#that full color doodle on the first page is genuinely one of my favorite drawings I’ve ever done

[banditblvd]

William and the will o’ wisps make me incredibly happy

He’s like a tired cat owner

[orchid-prince]

My 1st Year of Drawing through Fanart

I really started in July, so it’s not a full year, but taking a look back at where I started in 2024 is pretty cool! Checking for improvement, noticing where I was struggling. I can even see what skill I was trying to pick up at the time based on the jump in the skills quality/the lack of focus on others. So before the year ends here is:

✨My First Year Trying to do Art✨ through the fanart I’ve made! Enjoy!! <3

Would you believe it took me 3 tries to get freaking BILL CYPHER right ?!? This is V2 actually but it’s a good indicator of where I was starting.

This was the first day I decided drawing was fun for me. I woke up, and immediately picked up my pencil to spend all morning drawing, without truly realizing it. Keep in mind I didn’t even have a pencil to draw with before this session, the other work in this notebook are, like, all pen.

🎀My baby spinel!!!🎀 I adore her🥰

Is the art good, not really, but you can tell who she is and at this point that’s kinda my only goal. If it looks like ‘em it’s close enough for me.

Side note: This is the piece that instilled the fear I will mess up any nice sketch by coloring it, a fear I still have to this day.

She may look decent here but in my sketchbook she’s ruined foreverrrr XD

Ok…maybe there’s a pattern with the kinda characters I’m compelled to draw.

Aaaanyway this is where I started focusing on hair more, the spikey look was my thing in the beginning while I was still trying to figure out how hair works. Lowkey I’m still trying to figure it out.

Also WHY DID I DRAW THE EAR LIKE THAT?!? What was I even going for 💀

Fun fact: Daria is my benchmark for progress! She’s been my favorite character since I was a teenager & she’s made of pretty simple shapes. I imagine when I get more confident I’ll take more liberties with how I draw her, like Jane, instead of trying to make it a one to one mimick.

Also bonus Sir Integra Hellsing, she was my first attempt to an actual anime style especially in the hair. And similarly to jinx you can tell this was more focused on learning on drawing her hair rather than her face. This was a trend for a few weeks which did come back to bite me in the ass with this next piece

Ya know what I didn’t see a theme with the characters I draw before I started making this post, and now I definitely do.

But OH you can SEE my struggle with her on the page🤦🏾‍♀️! This genuinely took me 2 days to do because her face frustrated me so much I rage quit till the next night.

After this I went back to practicing eyes and finally trying finding out how to draw mouths and lips in different ways and positions to avoid this problem (Didn’t work, I still often refuse to draw a face if the hair/body is pretty)

And to top it off I inked it & accidentally made her lids look like eyebrows, so now I have a fear of inking 🙄 Thanks Catra >.>

Now THIS is where I actually started staring at my hands for a good 30 seconds after drawing like “MY HANDS MANAGED TO MAKE THIS??” Because this was only 6 DAYS after I rage quit on Catra. Yet I can make this?!!? What?!?

This was genuinely just supposed to be a doodle to practice using his big ol’ grin to learn how mouths work cuz he’s all mouth and teeth. But lowkey, still have no idea how this and the next one happened. It was a weirdly good art-day for me but I had never been more proud. And shockingly I’m still really happy with how these came out, usually I get pretty ‘Meh’ on my favorites after a while. Maybe even kinda nitpicky, but these two feel like my magnum opus for the year.

^^Look at this!! If I could inject this I would! Angel Dust with Pinchers is the BEST version. I will not take criticism.

This, similar to Fizz, was mostly for his eyes and to try to get the flow of hair and fluff down.

By this point I discovered if I find which of my favorite character has a design quality that is unique that correlates to the skill, I can trick my brain into picking up the skill through hyperfixations and sheer force of will.

Aaand welcome to Valentine fails to figure out expressions and head positions, ;-; someone give me back my 3/4 front facing view cuz obviously I can’t do anything else.

This was the most low effort fanart but Marcy became a pretty easy character to draw by this point so I attempted a spooky vibe to try something new. Unfortunately they all just look traumatized, yet that kinda works for her character.

This is the point I started having a little problem, towards the end of October and beginning of November I screwed up.

I usually tried to draw every day if not every 2-4 days. Right before this I skipped over a week, for some reason tho that made me feel like my quality has begun slipping. Like if I don’t try to put lines to the page every day even if I’m just doing circles and not drawing anything productive I’m ginna lose all my progress and go back to square one. This Anya (from the game Mouthwash) is from my 4 inch doodle book I got to combat this problem.

While I’m not particularly proud of this one I will say if July Me saw this I think she’d be really proud and actually love it. So I chose to as well. Besides I adore that sweetheart Anya in any form she takes!

And last but never least: KEN TAKAKURA AKA OKARUN!!!

This is by far my favorite of my most recent drawings. Playing loosely with his shapes was pretty freeing, since I have a very stagnant idea of lines and forms, especially with hair, so getting to do Okarun was fun. His hair and collar felt very ‘scribbly’ to me which was actually fun because I wasn’t so focused on exact shapes how I usually am.

It’s not perfect (like those lopsided ears) and it’s not a direct mimick like Fizzarolli but I still really really like it.

If you go back and compare this one to even my first three I feel like I’ve gotten so much better in the last 6 months. It only makes me wanna keep trying!

***************

If you read all this, firstly thank you!!

Also keep drawing, draw every day you can. Or pick up the pencil right now and start, idc if you think it’s “bad” idc if you make 100 “bad drawings”. Art is first and foremost about having fun, feeling good while creating. Not just to get good at it, which ,not gonna lie, was my focus in the beginning. But what’s actually FEELS good in the moment is to finish up a picture and be like “WHOA I MADE that! It didn’t exist before, I made it exist!” Everyone deserves that feeling.

So pick up the pencil and get to it!

The world deserves to see what you can create <3

[itsmoonphobic]

Dream SMP characters and my interpretation of them:

-Techno: The smell of Dirt and soil,blood,wine and old books. Silk pillowcases,golden jewelry,mosaics,stained fingertips, grand staircases,scented candles,storyteller,lazy smiles, secretive,slow dancing,sad resting face,elegant language,cold weather,confident,doubts himself,philosophy, messy braids,glowdust flakes, poetry,graceful movements,neat and cursive handwriting, greek mythology, oriental music,pale skin,libraries,sarcasm, long-lasting friendships,quotes,frosted windows,layering clothes, know-it-all,rude but endearing,pile of papers,cherry blossoms,muted colors,overthinks everything,devotion,logical thinking,insomniac,scattered mind,castle walls,laid back,tired eyes,long debates,show over tell,lingering touches,rulebreaker, dirty palms,old movies freezing feet,old habits,late nights studying,early riser,skips meals,eye bags,tea with milk,velvet jackets,dimly lit by streetlights,ancient wood floors,flowy curtains,art museums, gravely morning voice,echos in the middle of nowhere,sleepy whispers,nostalgia everywhere,red lipstick stains,loves animal more than people,calm and quiet, healing stones,parked car conversations,sharp jaw,obsessed with memes,violins,doves, doves,floats instead of walks,unbroken promises,twisting and winding hair around fingers,nail biting, repeating phrases,mist secret scars,rumors,always wearing earphones,metaphorical, emotions fragile as a flower, speaks with his eyes,fluttery eyelashes,dog lover,forehead kisses,calligraphy,pretty knives,cares too much,lopsided grins,messy desks,talks for hours no,rolling his eyes all the time,powerful strides,wants to conquer the world,slender hands,good grades, dusty book covers,wax stamped envelopes,vintage mirrors

-Phil: The smell of cold air,pine trees and sandalwood.Dead birds and mothballs,stops on the sidewalk to make sure nobody is left behind,morning person,herbal teas,crows,eats breakfast outside,constellations,family portraits on walls, chirping and whistling,crime documentaries,cool father figure, graveyards,weeping angels,meteor shower,many friends but only a single close one,contagious laugh,fragile teacups,fog, early mornings,fuzzy blankets,springs of thyme,bare feet, empty streets,rosemary stems,flickering lanterns,burnt wood bowls,feather collector,antique silverware,a sky full of stars, skylights,torn pages,overstuffed bookshelves,makes you feel comfortable whenever you talk to him,organized,full of ideas, believes in magic,gives the best advice,lost in his own way, warm hugs,scrapbooks and bullet journals,old cars,soft features,daydreaming,bright eyes,getting lost in the woods,moonlight,self knitted sweaters, stargazing on tailgates,the universe,hand in hand with wandering hearts, garage sales,questioning life but feeling at peace,attic bedrooms and haylofts,pursuing science and desiring art, photo albums,hopeless romantic,dark chocolate,open windows and quirky morning rituals,actually knows what brunch is, succulents,a kind-hearted loner,free-spirit,plaid button-ups, always ready to let you rant,abandons projects quickly, complicated past,bold moves,goes with the flow,aims for things that seem unachievable,lives in extremes,knowing smiles,constantly busy with something new,soft touches,love at first sight,naps alot,subsequent tea stains,sparkly eyes, abandoned barns,handwritten notes,feather quills,fascination with the sky,whispering secrets to the wind,great with kids, takes a backpack everywhere,hugs trees,big winter coats,road trips,knows tons of medical info,bites his nails,comforting presence,lost souls,city lights from a high rise

-Wilbur: The smell of fire,smoke,caramel and coffee. Stands up for people who can't for themselves,emotional wreck,loves his family too much but still yells at them,soft turtlenecks,sits in different spots every time he eats dinner,chipped nailpolish, songwriter,probably depressed,wakes up in the middle of the night to write down random thoughts,heartbroken teenager songs,dark psychology and deep meanings,globes and maps, wants to travel and make lots of memories,curls of steam, earbuds in,spattered ink,good singer,keeps to himself,old music and dusty vinyl,the type of person that you could stare at for hours,loud laugh,ride or die,dreams about his future, believes in fresh starts and new beginnings, messy and tangled hair,summer nights,soft features,deep thinker and dimples, having crushes,musicals and theater, half finished diaries and laptop stickers,mixtapes,quirky love notes, secretly kinda insane,always ready for coffee,thrift shops, beachy waves, bonfires,probably drives too fast,cutoff jeans, cream and sugar,nude colors,always creating new problems for himself, fights for equality,long debates and tired eyes, tapping a rhythm and humming quietly,spends all his time on social media,beanie galore,trench coats,foggy glasses,cozy sweaters, dancing around his room to the Beatles,looking out the window when the sun is setting,birkenstocks,guitar strumming on a warm summer evening,bells and chimes,subtle sadness, the feeling of diving into a deep pool,perfect proportions,too many playlists,holding hands,pretty boy,sew on patches and bomber jackets,candid photos,warm sun on bare skin,dancing silhouettes on the sunsets,beach walks at midnight,messy but cozy room,different mood every minute,singing his favorite song at the top of his lungs,sharp grins,haunted houses, paranormal stuff,late night snack runs with friends,explores creeks and lakes,double checks everything he does,walking through hot sand,backyard campfires,acoustic songs,photo booths,train platforms at night,s'mores,sun bleached arbors

-Tommy: The smell of plastic,fresh cut grass and musk. Does the bare minimum at School,unless genuinely interested in a topic,doodles on the side of his paper,movie marathons,empty coca cola bottles everywhere,rope swings,glossy nailpolish,lots of energy,life of the party, kidcore ,can always make you laugh,loves photography,eyestrain and bright colors,bruised knees and untied shoelaces,paperballs in class,brand new red converse,denim jackets,pins and clips,chalk drawings in the middle of the road,every text contains emojis, garden sprinklers,graffiti,wreck this journal,vibrant dyed hair, scribbles and highlighter pens,carnivals,involed in many things, watermelon flavored anything,loves to climb trees,screaming on playgrounds,oversized t-shirts,stained glass windows, anklets,skateboards and hula hoops,milkshakes on the front porch,social butterfly,always in a hurry,pinkie promises,tangled headphones,melted crayons and gummy bears,bean bags and hummingbirds,spinning around till he gets dizzy,chaotic and crazy yet so fun to be around,rushing into things too quickly, roller coasters and derbies,doesn't get knocked back by criticism,cans of fizzy drinks and neon lights,skips school,tye dye shirts and nitendo games,impulse and class clown,sticks stickers on stranger's things,pickpockets his close friends,has to carry a walkie-talkie around with him at all times,sleepovers and sneaking out through windows,pockets full of change and random buttons,stands out in crowds and makes friends easily, pretends to be fearless but is scared of the littlest things,trips and rips his jeans daily,uno cards,social butterfly,music discs, fights with his family but would actually kill for them,broken handwriting,flannels and jerseys around his waist

-Tubbo: The smell of honey,fresh bread and citrus. Lowkey soft, hugging a teddy bear,pressed flowers,eats alot of bread,big hoodies,fairy lights and blanket forts,prank calls while holding in your laughter,beeswax candles,sidewalk dandelions,gentle cuddles on the couch,pastel yellow and cute doodles,flower crowns and diasy chains,plays the ukulele,fascinated by bees and supports local coffee shops,outdoorsy sunshine addict, sparklers and iced lemonade,festivals with fireworks and fireflies in mason jars,homework done as soon as its assigned, watercolor paintings,giggling uncontrollably,long hugs and lazy cartoon afternoons,park dates and forehead kisses,cutting pants into shorts,messy wild hair and pear lollipops,has tiny random braids decorated with golden yarn,hearing the crinkle of leaves underfoot,suprise piggy back rides,adult swim shows and lip gloss stains,being goofy without meaning to,bounces in his step and stops to pet stray animals,baked bread and washi tape bracelets,bike rides and summer picnics,rolling down a hill in the spring and bringing home grass stains on his jeans, waving at someone across a crowded room,spontaneous hang outs and self made clay rings,sitting in the warm sunlit grass on early spring mornings,rock painting and hiding them for other people to find,picking apples from trees but needing to be held up in order to reach one

-Ranboo: The smell of peppermint tea,denim and rain. Is there for everyone but never themselves,regrets things they said but can never find the nerves to apologize,clumps of mascara and winged eyeliner,writes down every tiny thing in notebooks, loves children and their friends,forgetting that they already grabbed a waterbottle,drawing on condensation windows,rainy days and puddles,always on the edge of a breakdown,elevator music and long limbs,old tape recordings and cassettes,moss covered ruins and greenhouses,wanting to be in multiple places at the same time,different colored socks,long hugs and head pats,reading under the covers,collages and spray paint,record players and walks alone through the woods,loves playing by creeks and collecting stones,always wondering and worrying about things they shouldn't,vivid dreams and leather jackets, silver necklaces and piercings,snoozing their alarm clock, seeing the moon in the early morning,blurry photographs and windswept hair,downpours and comfortable silence,wrapping gifts and handing them over with shaking hands,sitting on a rooftop and spontaneous plans,lofi sounds and long train roads,deja vu moments,randomly dissapears and sipping tea, cold concrete and city parks,tickets and brochures from places they visited,dusty parchment and desperately trying to be a good person,wikipedia articles and lace-up boots,often loses track of time while talking to people they love,sings to the radio and avoids conflict if possible,can't sit still for five minutes, perpetually in an emo phase and knows more than they let on, hawaiian shirts,henna tattoos and sparkling water,sleeping in complete darkness and the relief of falling into bed,midnight thunderstorms and anticipation for the coming day,lucky charms and the sound of rain hitting the windows

-Dream: The smell of apples,eucalyptus,vanilla and green tea. Freckles and smiley faces,glow sticks and wrinkled linen, probably a really good singer,wild laughter and jellyfish, popular,tanned skin and cruising with the top down,doesn't take shit from anyone,analytical and self assured,beachy waves and dreamy sunsets,running barefoot,likes being active and on the go at all times,sassy and dramatic as fuck,dream catchers and hammocks,glow in the dark stickers on his phonecase, feisty and a sense of danger,brought home stray cats when he was a child,falling in love with strangers,waking up early and continue laying on the bed,golden hours and 4pm naps,soft aching hands burried in messy hair,center of attention,static and heavy breathing,old percy jackson books under the bed, throwing pebbles at the closed windows of his friends' room, retro diners at 2am,adrenaline junkie and nighttime thriver,will go insane if cooped up indoors for too long,deadlines till last minute,oversleeping and coming home past midnight,naturally a really good surfer,hugs from behind and neck kisses,checking the fridge at 1am,ice cream in bed and cat cuddles,always picks up over facetime

Might make more parts for some of the other guys :)

[royalcordelia]

This Bed of Recall and Recollections (1/1)

Summary: Most of the time, it’s convenient to have your husband as your doctor, except for the times he condemns you bedrest. A very pregnant Anne decides to open her chest of old memories to pass her bedrest time. (A future shirbert drabble). 

Notes: Happy belated holidays @cresmix​! Here’s a little somethin’ somethin’ for you because you and your kind heart deserve it. This was a request that @shirberts-sherbert came up with, so thank you for the idea. (Also y’all follow me because I write well, not because I photoshop well, but I gave it 110%. Even if it does look a lil funky lmao). 

***

Anne knew there were bright sides to her current situation. The bed was impossibly soft underneath her, but stiff enough to support her weight against the headboard. She didn’t have to wear shoes in bed, either - an added plus. Just the thought of jamming her swollen toes into her dainty slippers as she had during the past several months had her cringing. 

You were given your imagination for times like these, she scolded herself. There are plenty of lovely things about being on bedrest. Why, I’ve had time to read all the books on my list, and then some! A bitter voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she’d read all the books on her list already - twice, some of them three times! Gilbert promised to bring home some new reading material soon, but he’d been so busy at his medical practice, that she’d long since stopped asking if he bore her any surprises. 

Now there’s a bright side worth thanking the Lord for, she decided. Not every woman, exhausted with the many weights of pregnancy, got to have her husband as her doctor. Anne argued that Gilbert was better attuned to her symptoms than any of his patients. Perks of sharing a bed with him, she supposed. There was no husband around with more compassion and love for his ever-glowing wife, even with the unpleasant oddities it brought to their relationship. 

But it also meant that when her blood pressure had spiked to dangerous heights, Gilbert had said with very firm stringency that Anne S. C. Blythe - Queen of Conquering Obstacles and Goddess of Fortitude - was condemned to bedrest. At least until the new member of the house arrived. When the decree had been made, Anne was wise enough not to argue. 

“Every time a man speaks like he’s got a sour cranberry on his tongue, it means he means business,” said Susan, their beloved housekeeper, to Mrs. Doctor Dear later that night. “And that you may tie to.” 

Anne knew her husband better than that, though. Gilbert’s word, of course, did mean business, but she knew that a tiny part of him still held onto a poisonous drop of guilt. Susan might have claimed to know the Doctor better than most, but Anne was the one that Gilbert laid his head upon, weeping into her chest that it was his fault their first baby had died. If I had just paid better attention...There must have been something I missed. How could I? My own daughter? Not even Anne’s softest touches through his hair or the honesty of her own unnecessary forgiveness could take away all of his remorse. When she’d informed him of their second chance, he’d been even more attentive than he’d been the first time. 

Thus, Anne was growing into a prisoner in her own bed. Her loving, caring husband, her jailor. 

With a sigh, Anne turned her gaze toward the window. Her soul sighed. It was golden hour, the most beloved time of day, when the PEI sun took a few moments out of its busy day to say hello to her. It always looked so sweet over the garden, the early spring buds glistening as if they had been touched by Midas himself. Against the bedposts, Anne tried to imagine the soft moss underneath her fingers or the richness of the soil of her flowers, but the mental image fell flat. 

Her window, though...Her window was only a few feet away from the bed. If she could just take a glimpse at the garden, maybe her heart wouldn’t feel so starved. 

The coolness of the floor felt wonderful underneath her heat swollen feet. With a careful hand behind supporting her back, Anne gently rose up for the first time in days. Her vision swirled, but she ignored the momentary vertigo and began to creep forward with astonishing stealth. If Susan heard her up on her feet, there’d be hell to pay, especially when Gilbert got home. Just as Anne was able to take a self-indulgent glance at her garden, a familiar voice broke through the bird-song silence. 

“Sweetheart, what on earth are you doing up?” 

Anne jolted, and she staggered like a drunken fool for balance. Gilbert was at her side before she could see him fly over to her, one hand in hers to keep her steady, the other against her back. She could sense a scolding on the tip of his tongue, but he bit his lips against it as he guided her back to bed. Settling at the edge of the bed together, Gilbert rubbed her knuckles with a tender touch. 

He could’ve begun his love-driven admonishment, but instead, he said, “A parcel came from Green Gables today. I stopped in town to pick it up.” 

Just the mention of home was enough for some of the weight on her shoulders to dissipate. Her gaze drifted from the wrapped box at the end of the bed back up to the hazel warmth of Gilbert’s eyes. He gave her his daily “ I’m home” kiss and helped her shift back into her perch on the bed against the headboard. 

“I know that bedrest isn’t the most stimulating activity in the world, so I asked Marilla to send this,” Gilbert continued, placing the parcel in her lap. 

“What is it?” Anne asked, though she had already started tearing the brown paper away. She gasped when she found the wooden box underneath, fingers grazing over the grained smoothness. “It’s the box I kept when we were in college.” 

“I remembered you had a memory box, but you never told me what was in it. I hoped whatever was inside, it could be enough to convince you to sit in bed.”

Anne lifted the lid away and the contents of box overflowed onto her lap. 

“It’s so full because I kept every single letter you sent me over four years. But there’s some sketches from when I asked Cole to teach me how to draw. Oh, and look, a few pictures too.” 

Gilbert settled at her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

���If it’s every letter I sent you in college, that’s more reading than all of the Jane Austen books put together. We better start now if we want to finish by the time our new gentleman arrives.” 

Right on time, Susan rapped against the door with her elbow, a tray of tea and biscuits in her hands. 

“I put the tea on the stove as soon as the doctor came home. These are the last of the biscuits you like, Mrs. Doctor, but I’m baking more tomorrow. And there’s a piece of my cherry pie for you, Dr. Dear.” 

Anne grabbed Susan’s hand before she could walk away, and pressed a firm kiss to it. 

“You’re a blessing untold, Susan, thank you.” 

When they were alone again, Anne grabbed the first thing she could find: a letter. The bluish hue of the envelope and the familiar scrawl told her what she already knew. This letter had been one of the later ones she’d received during their fourth year of college. The blue envelopes had been Gilbert’s way of trying out professional stationary, and each letter was monogrammed at the top with the initials GJB. As for the nearly illegible scrawl of her name and address, that was a bad habit he’d picked up from his medical professors. 

“When did I send that one?” he asked, peeking over from his own reading. 

“The April of 1904. I remember it without even needing to check.” 

It took a moment, but Gilbert suddenly remembered what the letter said. He could picture exactly what his desk and room looked like the day he wrote it with the clarity of a photograph. Long lost in fireplace ash, there were several burned attempts that had come before the finished product that Anne know held in her hands. 

“This is a question I had every intention of asking in person, but I find my patience has evaporated with the months our of separation,” Anne read softly. “Say that there was a velvet pouch in my pocket. Say that it contained a peridot ring that my mother once bore on her own hand. (Breathe, darling, I’m not proposing over correspondence. What I mean to ask is - ) Would you find yourself open to the idea of wearing it in the foreseeable future? If there was a fellow who had a question to ask - a plead, a beg really - would you be ready to answer the next time you saw him?” 

The ring of his tender descriptions now rested on Anne’s hand, a little tight with her swollen fingers, but still glistening and lovely just the same. Gilbert took the hand and pressed a kiss to the stone that his father had chosen for his mother, the same stone that was a perfect green on his redheaded wife.

“Do you remember what I replied?” she asked, nuzzling her cheek against his touch. 

“Not exactly,” Gilbert admitted with a fond smile. “I think as soon as I read your response, my entire brain stopped functioning and I all but floated around Toronto for the next month.” 

Her shoulders shook against him as she chuckled. 

“What’s that you’re looking at?” Gilbert revealed the journal that had been placed in his lap. Its leather was the same color as Anne’s girlhood horse, Belle and was tied around the middle with a strap. “Ah, the proof of my stint with art.” 

“You were genuinely talented!” Gilbert argued. To prove his point, he flipped open the sketchbook to one of the middle pages. “This one is my favorite.” 

Of course it was, she thought with an amused smirk. He had skipped over the pages where she’d sketched pink carnations - briefly wondering if he recognized they were the ones he’d brought her during one of his visits - and focused on the page where Anne had drawn one of the Blythe-Lacroix apples. 

“Anne Blythe, Gilbert S. C. Blythe…” he read with interest. “If I didn’t know better, Mrs. Blythe, I’d say you were in love with me!” 

“Oh, be quiet. If I didn’t doodle my feelings like an infatuated schoolgirl, I’d have dropped out of Queen’s and transferred to Toronto.” 

“You wouldn’t have found arguments from me,” Gilbert said with a shrug. 

Anne nudged him with her elbow, but kept flipping through the box with interest. Mostly, she found letters. To his delight, it seemed that not a single one had been lost over time. Each one was a treasure, and she’d treated them as such. Some of his more romantic ones appeared to have more wear, as if she’d found them in her hours of loneliness and reread the words in his voice. There were tear smudges, small rips in the corners, memories of smiles, and residual pining that never actually went away. Some of Gilbert’s later letters admitted the way he’d desired her, craved her touch and counted the days before he could love her in the ways he was meant to as a man. It made Anne glad that Marilla had always respected her privacy. If Rachel Lynde had read those letters and found Gilbert Blythe longing to kiss the soft skin of Anne’s breast, she likely would’ve shipped the young girl to France or England herself. 

Lost in her amusement, Anne almost didn’t hear Gilbert sigh beside her. He held an old photograph in his hands, one that she groaned at the sight of. She’d sat for several portraits during her lifetime, but never before did she feel as unattractive as she did in the one he held.

“I ought to have just thrown that in the fire,” she commented. He gaped at her in surprise. 

“What do you mean? Why have I never seen this one?!” he exclaimed. His eyes roved over the picture, and suddenly he felt like the eighteen-year-old boy losing his breath at the sight of her. In the portrait, Anne wore a demure, neutral smile on her lips and wine red blossoms behind her ear. And her hair ...Gilbert suspected that if Aphrodite or Hera were really out there, they envied the ocean waves of her auburn hair. “Anne, this is breathtaking.” 

Anne paused before finally answering in a rush. “I originally planned to send it to you because you’d been asking for one, and I know how much you like my red hair so I asked the man to hand color for me.” 

“I think he did a fine job!” Gilbert added, still confused. 

“He did a fine job commenting on my hair, too,” Anne stated bitterly. “He said he never saw such salmon hair in all his years. Salmon, Gilbert. There was no way I could send the picture after that.”

Gilbert laughed heartily at this, shaking his head at the stubborn rage of his beautiful, impeccable wife. 

“Well, darling, what’s mine is yours, and what’s yours…” He snatched the picture from her hands and stuffed it inside his jacket pocket. “Is mine! I’ll be holding onto this in my own memory box.” 

Anne might’ve argued, but he rose from the bed with a kiss to her forehead. In any other circumstances, she would have followed him until she could reclaim what was hers, but that would’ve involved rising like Christ from her bed. If she owed her husband anything after all the years he’d stayed loyal through her stubbornness and her flares of anger, it was to heed his word and remain in bed. 

Still, with him gone, she missed his warmth and wondered if she might convince him to sit beside her just a little longer.

“You need to eat, my love,” he concluded. “I’m going to go help Susan with dinner. Drink some tea, alright? You need to be sure you’re drinking enough fluids.” 

“I’m hydrating for two, I know.” 

Right before he disappeared out of the room, he let his eyes linger on her - the loveliness of her white bed gown, the sunlight on her hair, the loving glint in her warm blue gaze. He could taste the words on the tip of his tongue, hundreds of I love yous that he could mutter with all the breath in his lungs. Instead, he exhaled a shaky breath and said, “Let me know if you find anything else of interest.” 

Anne nodded with a smile, finally looking the most comfortable she’d been in days. She reached back down to the very bottom of the box and pulled out the oldest letter she it contained. 

“My Anne, I cannot think of a more wonderful way to start a letter…”

[zodiyack]

Billy Hargrove VS The World

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader Scott Pilgrim Vs The World AU (See note!)

Warnings: 7 exes that would love to kill Billy, violence, swearing, soft!Billy, I guess two sexual references since it’s Billy we’re talking about, smut mention but no smut, making out, SPOLIERS!, and cheesy pirate Patel

Words: 4947

Note: This is a Scott Pilgrim Vs The World AU because I love that movie and it would be interesting to write an AU involving that. Also this is a multiple part story due to all 7 exes and the battles. One ex per post! (maybe) I’m sorry for the unoriginal title lmao

By the way, yes. There is dialogue from the movie. That is in and going to be in this miniseries. As I said, I love this movie and I think most of the dialogue was funny, plus it is semi important to the story. And the exes are the same people from the movie. Sorry if you don’t like that.

o/o/y/f/c = One of Your Favorite Color(s)

Bold = Words From The Movie (that appear on the screen, if you’ve watched it, then you know what I’m talking about)

Italics with apostrophes = Billy’s thoughts (and Matthew’s thoughts but only once)

Italic = Used for a few different things, mainly enthusiasm/emphasis on words

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

link to the soundtrack on youtube ‘cause why not (a few will be in here I guess)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5 and 6. Part 7.

“Look.”

Tommy pointed to the new girl. Finally, some fresh meat for Billy. Or Tommy, whichever one thought of her first. Billy finally grew bored of the girls at school, he waited for one that was newer. Fresher. Cuter.

There she was. Her unnatural o/o/y/f/c hair sat on her shoulders. Roller-blades on her feet, her torso clothed in a shirt covered with a hoodie and another jacket. Her bag hung by her side, headphone strings leaving it and connecting to the headphones on her head. She didn’t look like most girls. Billy had seen most of them, and none had looked as breathtaking nor interesting as her. Before either teens could walk over to her, a boy around their age walked in front of them. She was gone when he moved.

“Weird...”

“I hear she’ll be at Tina’s party tonight.” Carol noticed the boy’s fascination with the new kid, sharing it. “We should go, it’ll give you the chance to learn more about her, Billy.”

“We’ll see.” He brushed off his thoughts about the odd girl, her choice of hair color and clothing, and her headphones that caused her mental absence from the world. Billy turned and walked away, continuing with the rest of his day.

. . .

Billy was stopped by Tina. She asked him how the party was going and if he needed anything.

“Hey Tina, you know everyone, right?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” She let out a small laugh. Billy didn’t know whether it was fake or genuine.

“Do you know this one girl with hair...” He grabbed a pen the same color as the new girl’s hair color, quickly drawing a horrible doodle of the girl’s hair. “Like this?”

“Yes, that’s Y/n L/n.” Tina took a sip of her drink, “Someone said she was gonna be here tonight actually.”

Billy’s hand that held the drawing went down quickly, his head snapping to the side and his eyes searching for Y/n. “What?”

“Oh Billy, you got the hots for her or something? I’ve gotta tell you though, I hear she’s a little hardcore-” Tina had looked down mid-sentence and when she looked back up Billy was gone. She turned her head with confusion.

Meanwhile, Billy was now walking through the crowd in search of his unique looking crush. His eyes and head shifted when he couldn’t see her, switching from left and right with each step he took. He didn’t blink, afraid that he’d miss her if he did. After many turns of his head and movements of his eyes, he finally spotted her. His hand clenched the red solo cup, squeezing it until it was crumpled and disfigured.

He slid along the wall, stopping when his body was right next to hers. He faced her, his body turned slightly so that she knew she had his full attention.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She turned her head to him for a second, facing forwards again and replying with, “Nothing.” before taking a sip from her cup.

“Hey you know swimming?”

“I know of it.” She took another sip, still not facing him.

He rambled on about the breast stroke and how he could teach her. Billy took notice of her silence, looking up to see that she was facing him with no emotion visible. 

“That’s amazing.” Her reply was just as her face was; emotionless and dull.

“Uhm...” He looked down. No girl could make Billy nervous. By now, he’d have them a blushing mess, begging for him to do whatever he’d like. So now that the new girl, on the first day she’d ever met him, just somehow managed to make him regret every word he said, he thought he’d gone soft. “Am I dreaming?” Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion and another emotion Billy couldn’t quite think of. However, it was enough to make him regret speaking once more. “I’ll leave you alone forever now...”

“Thanks.”

And Then

He Stalked Her

Until She

Left

The Party

“Dude!”

He grabbed Tommy’s shoulder, spinning him around.

“What?”

“She’s totally real!”

“Who?”

“Y/n L/n.” His gaze went elsewhere. Billy then speeded off to find Tina. “Dude!” She made a face at Billy’s sudden approach, but let him speak. “What do you know about Y/n L/n?”

“All I know is that she’s (ethnicity).”

His sudden dramatic and demanding of knowledge persona swapped to dreamy, just as it had when he said her name to Tommy. “(ethnicity)...”

“Why don’t you go talk to Sandra and Monique, they know more about her.” Tina’s head nodded to two blond women laughing in a doorway. Billy rushed to them.

“Lady-dudes. What do you know about Y/n L/n?”

Sandra spoke up first, “I heard she has a boyfriend.” Monique confirmed her knowledge, “Mhm, yes. Left him back in New York.”

Billy felt a bit annoyed, but still wanted to know more. “Yeah yeah yeah...What else?”

He asked other people, earning all kinds of different responses.

“I heard she kicks all kinds of ass.”

“She’s on...another level!”

“She has men dying at her feet!”

“She’s got some battle scars dude.”

“What about Y/n L/n?!” Robin asked, semi full of annoyance for her old friend.

“You know her? Tell me now.”

“She just moved here, got a job at the mall, comes into my work.”

“Does she really?” His tone was dreamy again.

A girl put her arm around Robin, “didn’t you say she just broke up with someone?”

“Did she really?”

“They had uh...huge fight or whatever?”

“Did they really?”

Robin slapped the other girl’s arm off of her. “Yes! But I didn’t want Billy to know that, Kate!”

“Yeah...I don’t know what it is about that girl-”

“Billy, I forbid you from hitting on Y/n! Even if you haven’t had a real girlfriend in over a year or whatever.”

Billy’s daydreaming halted to a stop. He let out a scoff and turned away.

“Hey, woah woah woah, my man Billy’s got all kinds of girls...he’s totally getting with an older girl sometime, right?” Tommy couldn’t keep his big mouth shut, as usual.

“Getting with an older girl or multiple girls is not having a real girlfriend.”

“She’s got a point.” Kate wrapped her arm around Robin again.

“I thought you guys weren’t friends anymore?”

Robin slapped away Kate again. “I don’t want you scaring off one of my old friends now that she’s in town, Billy. We all know you’re a lady-killer-wannabe-jerky-jerk.”

“That’s completely untrue.”

“That time with Lisa?”

“That was a misunderstanding.”

“That time with Holly?”

“That wasn’t what it looked like.”

“That time you dumped Faith for-”

“Okay me and Faith are all good now, right?” He turned to where the girl Robin had mentioned stood. Her cup was in her hands and her face was blank with wide eyes. She looked traumatized. Billy turned back to Robin.

“Whatever! Y/n’s just out of your league, let’s just leave it at that. Besides, I’m not even sure she had a big break up. She keeps mentioning some guy named Gideon.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is about that girl-”

“FORGET IT BILLY!”

. . .

“What’s this?”

“I don’t know, it’s a letter for you dumbass. Read it.”

Billy grunted and took the letter from his father, tearing it open and allowing his eyes to scan the page slowly. He mumbled the words as he read them. It was only Max and him in the room, so it couldn’t do much harm. “Dear Mr. Hargrove, it has come to my attention that we will be fighting soon. My name is Matthew Patel and blah blah blah blah...fair warning, mono e mono, 7 evil blah blah... This is... This is... This is-”

Max grew annoyed with her older brother. “What?!?”

“This is borrrinnnggg. Get rid of thisss.” He threw the letter into the recycling and walked up the stairs to his room. “Hey Max?” For once, he didn’t care about being an ass to the redheaded girl. He had a plan, and he needed her as an excuse to leave the house.

“What is it?”

“Wanna go to the mall?”

“For real?” Of course, he couldn’t tell her. “Let me get my wallet and I’ll meet you in the car!”

. . .

“Hello. Robin tells me you ordered this ice cream but left before she could give it to you, so here.” The ice cream that she handed him was indeed abandoned when he heard Steve say that Y/n was in the mall and would be hanging around Scoops soon. “You gonna take it? Ooor-”

“Hi, I was thinking about asking you out but then I realized how stupid that would be...so do you wanna go out sometime?”

“Um no, that’s okay. You can just pay for this, alright?”

“You don’t remember me, do you? We met at the party the other day.”

“Were you the swim guy?”

“Nooooooooo, not even. That was some total ass...I was the...other guy.”

“You know you need to take this and pay for it?”

“But if I do, you’ll leave.”

“Yeah. It’s how it works.”

“Okay well maybe, do you wanna hang out sometime? Get to know each other? You’re the new kid on the block...right, I’ve lived here...for a while so there are reasons...for you to hang out with me.”

A short pause was shared between the two. Y/n’s eyes glanced up to Billy’s with an eyebrow raised. He didn’t know why he felt desperate, but this girl was making him feel different.

“You want me to hang out with you?”

“Um...” He looked down shyly, but quickly looked back up to her face. “Yeah, if that’s cool...” His tough demeanor seemed to flee whenever she was present.

“If I say yes, will you take and pay for your damn ice cream?”

He snatched the ice cream from her and tossed it over his shoulder and into the garbage can behind him effortlessly, taking out the money needed and handing it to her. “So yeah, eight o’clock?”

So Yeah ( . . . )

“Why’re you just standing there?”

“Dude, I’m totally waiting on you.” Y/n turned to Billy, her hands tucked into the pockets of her hoodie. Billy didn’t know whether she looked offended or confused.

“Oh...I’m sorry, I just assumed you were too cool to be here on time...” In other words, he assumed she was like him. If you were at Tina’s party, then you were bound to be somewhat of a “cool kid” or a rebel or anything remotely relating to popularity. Then again, Tina loved handing out invites.

“Well. You assumed wrong.”

They walked in the chilly weather. Small talk slowly formed and they tried their best to get to know each other just as Billy had suggested. His nervousness didn’t leave him around her, and he was glad that no one else from school was there to see him make a fool of himself. ‘You’re just gonna get lucky and then leave her like the rest of them.’ No matter how many times he told himself that, he was too interested in Y/n. His felt something he wasn’t sure he had ever actually felt.

“So, how’d you end up in Hawkins?” Crap. He wasn’t even sure he could get to like him. Let alone be his snack of the week.

“Just needed to escape I guess...”

“Oh yeah.” He knew exactly how she felt. Or at least what he thought she meant by it.

“I got this job here and Gideon always said Hawkins was one of the cool places, so.”

Now Billy felt the need to ask the question that had been bugging him since Robin brought it up. “Is Gideon...your boyfriend?” It had been bothering him and filling him with a small amount of disappointment and worry.

“He’s...a friend.” Her gaze strayed away.

“Was he your boyfriend?”

She looked hurt. Hurt and uncomfortable. “Do you mind if I don’t get into that right now?” Y/n turned and walked to the swing set in front of them.

“Uh- it’s so not interesting to me...” 

Y/n kept walking, Billy joining her and attempting to not bother her any more than he had already done. She took notice and initiated conversation so that he wouldn’t feel as awkward and guilty, “What about you, what do you do?”

“Oh, I’m in between jobs at the moment.”

“Between what and what?” She moved in front of the swing and sat down as Billy started talking. He did the same but his movements were still shy and cautious.

“Well my last job was...a long story, filled with sighs.”

“I know plenty of those.” Billy took the opportunity to check on Y/n. His face slowly looked over to hers, which was looking up and admiring the sky.

“Is that why you left New York?” 

She looked in front of her, furrowing her eyebrows and nodding, “Pretty much. Just time to head somewhere a little more chilled.”

A cold breeze swept past the two. It was incredible timing.

“Well it’s certainly chilled here!” The wind gave Billy the perfect opportunity to try and lift the mood. A smile rested on his face, his joke seemed like one of the funniest things in the world seeing as Y/n had that same smile.

“Yeah...”

“It’s chilled as in cold...” Oh no. ‘Why the fuck am I so awkward?”

“Yeah.” ‘Oh dear god she noticed.’

The two decided to swing a bit more. With the conversation at a pause, that was honestly probably needed, Y/n and Billy swung their legs back and forth. competition started. They both tried to see who could go higher, Y/n won and smiled slightly while Billy smiled and chuckled with accepting defeat.

After they finished their fun, Billy and Y/n hopped off the swings for a finale. They continued their conversation afterwards, light droplets of rain mixed with small snowflakes falling over their heads.

“It’s ridiculous. Isn’t it like September?”

“No...but it doesn’t snow much in Indiana...ya know, I can barely see you?” His leather jacket was suddenly not projecting as much warmth as he normally would have anticipated. “This whole thing is an unmitigated disaster.”

“I think ‘Act Of God’ is a pretty decent excuse for a lousy date.”

Billy stopped in his tracks. A sneaky signature smirk crept onto his face and his usual attitude made an appearance. “So this a date, eh?”

She stopped as well and turned. “Did I say date?” He nodded. “Slip of the tongue.”

“Tongue.”

“Anyway, nights not over yet...” She turned back to where they were originally facing, “and there’s a thingy over here somewhere.”

“Thingy?”

Once again, she turned her head towards him. “A door.” She turned it back, yet again, but this time there was a door in front of them. Odd. She nodded her head over to it in a beckoning way. “Come on.”

Billy took her hand and was dragged by her over to the mysterious door.

Y/n Come Closer ( . . . )

Y/n took off her shoes and looked up at Billy. He sat at her dining room table, staring at her with awe and adoration. Y/n broke the silence and walked over to her cupboard. “What kind of tea do you want?”

He didn’t know why he took his jacket off. His arms were cradling themselves as one would when they were cold. And he was cold. “There’s more than one kind?”

She opened the cupboard. “We have,” she inhaled. “Blueberry, raspberry, ginseng, sleepytime, green tea, green tea with lemon, green tea with lemon and honey, liver disaster, ginger with honey, ginger without honey, vanilla almond, white truffle, blueberry caramel, vanilla walnut, constant comment annnnnd...earl gray.”

When her sentence was finished, Y/n turned to face a wide eyed Billy. “Did you make some of those up?”

She reached into the cupboard and pulled out a box, “I think I’ll have sleepytime.”

“That sounds good to me...”

She made the tea and set it on the table. Billy’s position didn’t go unnoticed by her, “Want me to get you a blanket?” Her eyebrows were raised with amusement.

“That would actually be...awesome.”

Y/n walked away into her room. A few minutes passed. More minutes. Billy was almost done with his tea. He wondered where she went. He wondered why she was taking so long. Billy decided to go into her room and check on her, making a grunt-like wheeze.

Facing her closet, she was taking off her shirt. Upon hearing him, she turned and raised her arms. “Dude I’m changing.” She didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he just walked in on her while he bra was the only thing covering her chest. 

Billy let out a small, “Ah, sorry!” and covered his eyes. “I’m just cold...”

“Here. That help?”

“Yeah...that’s very warm...What is that?” His hands slowly left his face. “Oh- kaaay...” Y/n was standing right in front of him with a cheeky grin on her lips. He leaned in and kissed her. It was finally happening. Their lips danced together, it felt like they had rehearsed the dance for so long yet in reality they were very new to each other.

The make out session with Y/n was all it took to break Billy. He was in love and he couldn’t deny it. As their passion turned rough and intense, he thought of how happy he felt and how he wouldn’t normally feel that with a girl.

They finally pulled away. Billy’s arms were around Y/n and one of her hands was on his shoulder, her arms laying loosely, and her other was clutching his side under his arm.

“Were you just gonna...bring the blanket from your bed?”

“I guess...” Her voice was soft, unlike her previous dead tone. Billy managed to shatter her “hardcore” exterior with a simple make out session. Or so he thought, if you asked anyone what they thought, they’d say Y/n managed to break him within their first conversation and then decided to let him in after touching her lips to his.

“Maybe we should...both get under it...since we’re both so cold...”

“What about our tea?”

Of course. The tea. Billy didn’t give a fuck about the tea. “I can...not have tea.”

The night went on with passion and...lust. They stripped down to their underwear and continued making out on Y/n’s bed. At some point they got under the blankets and Y/n leaned over Billy to continue their rough kissing. When it was “just about to get good”, Y/n pulled away from Billy.

“I changed my mind.”

“...changed it from what?”

“I don’t want to have sex with you Hargrove.” She moved over beside Billy, laying on his arm and snuggling into his side. “Not right now.”

Another, “Oooh- kay?” escaped Billy’s mouth. As usual, he didn’t know if he should feel hurt, angered or just plain okay with it. He longed for Y/n. She was his addiction, better than any drug. In his mind, he made the exception; feel bad about it later, stay with her for now.

“It’s not like I’m gonna send you home in this weather or anything, you can sleep in my bed. And I reserve the right to change my mind about the sex later.” At least he had a chance.

“This is...nice. Just this...” He was referencing their semi-cuddling forms. “It’s been like, a really long time so I think I needed this...whatever it is so...thank you.”

Y/n leaned over and kissed his cheek, “You’re welcome.” He wrapped his arms around her when she wrapped one of her arms around his neck.

. . .

Billy and his basketball team were just having some harmless fun. It was a game, and school was out for the day. No one could do anything bad, right? Wrong.

Read to show off, Billy brought the new girl to the gym. Max was dragged along since Billy was her ride home. He and his team were horribly distracted by the pretty girl now known as Billy’s first official girlfriend. Scowls and mean looks were given to Y/n by the other girls at school, purely out of jealousy. This morning, Y/n was walked down the hall of Hawkins’ high under Billy’s arm, wolf whistles and more sounded around them.

A weird looking guy stormed into the room, “MR. HARGROVE. IT IS I, MATTHEW PATEL. CONSIDER OUR FIGHT,” Y/n looked horrified. She was pale and breathing unsteadily. The guy who had announced himself to be Matthew moved his head slightly, nodding his hair out of his face. “BEGUN!”

He ran at Billy. ‘What is this kid on?’ Time felt like it was moving in slow motion. “What did I do...?” His voice was slow. He really was moving in slow motion. “What do I do...” Matthew launched himself into the air with his fist raised. He aimed himself to punch at Billy.

Tommy gripped the shoulders of the boys next to him, leaning forward and yelling with entertainment. “Fight!”

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed. His fists clenched. He threw the basket ball to the side and shifted to a fighting stance. He blocked Matthew’s punch with his arm and reversed their roles. He swung his fist at Matthew’s face, somehow knocking him to the side of the room. Tommy, Max and Y/n’s eyes widened, as well as everyone else’s in the room.

Matthew still refused to give up. He jumped in front of Billy, “Alright! Alright...”

Max yelled from the bleachers. “Watch out!” They all turned to her. “It’s that one guy.”

“Ha!” Matthew smiled mischievously and ran at Billy again. Sadly, some people just don’t learn from their mistakes. Billy threw an uppercut to Matthews chin, sending him flying to the back of the room. Billy got in some extra punches while Matthew was still down. The two landed in front of each other, most of the people in the gym now gathered around them.

Matthew blew dust off his shoulders and turned to Billy before laughing a laugh that could’ve been mistaken for a villain’s. They started to circle each other, Mathew taking a step to the left and Billy taking a step to the right, “Well well well...you’re quite the opponent.” His neck moved left and then moved back to the right after each syllable when he said, “Hargrove.”

“Who the hell are you anyway?”

“My name,” he swung his right arm up into the air, his left clenched in a fist that met his collar bone. “is Matthew Patel! And I’m Y/n’s FIRST,” Matthew lifted his pointer finger on his left hand and moved his arm to the side. He moved his fingers so that his pinky, ring and middle fingers were out, his thumb and pointer finger touching so that the tips were smooshed together. He turned back to Billy, “evil ex boyfriend.” His shoulders moved up and down one at a time when he said boyfriend. When his hand went down, he let out a growl.

“Her what?” Everyone’s heads turned to Y/n.

She turned to Max and the other people on the right of her. Y/n nervously smiled, “Anyone need a drink?”

A fight initiated between the two boys, fists and feet being used. The grunts coming from both males were loud. Surely, at least one of them would have bruises after this.

Max made a face of massive confusion, looking around for any clues of the situation. Her older brother kept fighting the abnormal kid. After a few more swings, Billy, again, realized how confusing this really was. He wanted to ask beforehand, but this Matthew guy was really determined to teach Billy a lesson.

“Wait!” He held out his hand in a stopping motion. “We’re fighting over Y/n?” He personally had no problem with it, but the “Evil Ex” thing was getting to his head.

Matthew lowered his fist slightly, “didn’t you get my letter explaining the situation?”

“I skimmed it...”

Max squeezed her eyes shut and clicked her tongue. “Mm mm.” She shook her head with her disconfirming noise.

Matthew only seemed to grow madder. “You will pay for your INSOLENCE!” He threw kick after kick after kick, all of which were blocked by Billy. The anger fueled him to the point where Billy could only do few attacks with little time. Just as Billy was gaining the upper hand, Matthew socked him square in the face with both fists, then his right foot with a jump spinning kick.

The people in the crowd behind Billy caught him when he fell backwards from the attack, pushing him forwards and urging him to continue with the fight. Matthew backed up one foot at a time and did weird dance, finishing it off with pulling his coat forward a bit so the dust came off of it and tilting his left foot upwards.

“Hey.” Max leaned forward, gaining the attention of two boys as well as everyone else in the gym. “What’s up with his outfit?”

“Yeah. Is he a pirate?” Laughter flooded the room at Tommy’s observation.

Billy was also curious. “Are you a pirate?” He asked Matthew in a simple and genuinely asking way. Unfortunately, Matthew looked caught off guard and offended.

“Pirates are in this year!” He wasn’t shouting, but he said it with a sassy and upset tone. “Gah!” This time he did shout. His fist was aimed at Billy, and his feet were already moving forward.

More attacks were made. Billy finally did have the upper hand. After Matthew tried to hit Billy’s face again, Billy caught his arms and held them to his chest. His eyes and head turned to Y/n. He was pissed off now. “You really went out with this guy?”

Everyone faced Y/n now. “Yeah.” She stood up and leaned forward, “In the 5th grade.”

Silence. Billy looked around, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, he spoke up again, “And?”

She sighed. “It was football season and for some reason, all the little jocks wanted me. Matthew was the only nonwhite nonjock boy in town, so the two of us joined forces and we took 'em all down. We brawled and scrapped, fought for hours. Nothing could beat Matthew’s mystical powers. We only kissed once. After a week and a half, I told him to hit the showers.”

Matthew was full of rage. His furrowed eyebrows and reddened skin could do nothing but confirm that statement.

“Dude wait- mystical powers?” Billy was confused. Unluckily for him, Matthew took advantage of his distracted state and broke free from his grip. Music started playing in the background. Matthew pushed Billy and turned to Y/n, holding out his pointer finger and pointing at her. The veins on his forehead were bulging.

“You’ll pay for this,” He paused for a second. Y/n was visibly afraid. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was was ajar. Matthew finished his sentence with a slight raspy sound to his voice, “L/n.” He swiftly turned to Billy and started dancing and singing. It’s a cringey dance and song to say the least.

“If you want to fight me,”

Max made the same confused face as she had previously. “What!?” She knew it was dumb to pick a fight with Billy, but to sing and dance while doing so? And to get her exes together so they could fight Billy? Were they that dumb?

“Hah! You’re not the brightest.

You won’t know what hit you,

in the sligh-igh-ightest.”

He made sounds with his mouth, floating into the air. Black and white colored girls, kind of like those old animations on tv, were summoned around him. They looked like someone wanted to make demon girls but was a perverted guy who loves hipsters.

“This guy’s good-” One of the basketball team members spoke. He too was wide eyed and confused as fuck.

“Me and my fireballs,

my demon hipster chicks!”

Looks like he was right about hipsters.

“Tell ‘em Matty.” They had a seductive-like voice. With a closer look, Billy could see that their eyes were like snakes. Their teeth were sharp too.

“I’m talking thee talk,

‘Cause I know I’m slick!” He winked before his weird demons spoke again.

“S-L-ICK.”

“Fireball-balls!” He threw the fireball at Billy, who thankfully dodged it in time. Gasps were heard around the room. At least it wasn’t just Billy seeing this shit. “Take this sucker out!” More flames erupted from his hands, shooting at Billy again.

“We’ll show him

What we’re all about!”

“That doesn’t even rhyme!” Billy finished off his sentence by throwing the now broken ring from the hoop at Matthew like a frizzbe. It hit him in the head and caused him to flip backwards a bit. His demons disappeared and it was his turn for his eyes to widen.

‘This is impossible. How can this be?’

Somehow, Billy heard and responded to Matthew’s thoughts with his own, ‘Open your eyes. Maybe you’ll see.’ He jumped at Matthew and returned the punch that had formerly knocked him back into the crowd.

Though, something strange happened this time. When Billy’s fist made contact with Matthew’s skin, he slowly fell a bit, but when he hit the ground, his body turned into 9 quarters. Everyone except for Tommy, Max, Carol, Billy and Y/n continued acting normal. The difference with them and the 5 others were that they had no memory of this “Matthew Patel” or of any fight. The damage in the gym was restored, but still. The 5 of them knew what happened and didn’t know quite yet that no one else did.

“Sweet! Coins!”

“Coins that’re mine, shortstack.” Billy took the remains of Matthew from the poor kid holding them. He walked outside, following the other 4 to discuss what just happened.

[looney-mooney]

Insecure Intimacy

Chapter 1/3

Badgerclops and Mao Mao each have their insecurities. But with time, patience, and passion, they will learn to love these things about themselves and eachother that most others would find repulsive. An established relationship Badgermao fic, includes art nerd Badgerclops, Adorabat with a bit more of a sense of independence (which involves learning how to be a magical hero from Camille), and Mao Mao’s personal insecurities! And uhh, since we’re using the citrus system... Orange, I guess? Will eventually be Lemon.

AO3

Mao Mao and Badgerclops had been sorta-kinda dating for a few months at this point. Their home on the hilltop reflected these changes: Mao Mao and Badgerclops had moved out of the triple-bunk bed, getting themselves a full-sized bed and setting up a room for Adorabat in the basement. Despite her enthusiasm for her caretaker’s newfound romance, Adorabat had been resistant to certain changes, especially the one with the beds. But it wasn’t long before she realized she kinda liked having her own space, especially once her caretakers had put in some extra effort to convert a portion of the basement Garage into something more personalized to their unofficial daughter: She had always used that room as a sort of refuge, after all, and it was already her favorite colors. They had relocated the triple bunk bed from their old room to the basement garage, and though the top and middle bunks remained untouched, the bottom bunk that used to be Mao Mao’s had been converted into a drafting table for drawing, making up new weapons, and (occasionally) doing homework. And the basement meant she got to have her own TV, extra couch, and they all pitched in to add beanbag chairs and extra fun carpets to the space. Adorabat liked making the room her own, liked having a space to get away from time to time, and liked having loving caretakers who really, REALLY loved each other. 

And her caretakers didn’t mind having a bit more space to themselves, either. 

It was a Tuesday night. Things tended to die down a bit on Tuesdays, usually just neighborhood disputes and no real attacks from monsters or pirates or any villains of the sort. It frustrated the everliving hell outta Mao Mao, not getting much to do. And Adorabat was spending the night at the witches house, having been curious about the process behind the creation of magical weapons and eager to be a witch’s apprentice for a few days. (Mao Mao pretended to disapprove, but Badgerclops had caught him sneaking proud looks at the pictures Badgerclops had taken earlier with his instant camera and put up on the fridge of her in her new witch’s hat, proudly holding a wand in her little wing. She was going to make a fine hero one day, that much was for sure, and she was sure to learn something useful from this experience. It was kinda sad to watch her start to gain a sense of independence and branching out in her knowledge, but at the same time, it was so incredible to watch her grow into the wonderfully unique hero she was always meant to become.)

Maybe the fact that Adorabat was seeking knowledge from another source than her number one hero was bumming Mao out a bit, too: it might have contributed to his antsiness, aside from the long, arduous day of settling disputes instead of fighting monsters. 

Badgerclops decided that maybe it would be best to check up on him, just in case. 

He found his partner in the Dojo, taking his frustrations out on a defenseless punching bag. 

Badgerclops decided to watch his partner for a moment. He really was... Beautiful, once you decided to let yourself see it. His muscles were wiry, but strong, and his fur was so dark it almost absorbed light, like the night sky before its first stars peeked through. He was fast, flexible, moved in impossible ways, his fangs flashing white against the inky darkness of his fur, eyes almost glowing that impossibly pure emerald green, his cape fluttering behind him, framing his movements like a comic book character. 

Badgerclops decided to try drawing him. It’d be impossible to get down a detailed sketch when he was like this, but it’d still make good figure drawing practice, and he was just so incredibly beautiful, it made him wonder how he never really noticed it before. 

Badgerclops popped out his sketchpad, and started doodling his love, right there in the doorway, as he went to town on the punching bag. It was impossible to reallycapture his beauty, of course, but this didn’t have to be perfect - figure drawing was all about capturing the feeling of the movement, after all. And... it was kinda nice, just sitting there, doodling that beautiful black blur of action.

After a while, Mao Mao took a small break, leaning down to grab a water bottle and downing it with big, thirsty gulps. That was when he caught Badgerclops sitting in the door jam, sketchpad and pen in hand, studying him intensely. It made him choke almost on his water in surprise.

“Uh... Hey, Badgerclops. What are you doing there?”

Badgerclops blinked himself out of it - he must have gone into hyperfocus for a while there - And smiled. “Oh, nothing, just practicing my figure drawing.”

“Wha - on ME?”

Badgerclops rolled his eyes a little, though the fond smile remained. “Yes, on you, silly! Who else would I be drawing?”

Mao Mao shuffled his feet a bit, coughing into his fist with a small, adorable little blush - whether the cough was out of bashfulness or simply to dislodge some more of the water caught in his throat was undeterminable. Probably a little bit of both.

“I don’t know, yourself? I mean, I know I’m a dashing hero and all, but I’m... not exactly much of a looker, ya know?”

Badgerclops tilted his head. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think you’re beautiful. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Shhhhut up."

“It’s true! I mean, look at you! You’re GORGEOUS. Here, look:” He turned his sketchpad around, revealing page after page of Mao Mao studies. “I mean, it’s hard to capture your real beauty with just some lines, but you’re kinda fun to draw anyway, you know?”

Mao Mao looked at the drawings, and really, REALLY looked at them. They looked like him, but like... He couldn’t be that... elegant, could he? That fierce, or that smooth, or... it looked more like one of his sisters, really; truly heroic, with a natural deadly grace. But then again, his sisters weren’t that cocky, quite that sly, or sexy, or... wait, what?

Did Badgerclops think he was... Sexy???

Mao Mao glanced up, to see Badgerclops looking at him, a smile on his features. It made Mao Mao swallow with unexpected emotions.

“Badgerclops, these are... these are incredible.”

“Awww, shucks...”

“No no, I really mean it. Are these like, pure ink sketches, or something?”

“Yeah, I like drawing you with my brush pens! It really shows off how fluid and dynamic you can be, and makes it easier to capture how dark your fur is. These are just figure drawings though, I was just seeing if I could draw you in motion. The way you move is kinda spectacular, Mao Mao.”

And there goes his face, sacrificed to the firey hot demons of passion. Fare thee well, we shall miss you, forever concealed behind a now eternal blush. God dammit, did his partner really have to be so genuine? He wasn’t even being smooth on purpose, the bastard . 

“Yeah, well - psh. Of course I’m - uh - sp-spectacular. How... How else would I, uh... become the greatest hero of all - of all time?”

“You are really spectacular, dude. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise, okay? Cuz you’re awesome. And you’re also mine. And nobody gets to insult my boyfriend but me, and I only insult you when I’m teasing or when you’re being a dingle, so that’s okay. And you get to insult me when I’m being a butt.”

“To be fair, you do have a very nice butt.”

“Oh, stop it! Your butt’s pretty awesome too, you know.”

“No it’s not, are you kidding me? It’s all gross back there, with a disfigured tail stump and everything. It’s a hideous butt, that’s why I wear a cape, ya butt.”

“Well, I don’t know man. I mean, once I got past the fact that you had gotten that badly hurt, I realize it’s not actually all that gross back there. It’s kinda awesome, really, how intricate the scarring is back there...”

Mao Mao gasped, feeling a wandering hand on his backside, carefully tracing one of the scars on his tailstump with a delicate claw. That thing was... REALLY sensitive. Holy SHIT . He shivered, hard, and wobbled on his feet, allowing his partner’s robot arm to steady him. He felt Badgerclops lean forward, his face Juuuust nextto his twitching ear.

“You know, Adorabat’s not gonna be home for a few days. ... Why don’t we take this to our room? Spend some... quality time  together ~ ”

Holy SHIT. “O... Okay.”

Badgerclops, the fiend , scooped him up in a bridal-style carry with impossible ease, and carried him over through the kitchen and into their shared bedroom. Besides the situation with the rearranged beds, nothing much had really changed about the room. Up until this point, they hadn’t really done much other than make out and grope, though there had been that one incident with the closet...

Up next: the Closet Incident

[kathrynmaslow]

Love Lies 5/15

Summary: Ever since Emma was 13, she knew she had the ability to destroy people if she wanted to, and some days, she really wanted to. After being forced to go to Greenwood Academy following a traumatizing event in her childhood that brought to the surface her ability to manipulate fire, she never thought she would be free of the place. So for nearly 10 years, she lived a solitary existence with the exception of her best friends, but that was all about to change.

Killian Jones had just been sentenced to attend the university campus at Greenwood Academy after an accident at sea caused him to be dishonorably discharged from Her Majesty’s royal Navy and lose his hand. He doesn’t know what to think about these newfound powers and what they spell for the rest of his now not-so-normal life. But a chance encounter one day has the ability to change all of that.

A story about love and redemption between two people that shows, if you have the right person beside you, you can find a light in the darkness.

Rating: M Content Warnings: Mentions of Violence/Death, Brief mention of Childhood Abuse/Sexual Assault, Mild Sexual Content Chapter Notes: Chapter 5 is here folks! This is actually one of my favorite chapters in this entire work so I am excited for you to read it as well!

Check out the amazing art work that my artist @princesse-swan did for both chapter 3 on tumblr. Thanks again as always to my beta @daveyjacobsthepotterhead for taking this work and helping me turn it into something great. You are the literal best.

Read on FF

Catch up on Tumblr: One  Two  Three  Four

Art by @princesse-swan here

Chapter 5 Emma sat down on the edge of the wall surrounding the plant beds at the entrance to campus from the dorms. Unwrapping her grilled cheese and tomato sandwich, she looked out at the rows of dorm buildings lining the main walk onto the academic campus.

The sidewalks were abandoned, with nary a soul on campus to be found. Many of the students went home during the fall break about halfway through the term, and Emma took advantage of some time just to herself that she didn’t have to spend in her room.

While she enjoyed time with her friends while they were on campus, she did enjoy having the campus pretty much to herself during the breaks where everyone who wasn’t high risk got to go home. If she remembered correctly, after Elsa moved into a community in Alaska last summer, there were about 17 other students that had a full run of the campus to themselves.

Losing Elsa as a friend had been hard. She had arrived at the academy after Emma had, and could have been considered her polar opposite in every way. While Emma burned hot, Elsa burned cold, with extensive gifts of ice and snow, she proved quite the challenge for the staff to contain, considering that she could freeze off her suppression gear and not be affected by them at all. She was someone that Emma could relate to, someone who could understand the beast that prowled beneath her skin, and losing that confidant last semester had been something that she truly hadn’t fully bounced back from yet.

Taking a bite out of her sandwich, Emma just sat and watched the leaves fall from the trees.

o.O.o

Killian didn’t know what to think about how quiet the campus had become once fall break had begun.

Yes, he had been told that all the students who weren’t high risk students would be allowed to visit home for the two weeks that classes were on break, but he hadn’t realized how truly empty the campus would feel.

He spent the first two days of the break wandering around campus to see who was around.

A few of the administration members were lingering around with the multitude of security officers watching the campus, but he had only run into a handful of other students.

There was one gentleman named Eric, who had the power to create storms out of thin air. He was a perfectly nice guy, but after living 6 years of his life on a boat, he decided not to trust anyone who could sink a ship on a whim.

Another woman named Cruella had the ability to control people with her voice. How they regulated that power, Killian couldn’t fathom, but it was probably for the best.

On the third day, it seemed as though he was in luck.

While wandering through the abandoned floors of the library, he stumbled upon Emma bent over another drawing book sketching.

Thankfully she didn’t have any headphones over her ears this time, so he didn’t have any chance of ruining her artwork, but he still made the effort to make a bit of noise against the door as he walked in.

Emma looked up at him in shock.

“Killian, what are you doing here?” She asked.

“Wandering through the library, but I don’t suppose that is what you meant by the question.” He stated. He had never mentioned to her that he was a high risk student before and Killian had to imagine that this was a bit of a shock.

“I am so sorry, that completely came out wrong. However, that was what I had meant by the poorly phrased question.” Emma said, tucking her hair behind her ear as she flushed in what Killian presumed was embarrassment.

“It’s fine Swan, truly. I know you didn’t mean anything horrible by the remark.”

“I am a bit curious though, what kind of powers do you have that make you a high risk student?” Emma said, pushing her notebook to the side and leaning towards him.

He caught a glance at the notebook as it turned towards him slightly, and he grasped at the chance to change the subject. He didn’t even like thinking about his powers, so he really didn’t want to talk about them with someone else.

“Emma, this is amazing.”

It was, truly. Drawn out on the page was the image of a woman, long black hair hanging over her shoulders, one bloody hand clutching a dagger to her chest and the other grasping a heart. There was no color to the design yet, but she had shaded in where the blood was likely soaked into the woman’s hair and dress. The entire thing was hauntingly beautiful.

“I know an attempt to distract me when I hear it.” Emma said.

“I wasn’t trying to distract you, I genuinely like your art.” He retorted.

“I also am pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me. And while you do like peeking at my sketches, you were lying that this wasn’t a distraction.” Emma said, looking adorably smug when she said it.

He couldn’t help but smile in response. “Fine,” Killian said, rolling his eyes. “Maybe I was trying to get you off my tale, but I would prefer not to talk about this. It’s not something I am truly comfortable with and, while I do enjoy your company and think of you fondly like a friend, I don’t think this is something I can tell you about.”

Emma stared at him for a long moment before nodding her head.

“I can accept that, there are things about myself, and events that have happened to me that I don’t talk about to anyone else. I can understand needing time to process things that are traumatic before being able to open up to someone else.” She said.

“Since we aren’t talking about anything related to our powers or our past,” She said, pausing to look up at him meaningly. “Why don’t you tell me something that I probably wouldn’t know about you.” She said.

When Emma was smiling at him like that, He couldn’t deny her anything.

“I actually am a bit artistic myself. I do the occasional doodle.” Killian said.

Emma’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“There are a lot of things about me that you wouldn’t expect Swan.” He said, relishing the flush that spread across her face in response to his quirked eyebrow and tongue in cheek.

“Alright Killian, let’s see what you can do.” She said, pulling blank sheets from her book for the both of them and handing him a pencil.

“What do you want me to draw for you Love?” He asked, taking the pencil from her and working to move the paper into the position he wanted it in with his other wrist.

“Whatever inspires you right now.” She said.

He looked up into her bright green eyes and knew exactly what he wanted to draw.

“How long are you going to give me?” Killian asked.

“Let’s say, finish in an hour. Whatever you can finish by that point in time is what you’ve got.” Emma said.

“Challenge Accepted.” He said, turning to his work and beginning his attempt at replicating perfection.

o.O.o

Emma and Killian were spending the afternoon out in the courtyard between the college campus and the lower campus when they heard it.

Killian stopped mid-sentence in his retelling of how his brother got stuck by the back of his shorts in a tree when they were younger and cocked his head.

“Swan, does that sound like crying to you?” He asked.

Emma listened harder, facing further towards the lower campus where Killian was pointing towards. Sure enough, it did sound like someone was crying.

She stood, gesturing for Killian to follow, heading towards the lower campus.

Normally, students on the college campus were not allowed to venture onto the lower campus, but since it was a school break, students were allowed to roam the grounds as they pleased.

They walked past the first handful of buildings before they could finally locate the sound.

Curled into a ball between two of the buildings and crying into his hands was a boy with a mop of brown hair.

The young boy could have been no more than 12, which was incredibly young for someone to come to the academy.

But then again, Emma had arrived around that age as well.

Emma flashed back to one of her first days on the campus, reeling from being separated from her family and forced to move halfway across the country to a place she didn’t know and getting surrounded by people she was unfamiliar with.

She had also spent a few nights crying from the loss. The loss of her brother, the loss of her mother, the loss of the only home she had known.

The loss of her normal life.

She turned to see Killian watching her with a speculative gaze. She only shook her head at him.

Turning back to the little boy, she walked slowly towards him, since he still hadn’t noticed them standing there.

“Hey, are you okay?” She asked, crouching down in front of him.

The boy visibly started, looking up at her in surprise.

“What? Who are you?” He asked.

“My name is Emma, and this is Killian,” She said, gesturing behind her at Killian, who was still standing back from them at a good distance.

She noted that his blunt wrist was tucked behind his back.

“Are you okay?” She asked again.

The boy sniffled, nodding his head in agreement even though a few fat tears still escaped his eyes to fall down his cheeks.

“What’s your name?”

“Henry,” He said, sticking his hand out in greeting.

“Well Henry, it is a pleasure to meet you. When did you start your stay here?” Emma asked. He didn’t seem the type to be a new high risk student since he didn’t have any suppression items on that she could see, but you never know.

“My mom dropped me off this morning.” Henry said, sniffing loudly again, his lower lip quivering.

“Well, it sounds like you could use a friend, would you like to hang out with me and my friend for the rest of the day?” Emma asked.

Nodding his head, he stood up and fell into her extended arms.

He shook a little with quiet cries, and Emma rubbed his back in a soothing manner.

Killian came around in front of her, and placed his hand on the back of Henry’s shoulders and rubbed slow circles as well.

“You know Henry, I remember my first night that I spent away from all my family.” Killian said.

Henry pulled away from her slightly, turning to look at Killian.

“Really, I thought it was the most terrifying thing that could ever happen to me at the time.” Killian admitted. “Would you like to hear about it?”

“Is it a scary story?” Henry asked, standing fully away from Emma.

“Not really, it only seemed like it at the time. Why don’t you come for a walk with Emma and I, we had a lunch sitting out in the courtyard.” Killian stood, extending his gloved hand for Henry to take.

Emma smiled, watching Killian lead Henry towards their impromptu picnic sight, weaving an exaggerated story of a 20 year old man sleeping away from home for the first time, and crying himself to sleep.

Killian winked over his shoulder at her once he got Henry laughing at his story.

With that wink, Emma felt something she was pretty sure would grow into love start blooming under her breast.

o.O.o

Killian was walking around campus outside.

It was pretty close to the time he went to bed, but it was fixing to storm out, lightning streaking across the sky and thunder rolling in across the campus, and it made him restless.

The barrier surrounding the campus kept out all supposed threats against their safety, but unfortunately, couldn't prevent the rain from falling on them.

His thoughts were occupied with thoughts of Henry, that young lad they had found on campus earlier.

Emma had told Killian that he was a bit of an anomaly when he mentioned that his gifts had only just manifested at 25 years, but he didn’t know they could start showing that early.

The young lad hand only just turned 12 a few weeks ago, a fact the young lad had divulged to them while they were splitting ham and cheese sandwiches and cheetos in the middle of campus during the day.

He had something relatively minor as a gift, something that doesn’t require him to stay on campus during school breaks like him and Emma have to.

When they revealed that fact to the lad, it seemed to turn his entire spirit around, from sniffeling and sad to bright and chipper.

Almost a bit too bright, considering the lad started glowing on them.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he was pretty spooked when he heard a voice off to his left.

“Killian?”

He whirled around, and found Emma sitting on a low wall surrounding a garden in the yard.

“Emma, what are you doing out here?” he asked, tucking his hand into his pocket as he made his way over to her.

“I could ask you the same thing.” She said, watching as he came over and sat down next to her.

“Couldn’t sleep, decided to go for a bit of a walk.” He said, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

“Me neither.” Emma said, pulling one of her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around it, resting her chin on her knee.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t sleep because of the storms, I don’t think that was the case for you. What’s vexing you love?”

Emma turned to look at him, but once she noticed him looking at her, she turned her face away.

A flash of lightning across the sky lit up her face for a split second, and Killian could have sworn he saw tear tracks tracing down her cheeks.

It wasn’t until after the rumble of thunder rolled over campus a couple of seconds later that she began to talk.

“I started at the academy here when I was 13, not much older than Henry is. I guess seeing him today brought back some memories of when I first arrived here.”

“I can’t even imagine what that would have been like.” He said, when it became obvious that she wasn’t going to continue. It was so unlike her to open up about anything to him when it came to how she started at the academy, so he was going to have to take it as it came.

“It was lonely.” She said, still not looking at him.

Killian watched a few more bolts of lightning flash across the sky, the air becoming damp and oppressive as the storm continued its advance towards them.

Neither one of them made any move to leave and avoid getting poured on, but Killian wasn’t inclined to leave her alone.

He never could leave her like this.

“I lost everything. Henry gets to keep his family, he gets to go back to his mom, see his dad, and play with his brothers and sister. I got none of that.” She looked over to him, her eyes rimmed in red, and something in Killian’s chest tightened.

She had obviously been out here a while before he had happened upon her.

“My mother disowned me, my father was already long gone, and I haven’t seen my older brother, my best friend and partner in crime, in person in almost ten years. I didn’t get to see him get married and I didn’t get to see the birth of my niece. And it’s not fair.”

Something in her voice cracked when she said “fair”, and Killian wanted desperately to pull her into his arms and give her a hug, but she was so closed off that he didn’t think it would be well received.

At that moment, the heavens decided to open up and the rain came pouring down on the two of them.

Killian looked up at the sky, the rain hitting his face with wet plops that made water run into his eyes and he blinked rapidly to clear them.

Turning to look at Emma, he felt the rain continue to soak into his hair and shirt, and he wondered absently if it would ruin the mechanics in his glove getting them this wet.

Getting a good look at Emma for a second, he had to choke back on a laugh.

“What?” She said, hearing his choked off laugh and turning to face him after looking up at the storm clouds above them as well.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, truly love. But you’re steaming.” Indeed, little wiffs of steam were rising from where the rain was splattering down onto her bare skin.

He pressed his lips together in an effort to keep himself under some measure of control.

But it seemed to be in vain as a large smile broke out on her face, wiping away the lingering sadness in her expression from their conversation.

“Did I never mention that I may run a bit warmer than a normal person?” She said, chuckling a bit as she asked him.

“No, but that might be a useful thing, considering that I am now soaking wet and cold.” Killian laughed.

“Oh no you don’t, that is entirely your own fault.” Emma said, moving away as he leaned towards her, but it wasn’t in fear of him. No, she could tell he was playing with her.

“Come here and warm me up Emma!” He said, lunging after her.

She leapt off of the wall with stunning speed, darting across the yard in a blur of damp blond hair trailing behind her.

And as he chased her around, moving after her and sliding around in the mud enough to cause them both to burst into further hysterics, something warm bloomed up in his chest.

It felt like the first ray of sunshine after a storm, and he wanted to hold onto that feeling as long as he could.

Wrapping his arms around her from behind as they both went sliding through another patch of mud, Killian pulled her close as he tried to keep them both upright.

They were both laughing as he turned her around to look at him, her arms coming around him in turn.

Something in her expression changed, some of the laughter and lightness transitioning into something curious.

His eyebrows pinched together, getting ready to ask her what she was thinking about when Emma pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

It was like that first ray of sun, and when the seas are calm and the sky is blue, and that first bite of fresh summer fruit after a long, cold and dark winter.

Her lips were soft against his, and he pressed back, tightening his arms around her and forming his lips more firmly with hers.

They broke apart with a start when a peel of thunder began right above them.

She gave him a tentative smile, and took his hand. “Come on sailor, let’s get you out of the rain.”

o.O.o

The rain had fried some of the electronics in his glove, and he couldn’t move his fingers the next day, but he wouldn’t have changed that night for anything.

[lesbianrobin]

sunrise

Pairing: Clizzy Words: 1179 Warnings: none

Read on AO3

Clary always doodles. When she’s excited, when she’s nervous, when she’s on her third cup of coffee in as many hours. Sometimes she draws what she sees, or something in her imagination, or, on one memorable occasion, her American Literature teacher as a swimsuit model. She constantly has smudges on her hands, from ink and paint and graphite and oil pastels in more colors than Izzy even thought existed. Colors are Clary’s favorite thing about art, besides the emotion behind it and the glamorous life of a not-quite-starving art student. She loves to find the exact shades of white, brown, beige, and pink to mix and match Izzy’s skin or the perfect oil pastel to highlight her hair, and, when working only with a regular pencil, she loves to spend hours shading everything just so, bringing shades of grey to life. Clary is currently bathed in color, pink and orange light making her hair shine and her pale skin glow as though gilded. She sits on the windowsill, leaning against the large window frame and gazing out towards the city. Her sketchbook rests on her legs and a yellow bucket of colored pencils rests between her bare feet. In another world, one that was harsher and more taxing on the soul, she might look like a raging wildfire, but all Izzy can see is a hearth, a home, a warm fire’s glow reflected in her girlfriend. Clary bites her lip as she uses a fingertip to smudge something on the page, and Isabelle’s breath catches in her throat. How in the world has she gotten so lucky?

“I can hear you thinking from over here,” Clary calls, looking up from her sketchbook with a cheeky grin, “You want to tell me what’s on that beautiful mind of yours?”

“You,” Izzy says, lying on her side, still too deep in the post-sleep haze of early morning to come up with a witty response.

Clary’s grin grows to a beaming smile, and she blows a kiss across the room.

“What’re you-,” Izzy pauses to yawn, “-working on?”

“An artist never reveals her secrets.”

“That’s magicians.”

“Making something beautiful appear from thin air- is there that much of a difference?”

Izzy bursts out laughing.

Clary pouts. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Baby, that was so pretentious.”

Clary wings a pencil at her and misses, striking her own pillow.

Izzy sits up from her blanket cocoon and stretches. It’s then Clary’s turn to hold her breath for a moment, entranced by glowing golden skin and a sparkling smile. She’s grown more or less accustomed to experiencing Isabelle’s beauty day after day, but in moments like these, Clary feels like she’s seeing her for the first time.

“Are we still meeting everyone for brunch today?”

“Well, I’ve got a bunch of annoyed whiney texts from your brothers, so I think it’s safe to say Magnus still expects us at ten-thirty.”

Isabelle yawns again and pushes a large knot of dark hair out of her face, wrinkling her nose.

“You are so adorable,” Clary says, and suddenly realizes that at some point, she put down her sketchbook.

Izzy tilts her head and her lips quirk into a bemused smile.

“What did you say?” Izzy asks, teasing but with a genuinely interested tone.

“I said you’re adorable, you jerk!” Clary hides her face in her hands, unable to stand the full force of Izzy’s inquisitive gaze.

A few seconds pass, and Clary feels warm hands on hers. Izzy gently pries her girlfriend’s hands away from her red face and leans in for a kiss.

“Gross, brush your teeth first!” Clary says, but leans in to give Isabelle a sweet kiss anyways.

“You know, Clary Fray, I have been given many names in my day, but you just gave me three new ones,” Isabelle says, criss-crossing her legs to sit on the floor by the low windowsill.

Clary’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What, nobody’s ever told you how cute you are?”

Izzy shakes her head. “I get a lot of hot and sexy and intimidating, but never adorable or jerk or even gross.”

Clary frowns. “Alright, sure, you’re unfairly gorgeous, but you’re also kind of a little shit sometimes. That’s why I love you.” She says it plainly, like it’s an indisputable truth that Clary Fray loves Isabelle Lightwood and Izzy should already know why.

Izzy gives Clary a long look, and slowly reaches out to brush a lock of almost violently red hair behind her ear. She leaves her hand there and cups Clary’s cheek, stroking softly with her thumb. Clary gazes back adoringly and brings her own hand up to take Isabelle’s. She brings their joined hands to her lips and presses a kiss to Izzy’s skin.

Izzy sits up on her knees to softly kiss Clary, once, twice, and press their foreheads together. They sit together quietly and Isabelle breathes I love you into the cool morning air, her eyes tightly shut. She opens them to find Clary gazing intently into her eyes, and this time Clary leans in for something more substantial. Their lips collide-

And Clary slips off of her perch, falling onto Izzy and leaving them both sprawled on the cold, hard floor.

They dissolve into giggles, which turn to full-bodied laughs and clutching stomachs and catching breaths. Clary rolls over so that she’s lying on top of Izzy, the lines of their bodies nearly perfectly matched.

“Why, hello there,” Izzy says with an exaggerated breathy tone and an impressively sleazy wink.

Clary kisses her properly, deeply, her bottom lip slotting between Izzy’s. Izzy begins to breathe a little harder as tongues enter the fray, and she can’t recall ever feeling so light and loved. Clary pulls back and Izzy chases her, lifting her head off the ground as far as she can with another person laying fully on top of her. Izzy glares at Clary, who winks back.

Clary wiggles her way down Izzy’s body, just long enough for her to get excited, and then abruptly stops with her head over Izzy’s chest. She proceeds to situate her head directly between Isabelle’s breasts, clinging to Izzy’s black sleep shirt that Clary’s certain she stole from her brother.

“And just what do you think you’re doing down there?”

“Napping,” Clary replies, burrowing into Izzy’s chest.

“You are evil! And it’s, like, seven in the morning!”

“I got up early for the sunrise,” Clary mumbles, following her statement with a very convincing yawn.

Isabelle rolls her eyes and opens her mouth for a moment, and then closes it. She rests her head back on the ground and closes her eyes.

She cards her hand through Clary’s hair lazily as their breathing slows. Clary takes Izzy’s unoccupied hand with her own, and plays with her fingers for a while. Her fingers slowly stall as her grip on Isabelle’s shirt relaxes. Izzy’s stroking ceases soon after, and they’re drifting.

They wake up hungry just before noon to somebody banging on the door and two incessantly ringing cell phones, and neither girl has any regrets.