his reason to keep fighting, at least in her eyes.

[cappuccino-bear]

Warrior Cats moment

I decided that screw it I am posting Warriors on main now and the other blog is just the archive for it.

I am gonna try to make it a whole rewrite au thing buuut we'll see how it goes! Currently calling it the CappuccinoRewrite but we'll see.

Design notes:

-Going with my own naming system which changes a few things, sparknotes is that apprentices get any suffix related to body parts or patterns (-fur, -tail, -throat, -dapple for example), so warriors cannot get them; no cats named after colors because colors and feelings/personalities are basically the same words in their language; honorifics are adverbs or adjectives like Running or Bright added at the start of a name, therefore those cannot be names; leaders get a new name upon receiving their nine lives, those names can break most of these rules because leaders are legendary.

-Fireheart my boy, I used to draw him with a full head of curls but the design felt too complex on the face so now it's just a couple tufts on the top. His cheek fluff, fluffy nose and floppy ears are going to be Firekin deadringers, everyone gets at least one. Other than that I like to make him striped and with a lighter belly to truly sell the fire look.

-Cricketpurr (Graystripe), who I love giving a stupid mustache to and then offloading it to all his children too. His nose is red because the figurine makes it red, and I like giving him a couple more stripes.

-Ravenscruff (Ravenpaw) who does not get an adult name because he dipped before that, and Dusthill (Dustpelt) (still thinking of changing it to something else... Dustmound maybe?) look alike because they're brothers. The white patches are the same, they also got a white tail tip, and the two pointed "mask" on Ravenscruff has the same shape as Dusthill's sickass eyebrows.

-Sandstorm my girlie, first time trying to give her the eyemask marking since designing her dad Stoatrun (Runningwind) and I think she looks nice, even if I might tweak the colors later.

-Bluestar! Her old name was Hailmoon. I like how the mane makes her look a bit like a wolf. Other than that I think her eyes look pretty.

-Blighted Aspenleaf (Spottedleaf) gave me trouble from start to finish BUT I think she looks pretty nice, her silly hair especially. I also love the little heart marking on her ear.

-Tigerslash (Tigerclaw) has braided stripes, which are like if leopard spots became stripes, with the center of a different color. Other than that though I might change their shape, especially the one on top of his head.

-Bogsnarl (Yellowfang) is extra fluffy and extra scruffy. Her pupils have a redder contour which I also wanna give to her son. Other than that it's a pretty standard design lol.

Hope yall like them and sorry for the hard pivot from one blog to another.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So season 3. Let's do this!

This took so so so long and is not quite where/what I wanted it to be soooo... I am so sorry 😅🥲 this will most likely be 2 parts cause... Yeah, just life man.

Actually some dialogue in this one? Sure, a line or two, as a treat.

(Part1) (part2)

Steve had been working at Scoops Ahoy for a few weeks now and he feels like he's built a decent rapport with his coworker Robin. She's witty and snarky and opinionated and when Steve wears a more tinted lipgloss than he intended resulting in a customer clocking it and saying something rude that he can't help but smile his dead-eyed customer service smile at, she clocks out for her lunch early (and takes an extra 15 minutes) and comes back with a full face of makeup and shoos him into the back with the mascara she bought from the shop a couple stores over. They both start coming to work with at least mascara, eyeliner and lipstick and Steve loves it. He compliments the hand-drawn designs on her shoes and she asks where he got his rainbow heart pin. They mostly disagree on music they listen to -she still lets him drag her to a couple live music nights at The Hideout with him and Billy every now and then anyway- but their politics and basic life philosophies line up pretty well.

He could do without the 'You Rule / You Suck' board, especially when Billy gets in on it and adds tallies from a little notebook he starts keeping when he and Steve hang out outside of kids and work. And the jokes about his kids (and occasionally Billy) when they come through for free passage to the movies. And the jabs about his parents' money like he still has access to that or their house.

He doesn't tell her that he was cut off and disowned and kicked out. He doesn't tell her that he had to get a job to help pay for his community college courses because he was a disappointment that couldn't get into a pre-approved 4-year university and that meant no college fund and he was still a few years away from being 21 and having access to the trust fund his grandparents set up for him when he was still just a lump of forming cells. And even then anything in that will probably be blown on buying himself his own permanent place instead of just a hand-me-down trailer in the middle of the woods so he needs to save for things like bills and a mortgage.

He doesn't tell her that the reason he lets the kids get away with so much is because they're *his* and they've already seen more fucked up shit than the cops in this town (save Hop) and he'll be damned if they don't get to just be kids. He'll be damned if they decide he's someone they need to hide from and sneak around like they hide and sneak from Joyce and Hop cause that's how they didn't know about half the shit the kids got up to while the adults were doing their best to take care of things themselves. He doesn't tell her that he's paying "rent" to the chief of police (it's way less than he should be but it's all Hop would take).

He doesn't tell Robin a lot of things.

Then sometime after Robin finally warmed up to him but before Dustin comes back from camp, Eddie Munson walks into Scoops Ahoy, his metalhead nerdy entourage in tow. He orders a plain scoop of vanilla with sprinkles in a cup and one of the others also orders something small and simple (while longingly eyeing their diabetes-inducing, horribly artificial tasting, bubblegum flavor when Munson turns away) before all of them are squeezing into one of the largest booths, emptying out messenger bags and backpacks of overstuffed binders and scuffed up versions of very familiar looking textbooks. It's like looking at an older -slightly grungier- version of his kids.

"Gentlemen, now that 🎶school's out for summer🎶-" There's a musical lilt as he says it that sounds vaguely familiar to Steve, "-and it has been confirmed that I will in fact be held captive for yet another stint in the hell they call Hawkins High School it is time we confer and conspire for the next year of Hellfire and the little sheep that will be joining our flock." He kinda loses track of it after that because then his kids are rushing in demanding tasters of everything and edging towards the lifting part of the counter with a look in their eyes that speaks of mischief. He puts up the initial fuss about them only visiting him for his backrooms access and that they promised to only come over when there were no customers around. He lets them through anyway.

He notices Munson eyeing him as he puts the partition back in place shaking his head and Robin laughing at him as she washed their ice cream scoops. The one that's vaguely more familiar looking than the rest and reminds him of a taller, angrier, Dustin with a better hair regimen isn't quite glaring at him but is definitely paying more attention than the rest of Munson's posse and seems more suspicious than Eddie's curious.

The metalheads are still there when Billy shows up stinking of chlorine in clothes that are damp where they cling to his frame. The group loosens up a little when he shoots Steve his signature smug smirk as he shrugs on his denim jacket that -like Steve's own jacket hanging out of sight in the staffroom- had begun accumulating patches and pins since Neil's incarceration. Unlike Steve's, Billy's has homages to bands like Mötley Crue, Deff Leppard, Twisted Sister and Guns N' Roses with little trails of shakily embroidered flowers and constellations on the collar and hems and filling the spaces between the patches and pins. Billy also has a small pink triangle on the lapel where Steve has a rainbow. Steve pretends not to notice the way the group goes a little quiet as Billy starts his usual routine of sunnily demanding tasters of all the available flavors and then again with sprinkles to "-really get an idea of their ✨nuance✨, prettyboy" before deciding on a scoop of double chocolate with a scoop of raspberry vanilla in a cup with sprinkles and one of their fresh waffle cones on top. Like always.

"Really branching out there aren't ya, tough guy?" Steve keeps his face as stoney as possible but he can't help the humored edge to his voice.

Billy just winks at him running his tongue over his teeth as he gives Steve an exaggerated leer, "Gotta keep you on your toes, handsome." Robin fake gags and Steve laughs and Eddie Munson turns red as he stares at the two joking jocks. Billy goes quiet as he stares at his ice cream and Steve recognizes the look on his face, tells the blonde to go sit down in their usual booth and he'd be taking his break soon and they can talk about whatever's bothering him.

What's bothering him is Neill getting parole for 'good behavior', Jim only telling the Mayfield-Hargroves almost a week after he was let out because that was actually the same day he himself found out. Billy found out just before a summer basketball practice session and thinks he snapped at an underclassmen he's been trying to get to open up about what Billy is 90% certain is going on in the kid's home, but he knows that cops can't do much if the victim(s) refuse to trust in those trying to help them. He's worried about the kid he snapped at. Worried about Susan and Max. Worried that even with the restraining order Neill will try something. Billy tells Steve he had thought he saw Neill around the outskirts of town during errands or during his turn to haul the kids around a couple of times before Hop told them and now he's sure it wasn't just paranoia. Steve tells him they'll figure it out, reminds him he's not alone in this

That makes Billy smile, small and tired but real and grateful. His shoulders are still tense and there's still a wariness in the smallest crease between his eyebrows that makes Steve ask if there's anything else. They talk about some of the weird dreams Billy's been having that makes Steve encourage him to talk to El. Just to make sure Billy isn't going through what happened to Will the last alternate-dimension-go-around.

They make plans to head out to see the two Hoppers after Steve's shift. Come up with a basic timeline of when and where Billy thinks he saw Neil so they have something to start with for Hop. Put together an idea of how involved Billy wants to be in whatever plan Hop comes up with. They're interrupted by a group of girls swanning into the shop and Steve being yelled at by Robin to get himself back to work. As he gets up from the table Steve levels Billy with a look that makes the blond think about the way Max and the kids described Steve when they talked about how he fought off the pack of demodogs in the junkyard, planting himself between them and snarling snapping danger like Galahad himself.

Steve looks him in the eyes and says "I swear Billy, we're going to get through this, we'll take care of it and keep you and the girls safe. Hop knows what's going on and even Callahan can't get away with letting that piece of shit fall through the cracks after what he pulled." He leans in close and bites out probably louder than he should for the amount of people in the shop, "And if that fucker gets near any of you I've got Darling in Baby's trunk and I am not afraid to use her on a human shaped monster instead."

Author's (rambler's) Notes:

So, that's all I have for season 3 rn I am so sorry. 😭 I'm working on the next bit but I am so burnt out recently and now I'm unemployed cause of the ceiling at my job caving in which does not help the stress. So I unfortunately do not have a timeframe for you. 🥲 A couple of folks asked to be tagged so... Here you are? To be fair I'm not making any promises in regards to the taglist in the future, I will do my damnedest and y'all will have to bear with me.

I'm glad people are liking this and tbh this has gotten more attention than I expected so thanks? I appreciate the appreciation of my ramblings. Feel free to scream at/with me about this au in my asks box and I'll respond when/as I can. I'm just glad people are enjoying this. 🙃

@heartsong18

@knightofthieves

[artoriarts]

Ok I don’t want to go make art and I don’t want to go find something good to scrounge up and post so I will instead spout assorted madcom headcanons. these are far from the last you will see from me.

- sanmos 4 lyfe (big sloppy heart emoji) they are both like playfully flirty in diff ways with other people but also so so monogamous at the same time they love eachother sooo much have the healthiest relationship known to man. ignore all the killings.

- 2bhank with the same energy as medic tf2 x heavy tf2. but like also 2b is catboy herder for hank. he holds the laser pointer in the relationship. hank isn’t like full creature I’m still the kind of girlie to place him solidly as kind of the stoic and dysfunctional sociopath but he’s got some of those beasty tendencies in him. the two have such strong attachment to each other but they both have such difficulty expressing it. hank doesn’t know how human well and 2b simply isn’t a soft person even when he wants to be. but they work with what they have. deimos and sanford are so invested in their relationship they chitchat about it constantly. in the most supportive way they want it to go well they just talk about the two being cute and try to help when they hit rocky points. the power couple is so stable they can take on other couple’s drama.

- I don’t know what the ship name is for tricky and hank but there’s like a tiny bit of that too. tricky is hank’s crazy ex but they were never in an actual relationship clown has just been desperate for the dick day one and has not let up for a single second. especially after the halo fiasco literally everyone hates them but they stay silly

- whitehank exists because of something along the lines of hank’s genome getting copied to aahw database when he went in the magnifier and using that agency got the bright idea that if they can’t beat hank. they can make their own. I don’t know actually how she should fit into everything but I like the idea it feels appropriately silly for madcom. the only thing I’m really decided on is that she eventually switches sides and 2b, carrying the entire trans community of nevada on his old man spine, hooks her up on titty skittles and him and hank informally adopt her because cold sad clone babygirl needs parents. she’s like all of hank’s feral swagger if you made it sopping wet and also like garage band punk. I can’t decide if she’s musclegirl as I’ve drawn her before or make her skinny legend I need to lock down the vibes. One important design thing that i know is coming however is that since she’s a copy of mag hank specifically, while hank gets demagnified in my little post canon design shit, she does not, so she is de facto tallest out of the. what do you even call the gang. just the gang? agency for hank wimbleton? the motley crew. the dnd party. nevada’s most wanted. that one actually works we’ll go with that

- funny thing I’ve considered for sheriff is that after whatever happens in project nexus dude just. pisses off somewhere. half hooks up with jeb to make a neutral party for people who just want to fuckin live. while jeb’s on the offensive side of that trying to actively stop the madness sherrif is the defensive side just making settlements for normal people to live they lives. something along those lines. it’s quaint. him and whitehank get together maybe. little guy woos the giant cryptid lady with his southern charm.

- the auditor is workplace sexual harassment personified. simultaneously in the fanfic suave way and the restraining order kind. they talk like stephan weyte. they think they’re soo cool and when someone doesn’t think they are when they want them to they run away and cry.

- I wish I could come up with something for jeb to like round out the primary cast but like honestly he’s the one I spin around in my head the least. I like his motive of make shit normal but maybe he’s just like too clear cut. he’s already got a full character there’s nothing for me to add.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[melodyswishes]

Hey you. Yes you. Want random context about oc x cannon things? Well I’ve made many things just now out of boredom while my art block is getting on my nerves. Enjoy this random lore I thought in my head, Regarding the Lego monkie kid show. Enjoy. And if not here for these type of content, Then please scroll on. Or simply leave.

The moon base.

Chang’e resides here with Lina. Earning Lina to roam freely around here and explore. Whenever Lina would stumble upon things she would scramble to something chaotic with it a bit before cleaning it up and continuing on. However in her point of view, This is a lovely idea of her relaxing in the moon base. And since cooking with Chang’e was a cooking show lina has picked up a few cooking tips here and there appearing on the show a couple of rare times. Either in the background help prepping the ingredients or washing the dishes quick and easy for Chang’e.

If you didn’t (which you really didn’t) know about lina is that she has a little tiny robot bunny that follows her around now after season 3.

The mech bunny is Lina’s companion as a little digital pet. Since Chang’e didn’t know what to do with the fella after Mk shrunk the poor bunny, She rewarded Lina from her good deeds by gifting her the mech bunny. Having Lina to decide she would name that very mech bunny Chi-Chi.

Sometimes Mei would see lina carry the lil dude around and ask if she could pet it, Only to be met with metal. Forgetting that the mech bunny is metal and wires instead of fluffiness like people would expect.

“At least it was cute though.. But I wonder if I could have one of those!!” -Mei (not cannon quote)

Outside of the moon base

Lina goes to pigsy’s noodles to get a quick snack and probably hang out around the gang for a spare couple of hours before heading back to the moon base. It’s either pigsy sometimes not recognizing Lina since she’s often not really around as much in season 1-2 due to Chang’e asking for quick errands but season 3-? is when Lina is really committed to know what the heck is going on nowadays.

Sometime around when the emperor had fallen from his place, Lina oddly felt a similar heart pulse around Mk, Macaque, Wukong and nezha. Lina shares a deep connection with feeling chang’e emotions rarely at times. Even including what she feels and it applies to Lina as well.

Lina has often hanged around the gang and picked up a few things from each and every one of them. Mk, His small sudden clumsiness when in situations that are clearly dangerous. Mei’s confidence for getting the things she wants to know out of people. Pigsy’s common logic in situations that are dangerous, Hence from around the time back in season one when mk called himself INVINCIBLE! On the same day he got his invincibility taken away on the same day (lol.)

Sandy’s calm, Cheerful manners to situations even not resorting to violence sometimes even if it’s not that serious. There would be some way to try and get past the situation from that point. Tang’s knowledge for many things even if so going full on dork on explaining a whole chapter to everyone to know about the information for one tiny thing. You’d say that Lina kinda is the same like tang. Going on about his knowledge for things like she goes off telling about her knowledge about the moon goddess, Chang’e.

Other characters

Aria is a polite older woman than Lina. About 4 years older if you’d know, And is friends with redson about things. Apart from her being snobby at some times, Aria means well from things. I can imagine Aria became friends with redson by sharing relatable things with him at times. But this will not form a relationship between the two as they will continue to be friends only.

I can imagine as a gift of redson being close friends with Aria, Aria is rewarded by her very own harp design. Aria plays the flute but never the harp. So this was difficult for her at first, But soon later on she’d get use to it and practically helps healing the crew with her sounds of her harp strings being played gently.

Aria is rarely around them. If anything when Lina and Aria met, They clicked together like a friendship bracelet. With a little help of Lina constantly gifting her with things that Lina shouldn’t have— Lina has a special curse of talking to random people without even knowing them for a long time. I’ll talk about Lina and Aria’s relationship in a little while ahead, I wouldn’t wanna give away too much information now would I?

Until then, IM GONE! (I did this last night and assume that I fell asleep after typing this.)

[bootleg-sara]

It’s been… *checks watch*… nearly 9 months since the last character batch. Oh no

It’s okay though, cause we only got a few more left to do! There’s two more left and we’ll be done! Sorry it’s taken so long to get all these designs out, I kept on get distracted. The future of the Purgatory au is uncertain as my interests have heavily shifted. But I wanted to at least get all the main character designs out.

As usual with my other character batches, I’ll be writing descriptions for them to better show off their character and relation to one another.

No doodles this time, I have a full art piece with them and Jacob and Esau once I post them. But do continue reading for more of their personality!

One fo the few surviving angels from the Garden of Eden. She’s viewed as a very important and prized angel because of her survival. Bethany had a big role to fill, being a beacon of purity and good faith. Her main role is to run the many towns that make up Heaven. As well as help the new souls that recently arrived from earth. Bethany takes her job very seriously and does not accept any distraction when she’s in her zone. Though she’s also less strict than most others in her position, which leads to her being a rather popular leader. Constantly busy with all sorts of different responsibilities with how high her status is.

One fo the few surviving angels from the Garden of Eden. She’s viewed as a very important and prized angel because of her survival. Bethany had a big role to fill, being a beacon of purity and good faith. Her main role is to run the many towns that make up Heaven. As well as help the new souls that recently arrived from earth. Bethany takes her job very seriously and does not accept any distraction when she’s in her zone. Though she’s also less strict than most others in her position, which leads to her being a rather popular leader. Constantly busy with all sorts of different responsibilities with how high her status is.

When she’s not working, she spends most her time training her magic. Secretly, she doesn’t feel connected to her choir of a Virtue. Bethany has a deep love for the stars and loves to study them. And her past of being one fo the few defenders of humans in her Garden days, she feels much more connected to Dominions. She study the stars of space and practices shield magic. While her use is still rudimentary, she prefers to use her protective magic above her cleansing fires. She’s also no stranger to dabbling in “experimental” magic, which has gotten many odd stares from fellow angels. But with how important she is viewed as, no one has the bravery to tell her to stop.

Bethany is also pretty stubborn, it’s hard to shake her iron will. If you only saw her during her working hours, you’d think she was an abrasive know-it-all jerk. She has corrected people plenty of times, it’s usually out of care. Her tone can make that hard to tell with her bluntness sometimes. Her faith can lead to her making decisions against her own desires. She’s a firm believer that losing one will always be better than losing the mass. If her hand is pulled, she’s will through her own friends into the fire to protect the greater good. But if she can avoid such a fate, she absolutely will.

Magdalene: Voice claim: Linger by The Cranberries

The well renown powerhouse of Heaven (ever since Samson was exiled) and gentle giant to the weakened.

Magdalene is a kind person at heart. She’s highly social and loves getting to know people. Her social battery isn’t exactly long, but everyone who has hung out with her describes her as an absolute joy to be around. She likes to spend her time taking part in friendly spars, and surprises her spar mates with just how much strength she has. Her favorite kind of fight is boxing, though she’s dipped her toes in all sorts of different physical activities.

She also have a very strong stance on giving voices to those who can’t speak. Magdalene is not afraid to speak out against the ruling of heaven if she feels they are being unjust. A lot of people are off put by this part of her, feeling it’s a bit overdramatic. No matter what she will passionately stand by her word. She’s gotten a few things done this way too, aiming to help everyone who is in need of it.

What’s their relationship like?

Magdalene and Bethany have a strained relationship. Magdalene’s want them protect the few and Bethany’s convictions to protect the many has lead to a fair bit of clashing. Magdalene has stood against Bethany actions on multiple occasions. While at one point they may of been able to come to a few agreements, they haven’t done so since the exile of Samson. Magdalene firmly believing he should of been invited in, while Bethany was sure he needed to stay out. They haven’t gotten along since. Only staying civil to avoid having large fights out in the middle of town. All they both want is to make people feel safe, unfortunately they both happen to have very different views on what that looks like.

I don’t have much else to add, enjoy ✌️

Honestly, I’m not very sure how the future of this project is looking. I’ve lost the luster I once had for telling it’s story. Which truly sucks, because there was a good story to tell. But from the lack of a real conclusion to my passion slowly dying out, it’s not looking great. I think I might write a big Google doc of what I did have plan for this au, then soundly put it to rest. It’s terribly bittersweet, but I don’t see myself continuing this for much longer.

Hopefully I can find the same passion with my newer ideas. Meanwhile, thanks for staying

[shebeafancyflapjack]

A Slip Through Worlds (Part 9)

Annie tries to help Mary, while Silver plays a dangerous game. Based on @idiotwithanipad 's Gore Au.

-

"No, no, no, nos!"

Annie heard the ruckus coming from the top of the stone tower adjacent to her and Mary's little cottage all the way down and through to the kitchen.

She abandoned the sourdough loaf she was halfway through preparing from hand at the sound of feet stomping and glass smashing. After running her hands under the tap, she opened the wooden door to the spiral stone steps, leading up into the tower.

"Mary? Everything well, love?" She called up.

Stupid question, she knew.

Her wife, as official as could in this world that lacked any overseers of legal matters, hadn't been right for the past few days. Not since their window to the Lands Below had been covered with mist, stopping Annie from looking in on her old friends, and Mary from checking on her daughter. She had been twitchy and nervous, anxiety rising in the other woman like she hadn't seen since they were Livings, but Annie had managed to help calm her, assuring her that they would soon learn the reason. And it wasn't as if any harm could come to those already dead.

Her and her big sodding mouth. No wonder it was what got her killed.

The tower had not been part of Annie's original design when she had built the cottage, initially for her and Mary alone. But when she'd watched the quirky teen come into Mary's existence, and quickly her heart, she'd suspected that the cottage would need an extra room at some point.

It had only been when Mary, finally, arrived that she came up with the idea for a tower, something of the same era as the cottage but different style, giving it a fairytale aesthetic that suited the forests and waterfalls where Annie had first laid the foundations. Her daughter was young but close enough to adulthood that she would want her own space, her own entryway to come and go at will, while also connected to her mother's house.

After several years since Mary had ascended, it was almost complete. Annie climbed the stairs two steps at a time, passing up the first floor that was set up for her witchcraft practices, potion and herb mixing and the like, then the second which held a mini library full of all her favorite fantasy books and many that might appeal to her along with a cosy fireplace for her to read them by, and lastly up to the third floor, Silver's bedroom, which Mary was just adding the final touches to.

Annie poked her head through the ajar oak door, taking a look into the room where, hopefully, Mary's daughter would be happy to stay and rest. Stone walls decorated with hanging arms of ivy surrounded her, plush rugs covering the floor, another fireplace, except this time with a wall mounted television placed above the mouth. It faced a queen sized four poster bed with ebony and violet bedsheets, blankets and pillows, looking comfy enough to make Annie want to dive in on it.

Young Amy had visited recently, at Mary's request, wanting some suggestions on what extra furniture to decorate the room. Thankfully, Silver had recently invited Amy into a memory of her childhood bedroom, so she had plenty of ideas for posters and game consoles and stuffed toys to help make her feel at home once she arrived.

When...

"Oh sod it!"

Smash.

Annie winced as Mary broke one of the single plane archway windows with her own fist, shattering it to tiny pieces amidst the floor.

"What are you doing?!" She rushed to her wife and grabbed her hand, checking it over.

No blood. Not that bleeding was something to worry about here but...they could still feel pain.

Mary exhaled, a vein popping in her forehead.

"I is so stupid! I did finish putting up all these windows and then remembered - Little'en won't wants for windows! She doth love sleeping outdoors!"

She smashed another one, this time with a thrust of her elbow at least. Annie winced at the sharp noise.

"They has to all be open. Wes can put enchantments so the rain and snow never comes in...unless she wants it to, o'course." Mary fretted; "She mights not even want for a roof. She'll want to always be ables to see the moon and stars lookings down on her. Does I takes off the whole thing or just makes her a little skylight? What d'you think?"

"I think, my love," started Annie, gently touching Mary's arms; "That's you should sit down. Take a breather."

The taller woman shook her head, fiddling with the amulet she wore frequently these days around her neck. Two small crystals held together in a silver container; obsidian and spinel.

Her ex husband, John, who lived just a short walk away, happened to be fixated on gems, and when Mary showed him Silver in the waterfall, he'd given her the amulet as a present, having crafted it in his own forge.

"Hopefully will make it feel like your little'en be close to yours heart, Mary, love." The bright eyed peasant had said.

There weren't too many men that Annie was fond of, but Mary's ex was one of the few good'uns in her, albeit short, book.

"I can'ts stops, Annie, I can't." She says, breathless, "Gots all this glass to sweep up now, don't steps near it."

She watched as Mary tried to summon a dust pan and brush. Annie interrupted by grabbing her wrists.

"Mary, forget about the glass and the room for just five minutes, yeah? Even if your girl be sucked off this instance, she wouldn't puff into existence here right away. You has plen'y o' time."

Her wife tugged at the sleeves of the thin jumper she was wearing, neither of them favoring to wear the clothes of their own era. They had donned them recently, in order to appear to young Amy when she first got sucked off, just to help her to know who they were. Mary would sometimes were a clean, bright version of the simple dresses she wore as a girl, but Annie opted for anything post 1920's female fashion, the more vibrant and alternate the better.

"T'is not just in case of that's. I...I has to keep busy, Annie, you knows this."

"Yes, my love, I do." It was why she said nothing when, first thing as soon as they arrived home, Mary headed up to Silver's bedroom. Annie had left her to it and gone to the kitchen.

But then came the crashing and cursing. She could hardly risk leaving her wife to have a full blown meltdown alone.

"You be no help to your babe hurtin' yourself." Annie tried to tell her.

"I be no helps to hers at all! This truly be the best I can do? Preparing for her a room she may not use for centuries!"

"It might not be that long."

Heavens forbid the child be cursed even more so than she already be. If she were trapped in that world as their Rogh seemed to be.

"What if she chooses not to stay here? She may prefer to live with her da." Mary huffed, the two of them having briefly met the dark haired man when he came to peek at the waterfall once; "She was fond of him too."

"Even he admitted you spent more time as her parent than he. You is her mum, Mary, she'll be chuffed to bits to know you made a home ready for her here's with us."

Mary ran her fingers over one of the posters that Amy had brought round and helped set up. Annie had no idea what an Evanescence was, but the blinding white face of the woman seemed to be watching them intently.

Carefully, Annie guided her wife to sit on the edge of the bed that had been neatly made. Amidst the pillows was a cuddly toy shaped like a lion cub that Amy had also brought.

Mary reached to grab it and held it on her lap.

"I needs her here now, Annie. I needs her in my armses." She spoke as she stared at the washed out plastic eyes.

All Annie felt that she could do was rub the other woman's back in that spot where she knew the tension gathered.

"I know, love. She will be. Sooner than yous expect."

Mary sighed; "How foolish could I bes to thinks my apology and blessing to have Alison change her name to mine own be enough to protect her fragile mind. T'is not enough. She needs her mum there. Not some piece of papers."

"She has our Robin." Annie reminded; "Amy did say he was taking care of her. I know he'd been a bit of a plonker of late, but he'll be good with her now. Remember how well he looked after little Kitty when she first joined us? And sweet Jemima?"

Her wife nodded, sniffling; "And mes. He was kindly with me, though I barely spoke a word till you cames 'long."

"Exactly. I know she ain't my daughter, but if she were there be no other man I trust to keep her safe than that sweet savage."

Annie could feel Mary's muscles start to relax, though tears still leaked down her face.

"I's just needs that water to work again. If I can only see her, I then know she be okay. But nows..." She gritted her teeth.

A burning smell tickled Annie's nose. At first she wondered if she'd left some bread in the oven downstairs. And then she looked to see the ivy hanging along the wall start to blackened and shrivel.

Smoke began to waft from the taller woman's hair.

"Mary, what is it?" The same thing had happened before, outdoors, when Amy had explained to them what her da had told her.

"I...I cannots feel her. Even without the mirror, I coulds still feel a part of her. My heart would still ache when she did cry, and feel light and bouncy when she danced with joy." Mary shook her head; "But now...there be nothing. Just a void, like there was when my first child dids not wake in her crib."

Damn. Annie couldn't bare to imagine such a pain.

When Mary had first arrived and searched for the babe she lost all those years ago, she found her fully grown after having been brought up by John alone. She got to know the girl with her face and his laugh, even stayed in contact, but time had already passed. She was no longer Mary's child in truth. A blessing then that she had found another, in kind.

"She not be there, Annie. T'is like...my darling girl no longer exists."

-

Robin finally found her in the entertainment room, what had formerly been the ball room back before the renovations.

A balding man in a blue suit was on the stage, crooning some tune about a woman named Mandy.

There were many Living couples, mostly in their sixties and over, dancing slowly together to the tune. Twirling between all of them was Silver, weaving her way around each of them, waving her arms, like some punk gothic Cupid.

"See? Told you she was fine." Julian said, catching up to him.

"Fine? What if she walk through them?!" He berated.

"She seems to have it under control, mate. It's better than keeping her in that room, don't you think?" Interjected Pat, who was already sat in one of the chairs at the side.

He watched her. The same immovable smile still stretched across her lips, but there was a soft sadness in her eyes. Not as distressed as she had been earlier.

"Music seems to be helping the child, Robin." Said Fanny.

They were all too blasé about it. Which made sense, she wasn't their responsibility.

He walked forward and caught her arm before two old men holding each other close could move through her.

"Moonah Girl." He said, softly.

"Oh! Hehehe. You found me." She giggled, taking his other hand; "D'you wanna dance with me, Robin? I already danced with the poet and the nice Scout man. You should get a dance too!"

This wasn't exactly his style of dancing. Too slow and boring, not enough energy. He smiled a little, letting her sway against him for a moment.

"Moonah Girl, you know what time it is?" He asked, gently.

"Uhhh....Lunchtime? Hehehe."

"No. Gone mid night." Robin informed her.

She gasped; "Oh noes! My glass slippers will disappear, hehehe. No wait, that's the only thing that doesn't happen..."

He shook his head. It was a little bit like she had drunk too much puddle water.

"Nearly time for big sleep. You feel very tired soon, 'member? Should get to bed." He told her, feeling like he was back in one of his tribe's many caves, trying to coax his cubs into their sleep-rolls.

The nineteen year old released a huge sigh.

"But I was in that room for aaaages! Want some fun before I go 'sleep." She threw her arms around his neck; "Just one dance, Mr. Robin, please!"

He threw a look over to Pat and the others watching at the side. See what they did? She was already settled in her room, should have just stayed there.

But he can't not indulge her when she's been through so much.

"One dance. Then sleep. Deal?"

Silver giggled; "Deal. Hello, Kya, I can feel you wriggling away in there. You dancing with your daddy too? Hehehe."

He put his paws around her back and rested his cheek against her hair, moving slowly side to side, copying the boring couples around them. Give him another seven year old's birthday disco any day.

Oh well. At least she wasn't asking for her Mummy at the moment.

"Were you cross that I left the room without telling you, Mr. Robin? You were having such a boring talk with the man with no trousers." She explained.

He shook his head; "No, sorry, my fault. You can go anywhere. Just...would prefer you always have someone with you. It very dangerous for Moonah Girl. Could get lost or hurt."

"I'm not a baby. My echolation isn't as good here but I can see a little bit." She told him.

Guilt stung his chest a little. It wasn't his intention to become some helicopter parent. Substitute parent, he should say.

He stroked her hair; "Just...want Moonah Girl to be safe."

"Hehehe. You sound like Mummy. She worried a lot too. Never liked to let me go play on my own." She said, "Took so long for her to let me go play with Amy. And only because she trusted Mr. Humphrey...eventuality."

Robin frowned. Mary never met Amy. And she never had any problem with Silver making friends. In fact, she encouraged her to do so as much as possible. Sometimes it was as if the "Mummy" that Moonah Girl grieved for was a completely different person to the Mary he knew.

With any luck, a month's long rest would help heal her poor head. Rearrange all those memories of Mary and Amy and put them back in the proper order.

"Sweet Robin?"

"Yes?"

She nuzzled her head beneath his beard; "I promise I won't go back to the wall. I won't risk anything bad happening again. I'll stay close. I'll be a good girl."

More nonsense, for the most part. But he nodded all the same, holding her tight.

"Me think that wise, Moonah Girl."

-

"Come now, sweetheart. Almost time." The maternal voice beckoned.

"Oh, please Mum, just five more minutes!" Silver begged, stroking the giant snout of the scaly beast beside her as she sat on its claw.

The witch clicked her tongue; "Little'en, the dragons will all be here when you wake. And I is sure you will see plenty more in your dreams." She stretched out her hand, "Now c'mon."

The teen groaned and picked herself up as if every bone in her body weighed a ton. Skipping off the dragon's claw, she smoothed down the skirts of her dress before turning to run her hand along its muzzle.

"Thanks for the ride, gorgeous. See you in a month." She giggled as the giant lizard blew a waft of warm air into her face.

She left it with a kiss and then skipped off towards the witch, who was smiling at her, wearing her "unburned" face along with a gown matching Silver's style.

The teen linked their fingers together as they walked across the emerald fields and back towards the enchanted forest.

"I knew them beasts would lift your spirits." She smiled.

"It's impossible to not have fun riding on a dragon! That's the ultimate fantasy dream." She grinned.

"Wait till your sister is here. She'll show you all sorts that she gets up to. Stuff mine own mind could not conjure up."

Silver felt the bounce in her feet begin to grow heavy as the night wore on.

"Are you tired already, my love? Would you like a carry?" The witch offered.

"No, Mum, I'm fine." She said, like any child determined to prove her maturity; "It's not that far." Though she did have to rub at her eyes.

"I has made your bed of blue flowers double, so there be space for both of you girls, once you wake. You don't mind sharing, do you?" Asked Mary.

She shook her head.

"I always wanted a sister. A proper one. The one I had...as a Living....well you know how she was."

"Hmm. Buboes and poxes to that wench." The witch tutted.

"Exactly. I'm so excited to have a sister who will be nice to me. And she's basically my clone so I know what to deal with, hehe." Silver chuckled.

"She be very much like you. But also not. I has seen you each has your own personalities. Both beautiful as the moon, just at different phases." The witch complimented, putting her arm around the girl's shoulders.

Silver leaned into her as they walked, feeling the warmth of the taller woman and trying not to think of the charred husk of the wraith beneath the glamour.

When they reached the spot of her bed, Not Robin was crouched nearby. No doubt ordered to keep a vigil as she slept.

He didn't look at her, keeping that grim frown facing out towards the shadows of the woods.

"Rest down there, sweet girl." Said the witch, and Silver obliged, laying down on the blue petals and resting her head at the softest patch.

Other Mary sat beside her, stroking her hair with those fingers cloaked in velvet smoke.

"It warms my blackened heart to see you settle in so quickly. I knew you woulds come to understand, this be where you belong." The witch said.

Silver hummed in agreement; "Hope Amy can handle two Silvers. I know your 'ally' isn't too excited."

Not Robin merely grunted from his spot.

"Oh, pay him no mind. He be grumpy but soft as a hamster within." The witch smiled, winking over at her friend who just turned away.

Silver let out a yawn, feeling her eyelids start to droop as the moon waned against the rising dawn.

"Mum?"

"Yes, sweet girl?"

"It won't...hurt, will it. When you bring other...My sister here?"

The witch tilted her head; "Hurt how, my love? Hurt thee?"

"Me, you...the universe, both of them..." She bit her lip; "S'just. I was always told not to mess with that sort of stuff when astral projecting. Can go really wrong. I mean, look at what already happened. I just...don't want anything bad to happen to the other Silver. Or you."

The witch's hand stilled on her hair. She tilted Silver's face to turn and look at her.

"You lovely little thing. There's no need to fret. My darling girl did not know what she was doing when she broke through that wall. But I do. I mights need some practice but I will find my way to her."

"Are you...Are you sure I can't help? I want to. Honest." She tried, treading very carefully.

Mary shook her head.

"I wouldn't risk losing both of ye. Mummy has it all in hand. You trust that, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Yes, Mum. I'll....go find some more dragons instead." Silver promised with a smile.

"Good girl." The witch leaned down to kiss her brow. "Sweet dreams now. Mum will take care of everything."

Silver nestled her head down, letting the witch continue to caress and hum her lullabies.

Briefly, she caught a glimpse of Not Robin, staring at her from his spot. His ancient eyes showed a suspicion based on his famous sixth sense. An intuition that showed evidence of that sharp mind beneath the savage.

Silver subtly put her finger to her lips before she closed her eyes.

Don't betray her. Please. Don't give the game away.

She might only have one shot at this.

Tonight, or at least before this fucking month was through, she would find her way back home.

[row-boats3]

A piece I wrote in like 20 minutes because I have Encanto brain-rot and I started thinking of how Mirabel got her “gift” in a Celebrity!Madrigals AU

……..

Mirabel returned home sluggishly, tossing her bag to the couch as soon as she crossed through the door of their home.

Unsurprisingly, the house was empty.

Mama had gone to an interview for her new cook-book, dragging Papa with her as even with her collected front she hated doing interviews alone. Tia Pepa was working hard on recording her next album with Tio Felix. Dolores was at a meeting for her cover art, Luisa at training for the athletic event, and Camilo at a table read for a new, exclusive movie he wasn’t allowed to tell her about yet.

Even Senorita perfecta Isabela would be welcome right now, but she was out too, negotiating a contract with a new, up-and-coming fashion boutique.

Once again, ordinary Mirabel was left alone as her extraordinary family won over the hearts of the public.

It wasn’t like Mirabel resents them for it.

(Well, maybe she did - just a little - but she really didn’t mean to.)

Mirabel loved her family more than anything, and they loved her. She knew her family loved her, they showed it every day. They were just so busy with interviews, and work, and fans, and fame.

(And yeah, maybe things have been tough for a couple years since Camilo had started getting serious acting work. Maybe Abuela was starting to pressure Mirabel, or asking her why she hadn’t started working on something impressive like her sisters or cousins. Maybe Mirabel felt just a tiny bit alone every time her parents, or sisters, or cousins were too busy to ask about her day or help with homework. That didn’t mean they loved her any less, right?

Right?)

She turned the TV on, just to drown out the silence of the apartment. It landed on an old rerun of a talk-show from last week, an interview of Dolores quietly teasing her new album. Mirabel left in on, the familiar voice always calming.

There she was, home alone, given full range of the top floor apartment building her family owned.

She was was wholly, completely, unequivocally bored.

With nothing better to do, she decided to actually do some homework, pulling out notebooks of her bag and flipping to the next clean page of her math one. Her eyes wandered, smiling at the paper.

Just before it was a page full of doodles from when she got bored in class, all symbols important to her family. Herbs for Mama, A thunderbolt (the name of Tia Pepa’s first solo album), a chameleon for Camilo, Flowers for Isabela who always said she wanted to be a florist before modeling took off. Beside the individual drawing had been a smaller sketch, the markings inside a pair of pants.

Mirabel paused.

She glanced down at her own, suddenly very plain skirt.

Her private school had many rules on dress code - no colored hair, uniform below the knees, black shoes.

They said nothing against modifying the turquoise uniform, did they?

In a sudden moment of weakness and ADHD hyperfixation, the teen shot up. Papa kept some extra sowing supplies in the back of his closet, didn’t he?

Somewhat quickly, with only a small fight with a jacket, she’d gotten the sowing kit and changed clothes to pull her skirt over her lap.

She sowed, carefully working the needle in and out of the fabric in a focus she’d never had before.

So often, she was “the other Madrigal”, the boring one, the child left to herself. So, if she had to be plain Mirabel, the least she could do was have a not-so-plain skirt.

Two weeks full of lonesome days passed by thanks to that needle and thread before the skirt was done, and she was no longer so plain.

She had no idea almost a year and a half after that, she sold her first fashion design, catapulting herself from ordinary Mirabel into the spotlight as one of the Magnificent Madrigals.

[hazbinextgeneration]

(John) Doe Eyed Ch5 Doe Date

Art of Smore by me

This was possibly the happiest point of her life. She's never felt so happy before. 

The next day she got up and ready for her date. It's been so long since she's actually gone out on one you know. And this guy was pretty cute. And she didn't sense any red flags from him, at least not yet. That's what dates were for y'know. To get to know someone else and see if you meshed well enough to start a relationship. He seemed nice enough and was honest when she asked him things. Which was more than she could say about others she went out with. Also she kinda promised him that she would give him a chance. Even if they didn't mesh them they could be friends, and she could definitely use some friends other than Rose in this new place. So she got up and got herself ready and headed out the door. Only to blink and pause.

Doe was already there.

He was right there at the bus stop outside her apartment. As soon as he saw her he gave a full armed wave. After a moment Fae shook her head moving a few long white locks of hers before smiling and approaching him.

"John! You're here! I wasn't expecting you so early! I thought you were going to call me first! I did give you my number!"

"I wanted to see you!," He gushed as she approached clasping his hands in front of him smiling widely, "Did you get the gift I left you?"

She blinked. "Huh? What gift?"

He suddenly looked a bit nervous. "Er... Nevermind. That'll probably come later."

She shook that off. "Well anyways, Im a bit hungry." She gestured to the left. "How about we head over to a small burger place near here? It has pretty good food."

He instantly nodded. "I'D LOVE TO!!"

She giggled again and grabbed his hand Which made his eyes go wide. "C'mon. I'll show you where it is."

Fae pulled him along behind her..and his expression became more love struck almost melting in her hold and pupils changing into red hearts. She pulled him along with her a few streets over and stopped at the small food court. Sweet! They were already selling burgers! She bought two of them, one for herself and Doe. Both ended up just sitting on a nearby bench with said food.

"So John?" He looked at her in question as he ate, cheeks puffed out as he ate. "What do you do for work?" He tilted his head with a questioning brow. "Y'know. Work? I work at the gas station you met me. Where do you work?"

He smiled. "Oh! I don't work anywhere!"

"Oh...So you work from home? Or are you self employed?" 

"You could say both!"

"That's pretty cool! I dunno many people who are self employed. So are you like a web designer or a constructor?"

"I am..." he stopped to blink and gain a thoughtful look. Seeming to wonder how to say something before smiling again. "I am a collector!"

"Oh? Oh! You mean you work with collectables?" That was pretty good for a job. The right market for whatever collectors were looking for could be worth thousands of dollars if not more. "What kind of collections do you work in? Cars? Antiques? Figurines?"

"All kinds of stuff! I find lots of things!" He then took another bigger bite of the burger. Oh. So he dabbled in all kinds of things? Neat. 

"That actually sounds pretty cool. It must be pretty hard to find some rare items I bet! I had a few jobs myself. Before working at the station I was a housekeeper for a hotel but before that I worked at a Dollar T.J.'s for a bit. I wanted to be an artist but unfortunately money, time, and college really put that plan down the drain. I-I still do it professionally just..more freelance." Fae cleared her throat as she caught him staring at her. "S-Sorry. You probably don't like me rambling on about things." 

"Oh no!" She blinked as he smiled widely. "I like it when you talk to me!"

She blinked surprised. "Really?" He nodded. No one had ever told her THAT before. "Oh. Ok! Um...So why did you decide to become a collector?"

"I like finding things! You never know what you dig up!" Oh. That seemed like a good enough reason. He tilted his head at her. "What do you like?"

"Oh...Well I like lots of things." She rambled on counting on her hands. "I like mystery movies especially Sherlock Holmes movies, it's fun to try and guess who's the criminal. I also like drawing of course but you could probably guess that by now. Walking around and seeing everything is pretty good too I guess." She smiled wider at him. "I also like rabbits. I even have one back home. His name's Smore. What about you? And pets?"

He shook his head. "I like baby rats!"

Rats? ...Well some people had mice and rats as pets. She guessed it wasn't much too different from a hamster or gerbil. "Oh. .. Can't say I share that sentiment but everyone likes different animals. What do you like to do for fun?"

"Walks. And collect things!"

"What kind of things do you collect?"

"Anything I find interesting. Sometimes bottles. Sometimes furniture. It depends on if I like it." Seemed like he was pretty open to a lot of things. That was a good thing.

"I like collecting things too!"

"You do?" He lit up.

Fae nodded. ''I like collecting cute little things to decorate my room or murder mystery books or movies. I also like getting art supplies."

"AMAZING!!"

She ended up giggling at him which made him smile more. "I guess so. But I do have one question. What made you want to ask me out?" He again tilted his head as she gestured to herself. "I don't really get asked out a lot, usually people aren't very interested in my .. strange looks."

"I LOVE HOW YOU LOOK!!" She blinked back to him as he gushed. "You look so pretty!! And you're so nice to me! I like that!"

....Fae blinked. "You mean.." Her brow raised. "You .. Don't think my hair being white is weird? Or makes me look weird?" He shook his head. "Really?"

"Really! I've seen much, much, MUCH weirder things! And as a human you look so normal to me!"

As a human? Strange way of putting it but still..the message was so...nice. She hadn't ever heard someone else be so..Normal about her strange looks or the nearly constant eye bags she had. That was...so nice of him. 

"That... might've been the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

He blinked. "Really? I'm so happy to be the first one to say that!"

"Yeah..Um." she shook her head bashfully looking away. "So what exactly did you wanna do after this?"

He again seemed to think for a moment. "....I like TV! You like movies! Ms. Ivy once told me the library lets you have movies! Let's get some and watch them together!"

Fae's smile grew wider. "Y-Yeah! That's not a bad idea! I can introduce you to Snore too! You'll love my bunny! He's like super friendly!"

"I'D LOVE TO!!"

The rest of the day was so, so happy! She never felt so...heard out by someone before. It was nice to have someone who actually listened to what she had to say. They took that trip to the Library and got those movies. Although she had him pick out a few too. It wouldn't be fair if she picked all of them. He picked up a documentary on...rodents? And some cartoon of a cooking rat? Well different people had different likes. However there was one weird thing that happened when she lead him to her apartment. Smore had initially hoped up to said door, but had taken one look at John, squeaked out in terror, before running his way up the stairs back towards the second floor of the apartment. 

"Smore!? Hey, wait!...That was so weird. Usually he's really friendly." She turned back to John who blinked. "I guess he's just skittish being in a new place. I'll just go get some snacks. Why don't you just go ahead and put in one of the movies?" She gestured to the TV. 

He happily nodded and made his way over towards it as Fae smiled and went into the kitchen. She remembered she bought chips and stuffed them on top of the fridge. As she walked in a foul rotting smell instantly hit her making her recoil and stumble back. A hand quickly flew to her mouth and she nearly screamed when she looked around and saw the source of the smell on the floor. Some kind of.. rotten bloody meat mess was there on her floor.

"EW! What is that?! It smells so bad!" Oh gods she felt like she was going to vomit out the Burger she ate. "Oh gods. I think Im going to be sick."

UCK!! She..She must've accidentally left out some meat and forgotten about it and it went bad as a result. She coughed a few times covering her nose and stumbling to the cabinets for cleaning supplies. She needed to get it cleaned up first. It's amazing what some trash bags and bleach could do and after a while it was gone and all cleaned up. The smell faintly lingered in the air alongside the bleach but it was certainly better than what it was a few moments ago. Once done she was able to get the snacks and walk back into the living room where John was waiting for her. He smiled and patted the seat next to him and she smiled sitting down and handing him one of the bags of chips. Which he happily accepted it. The movie with the cooking rat was on and she relaxed back to watch it with him. This was nice. 

And it continued to be.

That date turned into agreeing to lunch next week. Which turned into going to the movie theater three days after that. Which turned into a movie marathon night a week after than. Which turned into a picnic two days later. He was honest and open and listened to her. It was...so refreshing! He was also so... Different. But in a way she loved. He seemed confused sometimes or didn't understand some things at first but that wasn't a deal breaker at all. He also seemed clingy and a bit too eager to hug and hold hands but she kept reinforcing her boundaries and he seemed to get it after awhile. Just resulting in holding hands and the occasional hugs or cuddling . It was..so nice. He was even nice enough to gift her something-

"This is for you!" She blinked as he held up an old slightly dirty glass cherry cola bottle. "You said you liked cherries!"

Fae blinked..but accepted it slowly with a smile. "Aw. How sweet. It looks pretty old too. Maybe an antique." She smiled wider holding it to herself. It'll be a cute little vase to put some fake flowers in after she cleaned it up a little bit. "And you remembered what I said I liked. That's so sweet of you."

She then leaned over and his eyes widened in awe as two soft lips pressed against his cheek. She smiled at him and watched as his hand slowly reached up to touch his cheek where she kissed him... Before breaking out into the biggest grin she'd ever seen on him and squealed out as he suddenly hugged her to him.

"I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU!!"

"You seem happy."

Fae blinked out of her day dream and blinked back to her cousin whom smiled knowingly at her. Rose had stopped by her work on her way to make a delivery and Fae had spaced out happily for a moment. Typical Fae.

"What's got you smiling like that?"

Fae blinked before smiling wider. "Oh nothing much. It just might be that...Well.." she suddenly smiled wider and gushed out. "I MET SOMEBODY!!"

Rose blinked before she too broke out in a large grin. "You're serious? Who?!'

"His name's John!," Fae explained with a smile, "We met on the bus! Oh Rose! He's perfect! He's so sweet and cute! And he listens to me all the time and so thoughtful! I've honestly never met anyone like him!"

"Hey! That's amazing news! I'm so happy for you! I'll have to stop by sometime and meet him myself just to see the man who's making my cousin smile like a clown on laughing gas."

She'd love to introduce her boyfriend to her family! But she'd ask him first to see if he was comfortable with the idea first. They were supposed to meet up again that Saturday so she'd ask him then. However an unexpected storm rolled in. Rain thundered out. Lightning clashed across the sky. And dark clouds the sky. She hoped John was doing ok. She know he said he didn't have a phone but she wished he could call her, even from payphone to cancel plans or at least let her know he was ok. She's been waiting for nearly two hours now on the sofa waiting for John. She certainly hoped he wasn't caught up in the storm. Maybe he was just running late? Smore wasn't helping at all just cowering upstairs. ...Funny. He did that whenever John was around too which was strange. He was usually so friendly to everyone he met- She was pulled out of her thoughts as a soft knocking sound came from the door making her instantly look up. She barely heard it from over the ran and thunder.

"John!"

She lit up immediately and bounded to the door throwing it open only to see... Nothing? She blinked as nothing but the inside of her building met her. Dark but lit up whe

never lightning struck out lightning it all up briefly. But...no one was there? Was she just hearing things? Fae flinched when a loud prr like sound came from by her feet making her look down.

And she shrieked as a giant single eyeball blinked up at her.