#this is my top project for my birthday with a new adjustable skirt coming in second

[cultivating-wildflowers]

today I am learning how to make a corset

[fetishfairytales2]

The Secretary, Pt. 1 (Story)

When Chloe didn't show up to Brandi's birthday bash, I decided it was time to bring the party to Brandi's office. Sure, Chloe was the girl Brandi cheated on me with, but honestly I just felt sorry for the poor gal. If she could be fooled into thinking my little sweet sissy was a real man? Well, that girl had bigger problems! No, I need to introduce their former colleagues, especially Chloe, to my new and improved Brandi. I wanted to show off my little project, and I knew some people in the office would be the perfect audience!

As for Brandi's boss, Charles, that tall, dark, and handsome hunk of a man… let's just say we have a mutual understanding. We used to flirt when Brandi was still living a lie as a man, but now? Let's just say I had to put in some "extra work" during our private negotiations in his office to ensure Brandi could keep working remotely. It's all about using my charms, and Charles has certainly seen my charms, if you know what I mean! She dodged the humiliation of seeing her coworkers at her birthday party, but my sissy slut was not going to get that lucky twice! No, no, no!

As I drove over, I schemed, knowing this was gonna be fun! My little sissy Brandi was strapped into her car seat, helpless, wearing the cutest outfit ever. She looked adorable in her pink frilly skirt that barely covered her diapered ass, a white crop top with "Baby Girl" in glittery letters, and white knee-high socks with pink bows. But the accessories… Princess Brandi deserved some bling! I had her wearing this cute little bib that said, "Daddy's Little Girl," her penis pacifier, which was gagging her, tied tightly with a cute satin ribbon. The glittery pink sash that read "Birthday Babe" was the perfect touch! When I pulled into the near-empty parking lot, I burst out laughing. "Oh look, Brandi, there he is!" I teased, seeing my sissy squirm in the rearview mirror. "Mr. Charles, always the early bird. How lucky that he's still in his car!" I adjusted my the top of, very short, very tight black dress, making sure my tits were on full display, no bra necessary of course. Charles had seen me naked a million times by now, but I wanted to make a good impression! I stepped out of the car with a sway of my hips, letting the door slam shut. That got Charles' attention, for sure!

I strutted my stuff over to Charles' car, and I could practically feel his eyes burning a hole through my dress. He rolled down his window, eyes wide, like he wanted to fuck me right then and there. "Damn, Heather, you lookin' fine!" I giggled, leaning over to give him an eyeful of my cleavage. "Girl, you know what you're doing. Ain't you supposed to be at home with your man? Usually, you're visiting me in the afternoon!" God I hope Brandi could hear this. Charles stepped out of the car and twirled me around, whistling when he spotted the g-string peeking out from under my dress. "Well, well, Miss Heather. What's the occasion?" he asked, heading towards the door. I couldn't wait to show him my little surprise!

"Oh, Mr. Charles, could you be a gentleman and hold the door for me? I need to get my little girl out of the car," I purred, batting my eyelashes. With a confused shrugged, Charles obliged, watching as I opened the trunk and pulled out a massive pink stroller which had a ton of straps attached. I wheeled it over to the back seat, giving Charles a wink and leaned into the car. “Let’s go girlie,” I laughed tightened the ribbon securing Brandi's pacifier. "Come to Mommy, sweetie," I lifted my precious cargo out of the car and plopped her down into the stroller. I grinned down at my sissy, taking my time to strap her in securely. Her eyes widened as she realized where she was, and I knew that any second now, the waterworks would start. Seeing Charles' shocked expression as he realized it was Brandi in the stroller was fucking hilarious. He looked disgusted. I just grinned and acted casual, slinging the diaper bag over my shoulder and pushing my little sissy's stroller proudly, right past him and into the building. "She's my sweet widdle princess, Brandi!" I cooed and winked at the stud still standing in the doorway. "You coming, big boy?" Brandi’s boss was going to follow me to his office. Men are so easy. As we stepped into Charles' office, I laughed at how quiet he still was. The whole elevator ride up, this chiseled smoke show of a guy just stared at Brandi, trying to wrap his head around the fact that this diapered sissy was his former employee. He had no problem fucking me behind Brandon’s back, so let’s see how he felt about fucking me in front of Brandi’s face! “Let me just get her all situated,” I laughed as I pushed the stroller into the center of the room. “Okay girlie,” I grinned, leaning over, and whispering to my crying little sissy bitch, "Stop your fucking whining, Brandi. You know Mommy's in charge, and whatever I say goes." I giggled, seeing the fear and desperation in her eyes as she hyperventilated under her gag. "Now, be a good girl and let Mommy plan our little show for Charles here."

Charles was almost cute with his concern, asking; “what did you do to…him?” He’d forget he cared real quickI just ignored his silly question and got to work. Unstrapping my little sissy from the stroller, I pulled Brandi to her feet, letting those cute little pampers show. Then, I turned my attention back to Charles, strutting towards him and running my hands over his shoulders. I could feel Brandi's eyes on us as I smiled and looked back at her. Brandi was going to watch all of this, whether she liked it or not. Leading Charles over to his desk, I giggled at his confusion. "Damn, girl, you're a freak," he said, but I just shook my head and pulled his chair out

"Have a seat, Mister Charles," I purred, pushing him down into the chair with a giggle. Turning back to my little sissy, I snapped my fingers and ordered, "Get your ass over here, now! And stop that fucking crying, you're ruining your makeup." I loved seeing the fear in Brandi's eyes as she stood there, sobbing and shaking. "You have three seconds to get that pathetic ass over here, or I'm coming to get you," I warned, hands on my hips. "1…2…" Before I even finished counting, Brandi was waddling over in those stupid diapers, knowing better than to keep Mommy waiting. "Down, bitch," I demanded, pointing to a spot in front of Charles' desk.

I smiled at the chiseled hunk of a man, and then turned my attention to my little princess. "You better behave, Princess Pampers," I cooed, reaching into the diaper bag and pulling out the cutest hot pink metal handcuffs. I locked Brandi's arms above her head to the handle of a desk drawer, ensuring she was stuck there, unable to escape. Her boss just sat there, staring at the sight of his former employee, now my diapered sissy, sucking on a pacifier, helpless and exposed. I straddled Brandi's outstretched legs, bending over the desk so that Charles had a perfect view of my ass and my little sissy's terrified face just inches below it.

I was feeling extra playful, shaking and grinding against the desk. I lifted my dress, showing off my lacy black g-string and my perfect ass. Charles' eyes almost fell out of his head! I giggled, playing with the fabric and teasing him by pulling the underwear deeper into my ass crack. "So, whatcha think?" I asked with a cute smirk. Charles was almost drooling now.! Brandi was making some sad whimpering noises, but I just ignored the poor thing…for now. "You like this ass, Charles, don’t you?" I teased, shaking it playfully. "But the real question is, you wanna hit this?" I winked, pulling my skimpy panties aside to give him a quick peek. Charles just nodded, all tongue-tied. I mean, we'd done it on my desk a million times, but he was acting like it was all brand new! God men are too easy.

I was getting so turned on, I started rubbing my clit through my panties. I mean, why the hell not? Might as well give Charles the full show, right? "Mmm, if you wanna own my pussy, first you gotta own this pussy!" I moaned, grabbing my little sissy Brandi by her bleach-blonde ponytail and yanked her head up to look her boss in the face. Her muffled screams and pleading behind that cutie pacifier cock gag was music to my ears, and I just giggled with delight. "That's right, girlie pop, you're part of the fun," I beamed down at Brandi, feeling so fucking hot. "You're not just gonna sit there and watch me fuck your boss. Oh no, sissy slut, you're getting in on this action too!"

Charles was, like, totally into it, which was a little surprising. I thought he’d put up a little bit more of a fight before he turned on his former employee. Nope! He practically pounced on me, and I wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally stepped on Brandi's dumb sissy face he got to me so fast! That would've been hilarious! Charles grabbed my hips and pulled me close, his hand sliding down to my pussy. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he growled, "What do you want me to do, baby? I’m gonna fuck you so good.." Then, he smacked my ass! Damn, it stung so good, and I could feel my pussy getting even wetter. Charles didn't wait for an invitation; he just took control like the real man he is. He pushed my hand away and started rubbing my clit with his skilled fingers, slow and steady. Mmm, he knew exactly what he was doing, and I was loving it!

"What do you wanna do to you and your little bitch?" he teased, pulling my hair playfully and biting my ear. "You own you both, hmm slut?" I moaned softly, totally unable to resist him. I was, like, putty in his hands! I was even bucking my hips like a naughty girl. And Brandi, poor thing, was just trapped there, listening to her Mommy being such a whore for a real man. "I'm gonna make you both scream my name, baby," Charles chuckled, full of confidence. "You two are mine. You’re both going to call me Sir now." His fingers moved faster, and I could feel myself getting weaker in the knees. Damn, he was good! I loved how he always took control fast!

I was moaning, feeling myself getting so turned on, like, wow! Even Conner never owned me like this, holy shit! "Ooh, fuck, sir," I screamed, almost begging for more. "Please, not yet. Let me just…" Charles turned me around quickly, kissing my neck and grabbing my hair. He even pulled my tits out of my dress! This man was hungry, and I could feel my knees shaking. I had to brace myself to regain control; damn, my clit was in charge for a second there! I pushed Charles back with a playful smile. "Nu-uh, not yet, sir!" I teased, guiding him to his chair and straddling his lap. "First," I grinned, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt and rubbing his chest, "I need to ask you for a favor. Then you can get your dick sucked all day, I promise!" I giggled, and it wasn't even a lie! Charles sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing I was up to something, but he didn't care. He was down for whatever at this point.

"I want you to call little miss intern, Chloe, into your office as soon as she gets in. Tell her it's important and she needs to clear her schedule. Do whatever you need to, I don't care, just get her in here." I winked at him. "Also, take off your pants. It's getting hot in here." I said with a smile. Now, I was back in control and God it felt good. He slid his pants off and sat back down, sissy’s eyes bulging when he saw what was hanging between Charles’ legs. God his cock was massive, I fucking loved it! "Oh, Sissy!" I cooed, smiling down at the pathetic sight of Brandi, tears pooling in those wide eyes of hers, snot streaking across her face. I just knew that wouldn't be the only mess decorating that cute baby cuck face of hers by the time I was done.

"Mommy wants to know, my widdle cucky, if you want to watch her sucking Sir's cock, hmm?" The shock of seeing me with her worst enemy was bad for Brandi, but know I was now fucking her boss too? Poor girl. She was shaking her head so har! It was so cute, the poor thing was in denial! "Oh, sweetie!" I giggled, feeling Charles' fingers pinching my nipples, making them hard just for him. "What you don't realize, my dumb sissy, is that Mister Charles and I have been fucking for months. Wondered why you've been allowed to work remotely all this time, being a stay-at-home baby cuck? Well, now you know, you silly, stupid girl!" I kissed Charles, feeling his tongue in my mouth and his hand pulling my hair. "This," I giggled, looking down at Brandi while my hands roamed Charles' chest, "is how Mommy's going to get you that promotion, little girl!”

Charles was all over me now, and I could tell he wanted more. "Promotion?" he asked, sounding intrigued as he sucked on my sensitive buds. I just smirked, knowing he'd love what I had to say. I leaned in, whispering my plan while practically pushing my tits into his mouth. His tongue and teeth on my nipples had me moaning, but I managed to explain how my little sissy Brandi would become his personal secretary. His hands gripped my ass, and then I felt them sneaking back into my panties. I arched my back and screamed when he fingered me again. God, he knew how to make me feel so damn good. "Tell me more about this new secretary of mine," Charles demanded, his fingers now playing with my clit. I whimpered and begged for more as I painted a picture of Brandi reporting to him daily, dressed in her sissy baby outfit, no spare diapers, plugged and gagged, and begging to be locked under his desk for the day. "Why do I need a sissy bitch under my desk?" Charles teased, his fingers working their magic on my clit while he pushed me closer to orgasm.

"Mmm, why don't you find out, baby?" I teased, climbing off Charles' lap and kneeling down next to the trapped Brandi, who was about to witness her cuckolding up close and personal. Charles laughed, a deep, sexy sound that filled the room, as he stood tall, his massive cock hard and throbbing, right in front of Brandi and me. "Watch closely, my widdle sissy bitch," I chuckled, reaching out to grasp Charles' dick. It felt so powerful in my hand, and I couldn't wait to taste it. I leaned in, my lips wrapping around the head of his cock, and I hummed in delight at the taste of his pre-cum as my tongue swirled around the tip. "Mmm, Sir's dick tastes so good, Brandi. So much better than your widdle clitty could ever hope to be!" I took him deeper, my lips gliding along his shaft, my mouth working hard to take his massive cock to the back of my throat. My hand stroked what my mouth couldn't reach, and I moaned with his cock buried in my throat, my eyes locking with Brandi's, seeing the tears welling up.

"I know you know how to do this, Brandi." I giggled around Charles' cock, looking directly into Brandi's eyes as I spoke, "I know you've practiced on Daddy's dick a million times. But, and shh, don't tell Daddy this," I paused, taking a breath and removing the monster cock from my mouth to playfully slap it across Brandi's face, "I think Sir here might be even bigger! So, you better learn how to take it like a good sissy!" My hand moved faster as I popped his cock back into my mouth, sucking greedily like it was a lollipop. "Bet you wish I would've sucked your dick like this, huh, widdle girl? Too bad it was too tiny to even find in your diaper!"

I just love when Charles takes control! I mean, feeling his strong hand on my head, pushing me down on his throbbing cock… it makes me feel so fucking good! He’s such a real man, he even held my head and was basically fucking my throat! Hearing him growl, "Fuck, slut, keep going!" made my pussy tingle. Like, oh my god, he was so dominant and demanding, ordering me to go faster, guiding my head up and down his massive dick. I get wet thinking about making him cum! And then, just as I was about to make Brandi's boss cum, right in front of her, there was a knock at the door. I might be a bit of an evil bitch, sure,, so I saw this as an opportunity for even more fun! I slowly took Charles' cock out of my mouth, teasing him right at the edge of his orgasm. The look on his face was priceless! I winked at him and mouthed for him to answer the door, promising to keep things fun. I gently gripped his throbbing cock, feeling its hardness and size. Holy crap, it was like the size of my arm! I bet Brandi was staring at it with her sad, tear-filled cucky eyes, realizing why she was in her Pampers while Charles was getting the royal treatment from me.

As Charles called out, "Who…is…it?" through gritted teeth, I smiled devilishly, knowing it was Chloe. I wanted to make this quick and fun, so I sped up my strokes, aiming to finish before our new friend arrived. Charles' cock was so big and veiny, and I could tell he was close the way it was twitching. It only took a few strokes for him to be gripping the desk, trying not to scream out loud. Just as he was about to explode, I directed his cock towards Brandi's pathetic little face and let a real man unload his massive cum loads all over her! It was like a fucking fire hose, I swear! Just load after load of cum landing on this poor, worthless little loser. Her cheeks, nose, and even in her hair, she was covered in cum! Her makeup was running down her cheeks and her lips and her tears were flowing again. I just knew snot wouldn’t be the only thing streaking her face today!

“Aww, see widdle Brandi, Mommy's got you a promotion!” I giggled as I gently wiped the excess jizz from my hands, onto her face. Charles let out a satisfied groan, all worn out and still pantless from our little playtime. I wrapped my lips around his cock one more time, loving the taste. Then like a proper lady, I stood up, straightened my dress, and helped him sit down. Pushing his chair gently up to him, I watched him down and groaned again. “Shh, I got this,” I giggled. There he was, my ex-boyfriend’s chiseled hunk of an alpha male boss, dazed from me blowing him, and naked from the waist down. His cock, covered in my saliva and his cum, was just inches from Brandi's gagged mouth. It was a sight that I'm sure Brandi would get used to, whether she liked it or not! As I quickly pulled my dress back over my tits, trying to act all casual and hide Charles' state, I called out; "come in!" to our little visitor. And, of course, who should it be but the lovely intern that Brandi started this whole adventure out by cheating on me with, but Chloe! I put on my brightest smile and greeted her with a cheerful and peppy; "hi, girl! You must be Chloe! I've heard so much about you!"

To Be Continued.

[saynotoshityouhate]

Hi you’ve asked for this and now you’re gonna get it. I want to come visit my boyfriend B. banner in the lab and tease him so badly he almost loses control and then we fuck lol 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Lab Tease

Words: 1679

CW: oral (m receiving), piv sex, little fluffy moments, Bruce calls y/n various sweet pet names.

A/N: Happy 30th Birthday to my dear sweet @ladyinwriting18 . I hope you enjoy your Hulk Smut. I love you dearly! (not beta read or proofread, errors are my own - oops)

Bruce had been spending all of his free time in the lab. You missed your boyfriend. He’d come home late at night, when you were already asleep, and leave before you woke up in the morning. He was so close to a breakthrough on his new project, and you wanted to support him, but you missed him.

You were tired of waiting for Bruce, and too wound up from all those nights alone. It was time to take measures into your own hands. You decided you were going to surprise him at work. You got dressed in his favorite summer sundress of yours, wearing your hair the way he liked, and spritzing your pulse points with perfume - a scent that he had once called “intoxicating.” You were giddy with excitement.

On the drive to the University where Bruce worked, you thought back on the past few weeks alone. You’d wake up when Bruce tried to sneak into bed, his weight shifting the mattress. He’d always apologize for waking you, but you didn’t mind. He’d snuggle in, holding you close and peppering your ear, neck, and shoulders with gentle kisses before passing out from exhaustion. Had he ever noticed the lacy lingerie you’d put on in the hopes he’d be home soon enough to tear it off of you? You shook your head, trying to get those sad thoughts out of your head.

You’d been to the lab once or twice before, so you knew how to navigate the hallways until you reached the heavy mahogany door that read “Banner Lab.” The surrounding walls were littered with art and letters from fans and admirers of your boyfriend’s alter-ego, The Hulk. You smiled, so proud of both sides of him. Carefully turning the doorknob, you pushed the door open. “Hello?” You whispered, not wanting to disturb - although that really was your purpose for being there. No one would be able to hear you anyways over the whir of machines and the faint classic rock playlist that came through the overhead speaker system.

Tiptoeing through the lab, you looked down each aisle, seeking out your dark and handsome beau. Eventually you found him, in a dark corner in the back of the room. His face was pressed into a microscope, hands delicately adjusting the dials on either side. You stood and watched for a moment, admiring his focus, the way his forehead furrowed his tanned skin, the grey streaks in his dark hair glistening in the otherwise horrifying fluorescent lighting. You cleared your throat loudly.

Bruce lifted his head from the microscope before grabbing his glasses from his breast pocket and placing them on the bridge of his nose. Looking up at you, he smiled. “Hi, you.” His voice was soft, a sign of how tired he truly was. You skipped towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. You were ravenous, taking Bruce by surprise. “Whoa, whoa, my darling, what’s going on, why are you here?” You played with the hem of your dress, suddenly self conscious and thinking you’d made a mistake. “I wanted to come surprise you, I thought you’d be happy to see me.” You looked down at your feet, pouting. “Oh, y/n, you know I’m delighted to see you! You know how busy I am though. Why don’t you head back home, I’ll see you when I get back. The lab is so boring, I’m sure you’ll get bored so easily hanging around here with me.” You pouted more dramatically now. You weren’t going to give up so easily.

“Come on, baby, I miss you…I need you,” you whined, standing between his knees, hands unbuttoning the top few buttons of his purple dress shirt. His hands gripped your waist, thumbs rubbing the soft places on your belly. “You know I can’t leave, precious girl. There’s nothing in the world I’d want more.” At this point, your hands were spread wide on his bare chest, the thick black hair intertwined between your fingers. You looked up into his eyes, batting your eyelashes and jutting out your bottom lip. “Pwease, Brucey? I’ll have you back here in thirty minutes.” You traced one finger down Bruce’s chest until you could delicately outline your well-endowed boyfriend through his pants. “I promise, Brucey.” He groaned, both out of frustration and arousal. “Fine. My office. Now.”

Bruce grabbed your hand, basically dragging you out of the lab and down the hallway to his private office. The smile on your face was so wide, your cheeks began to hurt. Bruce opened the office door, pulled you inside, and locked the door behind you both. Taking the hand he held so tightly, he pulled you into his chest. Your hands found his face, holding his plush lips close to yours. You moaned his name into his mouth. “It’s been too long, Bruce.” You moved your hands down his chest, reaching his belt, and began to unbuckle it. Peeling your lips from his, you knelt before him, quickening your efforts to free his length. His girthy cock sprung to attention before your eyes, eliciting a moan from both of you.

Taking the base in one hand, the other gripped on his thigh, your freshly manicured nails digging into his flesh. Slowly, teasing him, you placed hot, wet kisses along the length, avoiding his most sensitive areas. Bruce gripped his desk top for dear life, willing his legs to not give out. Seeing him already struggling made you so proud, and so wet yourself. You squeezed your legs together, trying to provide some relief to the ache between your legs. You licked along the underside of his cock, causing Bruce’s hips to buck. “Sh-shit, y/n, I-I need you. N-need your mouth.” That was all the encouragement you needed - you were happy to oblige. Relaxing your jaw, you took as much of him as you could. As you moved along his length you watched your boyfriend, his face turning purple with effort, forehead furrowed. You always kept an eye on the tips of his ears which, when extraordinarily aroused, would turn the faintest shade of green.

Bruce’s groans were getting louder, and more feral. His ab muscles (which by looking at him, you’d never know how ripped he actually was) were tightening. But then, Bruce pushed you off of him, causing you to lose balance and fall to the floor. You looked up at him, wide eyed and confused. Bruce scrambled to help you up. “Are you okay, darling? I’m sorry.” He had you up and standing now, turning you to stand pressed against his desk. “We don’t have much time, and I want to cum inside you.” He gripped your hips tightly and dove into your neck, biting and kissing down to your collar bones as he lifted the skirt of your dress. “Wanna fill you up, precious little one, want you to walk all the way back to the car with me dripping down your perfect thighs.” You moaned at his dirty comments. He wasn’t one for dirty talk, usually so sweet - but your time apart had made him a man obsessed. He needed you as badly as you needed him.

Having lifted your skirt, he saw how wet you had become, your panties entirely soaked through. He growled, ripping them down your legs. With one thick, calloused digit, he felt through your folds. “So ready for me, aren’t you, darling?” You whined, bucking your hips into his finger. “Please, Brucey, please.” Bruce smiled sweetly, caressing your face with his other hand. “Since you asked nicely.” He helped you lay back on the desk, your dress bunched up around your hips. Taking his weeping cock in hand, he aligned himself at your entrance. He’d usually take his time with you, allowing you to adjust to his sheer size. You didn’t need, or want time. “Need all of you, Bruce, please.” You whined again, now he was the one teasing you.

Bruce slowly entered you fully, pausing to enjoy your warmth and the harmony of both of your moans before establishing his pace. You knew he wouldn’t last much longer, given his earlier furocity and the moans and groans he had trouble holding back. You reached between you, drawing a gentle pattern on your sensitive bud, not needing much, as Bruce was hitting you perfectly. Your back was arched, your head lolling backwards.

Bruce cupped your face with one hand, bringing your attention back on him. His other gripped your thigh tight, leaving marks that would inevitably bruise. “Look at me, sweet girl, look at me.” He wiped an arrant tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Are you going to cum with me, my perfect angel?” You nodded, unable to form words, but your eyes stayed trained on his. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His perfect smile and his pride in you, his shining gem, was enough to send you over the edge, Bruce following close behind. With a loud, ferocious growl, Bruce filled you fully and completely before collapsing onto your chest.

Chuckling, you ran your fingers through his hair, kissing the top of his head. Holding him securely to your breasts as he descended from his high. “Bruce, I’m so proud of you, but I miss you. I miss us. I don’t like falling asleep without you.” Bruce’s head popped up enough to make eye contact with you. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I didn’t know how much it bothered you. I miss you so much, and think about you all the time. I’m going to make more of an effort, I promise. Especially if it means more time for this.” He nuzzled his face into your chest, eliciting a squeal and giggle from you. “I love you,” he mumbled into your chest. Petting his hair, you replied “I love you, more.”

You walked back to your car, thinking of all the ways you could make up for lost time, as your ruined panties failed to hold back the remnants of a surprise mission accomplished.

[baodurs]

i filled out this super cool button character profile by @extraordinarymage for sabrina! thank you for making this, it was a lot of fun to fill out <3 the bulk of it is under a cut and oh boy is it long !!!

Short, Quick Reference

Name: Sabrina Wiseman

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Love Interest: Kent

Main personality trait: Confidence

Secondary personality trait: Morbidity

Relationship with Nick: Full of love, haunted by unaddressed guilt and frustration. But mostly full of love.

Nickname for Nick: Saint Nick (used sparingly)

Resentful or accepting?: Slightly resentful

Main strategy (interpersonal, insightful, innovative?): Insightful

Ethical or expedient?: Expedient

GENERAL

Name: Sabrina Larkspur Wiseman

Nickname(s): Sab, used by anyone; Sabby, only Nick and Sally; and, of course, Button for Nick.

Birthday: I think I made her an October Libra for the purpose of a template I did months ago, but I’m not sure! No concrete birthday yet, I’m always very slow to nail down details like this.

Age: 20

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Hair color + style: Blonde. A little past shoulder length, sometimes wavy. Usually a middle part. For Aeon, tied back in a bun.

Eye color: Blue, entirely because of the section of Frank O’Hara’s “Meditations in an Emergency” that goes, “My eyes are vague blue, like the sky...”

Height: 5′5

Piercings: Multiple in each ear, but a couple have started to close.

Tattoos: None yet! Sab likes the idea of a tattoo but is worried about finding the perfect design, whether she’d end up hating it, that the pain might be greater than she expects and she’ll look like a baby in front of her tattoo artist. I’d like to think she eventually consults Sally and/or Glitch to come up with an idea that she falls in love with, but I haven’t come up with what that would be!

Clothing style: Mostly solid colors, not a lot of patterns. Nothing super bright, but a fairly varied mix of pastels, neutrals, dark colors, black. Partial to denim skirts and sweater tops. Ankle boots. Likes a good turtleneck. She’s bolder when it comes to formal wear, and especially loves suits. Big fan of silk and satin.

Since she has a pretty accurate face claim, I’ll link some gifsets I’ve rb’d for appearance ref if you are so inclined.

STATS

I’m always adjusting minor things and swapping scenes around, but these are from my most recent Sab run! Most scores hover somewhere around these values.

Personality:

Confidence: 53%

Humor: 5%

Morbidity: 22%

Resentful: 57% | Accepting: 43%

Strategy:

Interpersonal: 12%

Insightful: 50%

Innovative: 10%

Ethical: 43% | Expedient: 57%

KEY DECISIONS:

What is Nick’s nickname and why?: Saint Nick, used very rarely. It’s a joking reference to the time she thought Santa was an evil Ment out to ruin Christmas, and a point about Nick overdoing it with the cheer. “Saint Nick” is usually code for “I know you mean well, but please mind your own business.” Otherwise, she just calls him Nick.

What is their favorite type of cookie (and its name and why?): Salted caramel chocolate chip! No special name.

What was their initial reaction to Sally hugging them, as kids?: She just froze. That could just be me projecting adult Sabrina onto her childhood self; I don’t imagine that she was as uncomfortable around strangers or quite as cautious back then. But that’s what I’ll stick with.

How did they ace the ASE test?: The in-game option she takes is “My entire life has revolved around strategic avoidance,” but the one about being just plain smart also sounds like her. If Sab has the chance to thoroughly (over)prepare for something, she will do it. Her mind blindness also has her constantly (over)analyzing situations. So, hard work and relentless anxiety!

Did they manage to win their first assignment? How?: Yes, by having Sally block the door. I’ve headcanoned some slight differences in how it plays out, which I wrote about in-depth here. To summarize, Sab thinks of blocking the door as a desperate last resort, not a clever loophole, and she pushes back against Rosy’s praise because she wishes she could have done it the “real” way. Rosy goes from being impressed to being annoyed that she’s willfully missing the point.

What was the primary emotion Button felt during the Aeon bombing (love, gratitude, etc?): Guilt. She feels very guilty about how much Nick has given up for her in general, but I think that in the moment, it’s on a smaller scale. The fact that Nick was on the phone with her when it happened, coming to her rescue like always, becomes emblematic of their whole relationship for her, and she really fixates on that.

Who drove them home from the hospital from and why?: Glitch. Sab responds to her initial text with “Are you sure?”, and is relieved when Glitch takes that as “Yes, please.” She doesn’t relish the idea of being around someone more connected to her family or Nick at that point.

How do they feel about Nick riding around in their mind?: Worried, at first. Just because it’s so unknown and absolutely insane. After seeing Doctor Amari, she’s excited! Sab is thrilled to be a Pollard Five and intends to take full advantage of it. I am not looking forward to seeing how she reacts when that’s taken away from her.

Why did Button agree to do the undercover mission?: To prove she still deserves to be an MIV. Sabrina feels stupid and reckless for putting herself, Nick, and Aeon in this position, but she knows she’s smart, and she hasn’t worked this hard for nothing. She wants to prove what she could do with a normal Pollard Score and make herself too valuable to give up even when she’s back to Zero.

Told Glitch about your mind blindness?: Depends on the playthrough. I’m constantly going back and forth on whether Sab meets Glitch for coffee or wanders the city with Nick in her second chapter 5 slot (after trying to track down Kent). If she does meet Glitch, though, she absolutely tells her; with how touchy Sab is about privacy, she couldn’t stomach not warning Glitch that Nick could hear everything they said.

Figured out K’s secret?: Nope. She finds enough of the clues to be given the “I knew it!” option in-game, but she didn’t actually put it together. Sab is too angry and embarrassed by learning that Kent is an AMO to find any reason to interrogate it. “The random guy I met before school just happens to be a jerk” is a perfectly sound explanation to her.

Found Noh’s clues?: Not at the metro station. Sometimes she sees the Vengeance brooms in chapter 5 (again, depending on the playthrough), but that’s it.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP:

Love Interest: Kent

Why them?: Sab feels an immediate kinship with Kent after learning about the NPO program. It’s kind of funny how quickly he moves from the least sympathetic position in her eyes (Ment who got past me and read my mind without my knowledge) to the most sympathetic (non-powered child of a prominent family aiming a league above where he “belongs”). A lot of new respect for his competence. Her fate is sealed when she realizes that his kindness at the hospital wasn’t him trying to make up for some wrongdoing, but just him being very sweet. (She had scoffed over “You needed help.” But now she’s like, “Oh. He meant that?! Fuck.”)

As they spend more time together, Sab realizes how weirdly similar they are in other ways, too. And she starts to feel safe/secure around him in a way that she’s extremely not used to. Growing up surrounded by Ments, Sab has a lot of issues about being too much, too difficult, needing to “be worthy” of love. So someone like Kent who is not a Ment, who has no “obligation” to care about her, and whose judgement she trusts implicitly? Being around him and being loved by him mean a lot, and I think will go a long way towards helping her reflect on her other relationships!

What are their first impressions of each other?: Okay, there are like 3 first impressions with Kent. First: he’s tall and handsome and secretly adorable, and they have similar career goals, so she’s drafting a five-month plan to woo him and get his number. Second: he’s a lying, self-obsessed loser who owes her many explanations. Third: oh no, the first impression was true! And he’s been continually, selflessly kind to her in spite of her overt hostility. Scratch the five-month plan, because the crush was only fun when it was entirely superficial; now she really, really likes him and that just sucks.

We know that Button makes a good impression on K by stopping for their dogs, but apart from that... I mean, the “we confused each other” from chapter 7 is very apt. Sab has lots of shifting personas, and Kent sees pretty much every one within 24 hours. The prevailing impression before everything gets cleared up is probably just that she cares a lot? About everything? Her stopping for the dogs, how seriously she takes the first assignment, the way she seems so deeply affected by something he said or did that morning. It’s a rare side of her to meet first because she usually pretends to be above everything.

What feature does your Button find most attractive in their RO (ex. appearance, personality, etc.)?: Probably his composure. And his... steadfastness? The way he seems unruffled by anything, his soothing presence. She really admires that about him and finds the calm contagious.

What do they do to spend time together?: Going on drives together! Kent driving while Sab plays songs she thinks he’ll like, talking or not talking. Cuddling on the couch while reading their own separate books. Museum dates. Walking the dogs together.

Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: I imagine that the first month or so of their relationship would be difficult, just because they’re both bad at expressing themselves and not used to relying on other people. Kent kind of negates a lot of Sab’s impulses to get defensive or hostile, so instead of arguments, I think there are more likely to be awkward periods where she’s just stewing in something without addressing it. Most of their fights would be, like, one of them becoming really distant for a concerning number of days until the other tries to awkwardly check in on them.

What does their future look like?: Uhh some random lore: I think eventually they do get married, despite neither of them caring that much about it. Sabrina would be excited to have something to plan, and she knows it would make the people around her happy. They have a long engagement; there’s never really an “official” proposal, just an acknowledgement that yeah, they’ll get married one day, and then eventually they get rings. The engagement is almost Sab’s favorite part, honestly. She likes planning and showing off her ring and calling Kent her fiancé, a lot of fanfare on her part for a wedding that ends up being very modest and chill.

OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in depth!)

Relationship with Nick: When I first started developing Sab, I thought that with as difficult/prickly as she can be, her relationship with Nick would be worse than it is. Never bad, but certainly strained, with more jealousy/resentment on her side. However, she rejected this. She is resentful, but never towards Nick—she internalizes the negative parts of their relationship so they manifest as guilt instead. And that’s the problem, not resentment. Sab thinks he’s overprotective, but that doesn’t make her angry; it just makes her sad. She wishes things were different and he didn’t feel so responsible for her, but she also doesn’t know how she could manage without him taking on so many of her burdens. So, guilt! So much love, but always looming guilt.

Having Nick in her head has helped. It’s added a new kind of guilt (“I’m a horrible person for being so giddy that people can’t hear my thoughts even though that requires my brother to be in a coma”), but getting inside Nick’s head for once and really feeling his love for her changes things. Makes her feel way more secure, I guess? It’s easier to see her brother as human person, a friend who loves her, rather than a perfect selfless paragon who sacrificed everything to raise her, which is an important shift.

There are also Things happening with self-presentation in the fact that they’re both models, and flirts, and pretend to be shallow. And the ways that they’ve responded to vastly different expectations. And selflessness versus selfishness. But I have no idea how to talk about that yet.

Relationship with Father: Strained and distant. Sabrina doesn’t necessarily blame him for leaving, but she hates how he’s handled it. She’s incredibly frustrated that John insists on keeping them in this miserable limbo of uncomfortable visits, even though moving away was (to her) a tacit acknowledgement that she and her parents are better off without each other. He’s trying to force a relationship that Sab thinks is ultimately harmful for everyone involved. For Nick’s sake, she’s willing to grin and bear the visits, but it never works because John can obviously tell it’s an act. He pushes her, she gets defensive, and so on to infinity.

Relationship with Mother: Like with John, Sab doesn’t resent Hope for the incident itself, or for leaving afterward. It was terrifying, and the idea of being around Hope makes her panic—but she thinks of that as just another irrational anxiety symptom, and she’s trying to work through it. What she does resent Hope for is letting it get to that point at all. Sab is incredibly bitter that Hope will suffer silently to the point of almost killing her (during the incident) and potentially herself (with the BRS), while Sab has no choice but to be completely open. Especially because they’re so similar in that way—she’s almost jealous. “Oh, so your silence is allowed to almost kill me and it’s ‘nobody’s fault’ but I can’t pretend to enjoy a single lunch with Dad without him calling me out for lying?”

And even though she doesn’t hold the incident itself against her, Sab is very hung up on “Why are you never quiet? Why are you always there?” She knows, on some level, that this was not a Personal Judgement against her. But because Hope keeps so much quiet, this is the only honest expression of her mother’s feelings that she can remember! It would take a lot for Sab to believe that Hope was really, genuinely interested in reconnecting with her, rather than just pretending to love her "enough” this time because to do otherwise would reflect poorly on Hope as a mother.

Relationship with Sally: Besties <3 Sally is the only member of the Wiseman inner circle that Sab doesn’t have complicated feelings about. They both have hidden morbid streaks that they bring out in each other, and can laugh about. They both have competitive streaks that work well together because they’re always on the same team. And their wants/needs from the relationship complement each other well, I think. Sally has always felt valued because she’s useful and not because she’s loved, while Sab has always felt smothered by love/care without feeling like she genuinely adds value to other people’s lives. So it means a lot to both of them that they’re able to help each other practically, while also genuinely loving and supporting each other outside of that.

Relationship with Gray: Full of trust and genuine care, but predicated on distance. Sab loves him a lot for being so careful not to cross any boundaries, physical or emotional, with her. She’s grateful that he’s there for Nick in a way that she doesn’t feel she can be. But "I like Gray because he doesn’t push me and is good to Nick” means that any hand he extend makes her defensive, because she’ll either view him as an emissary of Nick or start to panic because their normal routine is being disrupted (she doesn’t tell him about Hope in ch 3, for example).

They get along very well in a friend-of-a-friend sort of way, and bond over being cautious counterparts to Nick. Also, Sab never had a crush on Gray, but she is not immune to tall superhero and thinks it’s fun to fake flirt with him. (You know Isabela’s “You have pretty eyes” routine from DA2? Sab does that to Gray when conversations steer towards things she’d rather not talk about.)

Relationship with Glitch: I’m really excited about these two! They click from the start, and Sabrina feels immediately comfortable around Glitch, which makes her feel distinctly uncomfortable whenever she catches herself. Externally, they have pretty different personalities, but they’re both perceptive and... socially manipulative? aware of their self-presentation?... in ways that they both pick up on right away. So it’s a lot of conversational maneuvering and trying to figure out what the other’s game is, while also genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

Relationship with Kent/Kenna: I could go truly insane here. See the romance section above instead.

Relationship with Kim: Sab wants him to like her sooooo bad. He’s one of the only people to ever really get through to her, re: my headcanon conversation after the first assignment. Authority figures tend to treat her as special, whether that’s negatively because of her mind blindness or positively because she’s such an overachiever. She had no idea how to respond to that not being the case (and didn’t handle it well at first), but chapter 6 solidifies her respect for him.

It also turns Rosy’s opinion of Sab around; he was impressed by her in class but left his office thinking she was self-absorbed and naive. But the bombing is a reality check, and her response is very measured and practical in a way that surprises him.

Relationship with Lev: She doesn’t mind the comparisons to Nick or the “maybe one day they’ll fix you” comments as much as you might think. They aren’t her favorite, but she prefers that sort of thing to the inspirational platitudes belied by coddling that she got from her family growing up. Sab has fond memories of Lev and is grateful that he’s always been kind to her, but doesn’t have any particular feelings apart from that.

Relationship with Clarence: Holds a grudge against him for causing a scene, making her late, and generally being a jerk. But she can’t fault him for being right, after what happened! Mostly she just wants to avoid him, but she’ll be thrilled to lord her success over him if/when she proves herself.

Relationship with Dean Branham: Like Rosy, another authority figure that Sab desperately wants to impress. But without the personal investment she has in Rosy’s validation, more “Oh, this person is in charge, so I should make her like me!” Despite Nick’s and Rosy’s reservations, Sabrina doesn’t really have a problem with being “strongarmed” or manipulated into cooperating; for now, she figures Branham was just doing her job and respects her tactics.

Relationship/attitude towards Ments in general: Mostly just uncomfortable and wary around them. Sab doesn’t want her mind read, and she figures that no Ment wants to be forced to read it either. So she has a pretty strict “no Ments” rule for close personal relationships (excluding Nick, Sally, and Gray, of course. But only Nick really counts because he’s the only one who can hear her thoughts whenever she’s nearby). Not out of hatred or resentment, just because she knows it will be easier for everyone in the long run.

Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): Not many, but yes! Sab dated around a lot in the 2 years before Aeon (more like year and a half, because she completely shut it down once she was more focused on preparing for the MIV program), but there are 2 relationships that were formative/important for her. A high school sweetheart, and someone Sab met through modeling. She doesn’t keep up with her high school ex, but the model is her best friend outside of Sally and Nick, and they still keep in touch! I’m still developing them/the relationships, and I’ll probably post more about them someday. They’re fun!

PERSONAL BIO

Describe their personality: Confusing and contradictory. She has two main modes that confuse people who meet both (e.g., Kent). She’s either cold, stuck-up, and sometimes hostile, OR she’s charming, frivolous, and sometimes flirty. Mode 1 is tense but stoic and inexpressive; mode 2 is seemingly relaxed but very posed and insincere. Mode 1 is for when she feels uncertain or has no agenda apart from “get to point B”; mode 2 is for when she’s more comfortable or trying to manipulate someone. Her actual personality is a bit closer to the second, but she doesn’t pretend not take things seriously or hide when she’s annoyed.

Strengths: Analytical, methodical, detail-oriented. Very driven and hardworking. May not always act like it, but does have social skills/charisma; a great liar, if you can’t read her mind. Unfailingly loyal and loving to her favorite people, so so so warm and affectionate and supportive if she really loves you. Very perceptive.

Weaknesses: Way too proud. Can be petty and vindictive. Self-absorbed (she doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’s hard for her to see past herself sometimes). Stubborn, hates being wrong. And... emotional isn’t the word, but strong negative emotions can really cloud her judgement. It ties into her being proud, petty, and stubborn; if she’s really upset about something, she can cling to that emotion instead of re-evaluating it or moving forward.

Phobias: From this ask about the phobias that are planned to show up in-game, there are a few that I could see fitting Sab, but I want to wait to see how they’re implemented before I fully commit. Which is very metagame-y, I know (and I am very metagame-y about IF), but “fear of X” is so broad that it really does depend on when/how it manifests in the text.

That being said, agoraphobia is almost a lock; crowds do make Sab very anxious if she can’t keep track of everyone within a certain distance, and if she can’t leave when she starts feeling antsy. Claustrophobia is a maybe. The choice that triggers it (in chapter 4, about hating MRI machines) suits Sab, but I’m not sure if she hates MRI machines because she hates tight spaces, or if it’s more related to her general anxiety about hospitals, medical tests, etc. Which she definitely has!

What activities/club did they do in school?: She avoided anything group-oriented as far as possible. She took piano (maybe violin?) lessons and did recitals, but wasn’t in orchestra. The one exception was maybe National Honor Society or some equivalent, which she would have joined for her resume’s sake. And I think she would have tutored!

Where do they escape to when they need space?: A little used library corner, where she can people watch without being seen/heard.

How do they feel about/cope with their mind blindness?: Sab hates it but tries not to dwell on it. She knows that it’s no one’s fault, and she mainly just tries to... minimize it? Drown out her thoughts, limit her contact with Ments. And, least healthily, very rigidly managing herself. Because there’s so much of her that exists outside of herself, without her control, she tries to either filter or completely suppress everything else. Part of why she got into modeling, she can perform and be perfect and have total control over the final product of her body in the photographs for whatever campaign. Some Day This Will Be Better. But definitely not where she is in current canon.

How has your Button changed since the Incident with Hope?: Developed many new anxieties and disorders and syndromes :) She also became way more self-conscious, as in literally conscious of and way more tightly monitoring herself, what she’s thinking, what she’s expressing, how she’s sitting, etc. Less emotive face, more rigid posture.

If they weren’t an Aeon student, what would they be doing?: Sab would have beaten herself up forever if she “proved everyone right” by avoiding Unity/Ments entirely, so she’d want to stay in the family business somehow. She probably would have ended up doing scientific research on mental agility. Maybe even working for Mirrortech or some other biotech company, which I imagine would have been an interesting conversation to have with the family.

RANDOM FACTS:

Zodiac sign: Like I said, I assigned her Libra months ago for the sake of a template. But I don’t know enough about astrology to commit. Libra or Leo, probably.

Hobbies: Music, reading poetry, “cooking” (i.e., sitting on the counter and not helping while Nick makes dinner)

Likes: Watching other people (Nick) play video games, dressing up, taking long showers/baths, dark chocolate with caramel, back hugs

Dislikes: Being patronized, hot weather, going to the doctor, driving, doing anything she is not good at

Type of bedsheets: Bamboo.

Drink of choice: Cucumber mint lemonade! For hot drinks, some kind of caramel coffee. For alcohol, she refuses to get drunk because she’s terrified of having even less control of her mental broadcast, but at home/around people she trusts she’ll have a glass or two of wine. Doesn’t know enough to be picky, but doesn’t like it too sweet.

Favorite food: Probably some pasta dish Nick makes with asparagus and tomatoes and a lot of garlic.

Favorite color: Like a light turquoise!

Favorite music: Music to her was another mind-shielding tactic before anything else, so she tends to like upbeat-ish electronic/pop stuff. Catchy and repetitive, and/or with lots of personality to drown out her own thoughts. On the other end of the spectrum, she does have a soft spot for crackly, lo-fi, old or old-sounding slow songs—something about fuzzy recordings simulating a weak telepathic signal.

Favorite season: Hmm, spring and autumn are both good. She likes either side of winter.

Anything else you’d like to share: My heart and a long, fulfilling marriage, with anyone who reads all this 💍

[13thsongbird]

Sometimes, you just start sewing and something amazing comes out. I literally don’t have any other explanation for this dress – it was not something I planned or sketched out, or even thought about very hard. I’d been planning to hack Mimi G’s Jessica Dress pattern to make my own version of an Old Navy sundress I love (mine is a denser, bluer blue-and-white pinstripe, but it’s the shape and the shirred back I was after), but I’d only gotten as far as putting together the pdf and thinking abstractly about fabric choices. Then, less than a week before my ten-year high school reunion, I realized that the dress I was planning to make and wear was going to require waaaaay more pattern adjustments than I had expected or had time for (McCall’s M7745 – woven wrap dresses and my upper body don’t play nice, I’ve found), and I started frantically surveying my options. My eyes fell on the Jessica pdf, and a stack of colorful cotton triangles left over from the bunting I made for my roommate’s birthday.

And for some reason, that clicked. PATCHWORK! That was the answer to my time-crunch sewing dilemma!

(Spoiler alert: it was not.)

After a few days of frantically sewing in every spare moment, I had to throw in the towel and admit I wasn’t going to finish the dress before flying home to Ohio. Also, the crayon-like intensity of the colors and the potential poufiness of the three-tiered skirt I was planning started to make me doubt whether the finished product was something I’d want my high school classmates to see me in after all these years. Chastened, I bought a very pretty dress from TJ Maxx and left town for a week, although in the back of my mind I kept going back to my patchwork strips. It wasn’t even that they’d taken a long time to sew (which they did), it was the play of the colors and the clean intricacy of the triangles and the seams. I had dialed back my initial instinct to make the top out of different colors as well, sticking with the orange-ish ochre color that felt like the midpoint between the brights and darks, so the skirt was going to be the star, and something about it was calling to me.

Once I was back from my trip, I wasted very little time before diving back in, adding more repeats of my color pattern into each layer to up the swish factor and gathering like a madwoman. I also added more shirring rows to the back panel – this was my first time shirring, and initially I’d spaced my rows way too far apart to adequately gather and hold my fabric. This time I got it right! And the lining of the shirred panel is bright red, so it peeps over the gathered top of the panel for a really fun pop of color. Once I had the shirring sorted and all three tiers gathered, I raced to try it on and I fell. in. love.

It isn’t even hemmed yet here! The lining hasn’t been attached at the waist! The ribbon straps are held on at the back with basting stitches, and the bust point is clearly set too high for my boobs. And yet… it’s absolutely perfect, just as it is in this picture. Once I fixed and finished those little things, it was resplendent. And I managed to finish it just in time for New York City Pride! I can’t tell you how it felt, walking through such a sea of joy and glitter in this dress that I made, but some of these pictures might give you something of an idea:

  I’ve lived in New York for nearly four years now, and this was the first time I was able to get out onto the streets on the day of the Pride parade, and let me tell you: it is EVERYTHING! My friends and I couldn’t even get close to the parade itself because of the crowds, but you almost didn’t need to – the entire city was infused with this amazing energy, and there were crowds of people everywhere you went decked out in rainbows and identity flags and their best and brightest expressions of themselves. Being able to be a part of that crowd, and celebrate how beautiful people are because of their sexuality and gender identity and many, many differences – it was electric and utterly indescribable.

Details: Bodice pattern modified from Mimi G’s Jessica dress, size XL (added 3/4″ to the length of all pieces, removed front button closure in favor of a center seam, added 4″ of width to the center back panel and shirred it with elastic thread in the bobbin), skirt made up out of the ether and my crazy brain; fabric all quilting cotton and cotton-poly blends from my local Astoria fabric shop; I personally am 5’11” with a 43″ bust and a 35″ waist.

TUTORIAL TIME!

And for those of you that are as crazy as I am and want a patchwork skirted dress of dreams to call your very own, here’s how I did it! As stated above, I used the Jessica dress bodice, largely because it was already the shape I was looking for, but really you could use any paneled bodice that suits your fancy.

(Sorry to my visual learners – I might try to add pictures to this tutorial at some point, but for now it will just be textual.)

First, color selection – I went with six because I already had them picked out for the bunting, but really you can do any number and gradation you want. The important thing to remember is that if you use an odd number, then each color will alternate which edge it shows up on, whereas using an even number means the same colors will always be on the same edge. A larger number of colors will mean more options for a gradual shift between colors, as well, while sticking to just two or three will keep things visually simpler. For my second dress (yes I’m already making another), I’ve chosen jewel tones that remind me of a geode and gemstones in shades of purple, magenta, and teal.

Second, determine the finished length you want from your skirt, relative to where the waistline of your bodice hits. In my case, I was actually working with fabric I’d pre-cut into triangles for a different project, but by happy accident when I assembled them into tiers and hemmed them, they gave me a perfect just-above-the-knee length of 23″. Add an inch for hemming, then divide your finished length by three. Take that length and add in an inch for seam allowance – since I was using the Jessica pattern, I stuck with Mimi G’s 3/8″ SA, but allowing a full 5/8″ for where the points of the triangles come together and overlap on the angle. The resulting measurement  will be the height of your triangles. My triangles were 9″ tall.

Third, based off of the height of the triangles, you can determine the width – I went with a 2:3 ratio, so for 9″ tall triangles, my width was 6″. Going forward, I’m going to be referring to these measurements, but know that if your ideal skirt requires different measurements, you can just plug them into anywhere I use 9″ or 6″.

Fourth, it’s time to mark and cut your triangles. Either draw parallel lines running the width of your fabric 9″ apart, or tear your fabric into 9″ strips – I went with the latter because that way I knew my triangles would for the most part be on grain. At the bottom of the strip, starting on whichever side you like, place a mark every 6″ all the way across. At the top of the strip, place a mark 3″ in from the side you started marking from, then measuring from that mark place a mark every 6″ all the way across. At this point, you can either mark diagonal lines with a ruler and chalk and cut your triangles out with scissors, or do as I did and line up your clear plastic ruler diagonally between marks and use a rotary cutter. I’d recommend the latter because it is both faster and more accurate!

As far as how many triangles to cut, it’s going to largely be determined by your proportions and how full you would like your skirt to be. For myself, my tiers were built in multiples of my six-color repeat – the top tier was 5, the middle tier was 7, and the bottom tier was 9, resulting in a total of 21 triangles of each color and 126 triangles overall. If you’re much smaller than I am (see my measurements above), you’ll likely want to reduce the number of repeats in your tiers (unless you want a super gathered waist) while maintaining roughly those proportions, and if you’re much larger, you might want to increase your repeats in the same way.

(This is also where, if you’re more organized and/or neater than I am, you could serge or zig-zag the edges of every triangle to finish them neatly; however, the long sides of the triangles are on the bias and thus won’t fray significantly once sewn, and if I ever feel the short ends are making the inside of my skirt look untidy, I can always serge the seam allowances between the tiers in three fell swoops rather than spending a lot of extra time serging 126 triangles. But you do you!)

Fifth, stack your triangles in order of the color gradient you’ve decided on – you can decide whether you prefer to stack each color separately and just arrange those stacks in order, or stack each individual triangle in order in one big stack, but either way I highly recommend not skipping this step because it makes the assembly process much smoother.

Sixth, now that you’ve got your triangles sorted, it’s time to cut out your bodice and lining! I used all one color for the outer shell of my bodice, so I needed a little bit more of that fabric than the others, but the lining I cut from whatever I had left from any of the colors. You could also do a contrast lining of your choice, especially on the back panel, since the shirring means you’ll see a little bit of the lining at the top.

For the center back panel, you’ll need to add width to accommodate the gathering you’ll be doing with your elastic shirring. Do a test run and see how much your fabric contracts once shirred, and use that to determine how much to add in order to get the same finished width after shirring. I added in about 4″.

Seventh, sew your center back panel and center back lining panel together along the top edge, and press with wrong sides together. Using a ruler and the marking tool of your choice, draw parallel horizontal lines 1/2″ apart all the way down, starting from the top edge and ending at least 3/8″ from the bottom edge to avoid running shirring into your waistline seam allowance.

Eighth, using elastic thread in the bobbin and increasing your stitch length, carefully sew along each of the lines you’ve just drawn, backstitching at the beginning and end of each seam. I followed this Seamwork tutorial on shirring and found it super clear and helpful!

Ninth, assemble your bodice according to the pattern instructions, treating your shirred panel as the center back piece for the outer shell. You’ll need to attach the lining to the shirred panel at the side back seams; use your preferred finish here.

Tenth, back to your skirt! Now you assemble your triangles into rows. I went with a roughly 1/4″ seam allowance to reduce bulk and minimize fabric waste, and pinned each seam before sewing just as a precaution to avoid differing bias stretch between two pieces. Alternate which side the base of the triangle is on, and line up seam lines rather than fabric edge – this means you will have little bits of each triangle hanging over at each end, but your seam line should meet the cut edge of the fabric.

Pressing as you go will make things neater and help everything line up properly, but depending on your iron setup I know that can be incredibly annoying. I compromised by finger-pressing all my seams as I went, and then doing a pass with the iron after I’d finished each row. I pressed the seam allowances together and alternated which direction I pressed them in, but honestly as long as they’re pressed it doesn’t much matter how you do it. Personal preference!

Eleventh, join your rows into tiers – once you’ve completed as many repeats of your color pattern as you need, make sure your fabric isn’t twisted and bring your two end triangles together. Sew the seam as you have the others, and press. Now you have one big loop of fabric! It’s your first tier! Do the others, and marvel at how much patchwork you’ve just completed. Pet it a little. You did good.

Twelfth, mark each tier in quarters, then sew two rows of basting stitches around the top of the tier at 1/4″ and 1/2″, cutting your thread and beginning again at each pin. With the incredible length of the tiers, especially once you get to the final layer, gathering them in sections will make your life soooooo much easier. You can make the sections even smaller if you’d like!

Thirteenth, mark the center front, center back, and the side seams of your bodice at the waistline, and pin your first tier, matching up your quarters with those points on the bodice. Personally, I then found the midpoint between each of those and pinned those as well, giving me eight points of contact between skirt and bodice before I even started gathering – I find this makes things easier and ensures more even gathers.

Fourteenth, pull on the ends of your basting stitches to gather the skirt, wrapping the basting thread in a figure eight around the nearest pin when you’ve achieved the right length. Distribute the gathers as evenly as possible, and then pin the ever-living crap out of it. Do this all the way around the waistline, and then sew at 3/8″ SA.

(Make sure that you stretch out the shirred panel when you are gathering and sewing the waistline – you will have way fewer gathers in the skirt there, but the contraction of the elastic will do that gathering on its own when it springs back, and if you attempt to gather the skirt normally to the already-gathered shirring, you’ll lost all the stretch you put into the waistline and won’t be able to get it over your head.)

Fifteenth and Sixteenth, follow those same steps to join the second and third tiers to the  bottom of the skirt.

Seventeenth, turn up the bottom edge of the skirt a scant 1/2″, then another more generous 1/2″, and press. If you’re in a hurry like I was (I hemmed this skirt literally right before leaving the house to go to the Pride parade), you can topstitch the hem at 3/8″ in a color that roughly coordinates with the majority of the colors you’ve chosen. If you’re willing to spend a little more time on a cleaner finish, you can hand-stitch the hem using the invisible-from-the-outside stitch of your choice.

And that’s it! Now go put on your party dress and do a twirl, because this skirt is MADE for twirling!

My Pride Dress + Tutorial! Sometimes, you just start sewing and something amazing comes out. I literally don't have any other explanation for this dress - it was not something I planned or sketched out, or even thought about very hard.

[lickmeleclerc]

|Falling Short| H.H {Chapter 1}

Characters :Highschool!Harry Holland x Y/n (female reader)

Summary: Y/n & Harry were inseparable hence the verb were. Near the end of 8th year they started to drift apart, Now Senior year of high school they’ve completely been out of each other's lives for three years. This is a normal occurrence with friendships but not so much for two people who have been best friends since the age of two and happen to live next door to each other. What event can reunite them?

Playlist: Here

Warnings: ITS LONG AF RIP none yet, angst maybe ?

Harry did the same thing on the first day of school every year. Late. He quickly brushes his teeth and runs a comb through his curly hair. Then throws on some joggers and a T-shirt before leaving to go pick up his girlfriend. Like he always does. As he exits his house he spots On walking to her car, still his neighbor and still aware of all the memories he’s had with her he finds it odd she’s only in shorts and a maroon top. In the past she’d call him the night before and talk for hours about what to wear before arriving at his house for their end of Summer sleepover. That night they’d compare schedules and goals for the upcoming year. That’s the past though. As she steps in her car his brown eyes land on a sizeable bruise on her calf and wonders what daredevilish stunt she was up to, to get that. It's a strange thought for him to know so much about someone but not call them a friend or even an acquaintance. With a quick glance he watchs Y/n pull away from the curb and in the direction of their high school. Maybe it’s the thought of senior year and he’s focussed on reminiscing but he can’t seem to shake Y/n from his mind this morning.

A loud honk blares from the left as Harry starts to pull from the shoulder of the road, he turns quickly as a car speeds past.

"Jackass!" The stranger yells with his middle finger up. Harry just rolls his eyes with a sigh and continues on with more caution to his girlfriend’s.

Y/n speeds to her high school her lead foot not failing her today. The music blares through the small speakers and a smile is on her face at the thought, this will be the last first day of school. Ever. And then her life can truly begin. She’s been pinning after a soccer scholarship since freshman year and to say she is good is an understatement. It’s not a fond memory to Harry but Y/n would kick his little seven year old ass at soccer in her backyard when they were kids. She’d have to bring him a popsicle and apologize for gloating to cheer him back up.

Harry’s brakes squeak as his silver hatchback comes to a halt in front of his girlfriend. She has arms crossed and a foot tapping the ground.

“You’re late.” She mumbles as she slams the door her long braided hair flips over her shoulder as she still holds a scowl. Harry only gives a sigh in response as he switches the gear back to drive. Julie sits up and cranks the radio as Blink-182s ‘I Miss You’ starts.

“What’s your schedule like babe?” He asks making conversation as the song ends. He glances at her from the corner of her eye and shes her opening her binder where he sees her laminated schedule with color coded highlights.

“First is chemistry.” She answers looking it over and making sure her binder is in order.

“Damn that's rough. I have english.” He continues speaking as he pulls into a parking space. Julie has always had more advanced classes than him, he met her when he needed a tutor freshman year and he considered himself lucky when she said yes to a first date.

 "Let's go see John and Kathy before the bell rings." She excitedly yells while getting out of the  car faster than her ever seen. Kathy and John are their couple. Like in The t.v series 'How I Met Your Mother' the episode where Lily and Marshall are trying to find a couple for them to be friends with and go on double dates with. John and Kathy are Harry and Julie’s couple. Julie and him hadn't been able to see them all summer long because their families took a three month long trip to the Caribbean islands. The instagram photos looked incredible and Julie gave Harry an earful over their ‘boring’ summer. Harry rolled his eyes when she showed him the photos, of course he’d love a vacation there but not for the five star hotels and swedish massages but for the sunsets the light blue ocean. He’d get the most memorable photographs.

"Kathy!" Julie exclaims as she spots the blonde in a pink summer dress seated at the usual lunch table they all occupied since they’ve become friends. Harry spots John and nods to him but not speeding his pace up to greet him. Before he reaches them his eyes land on movement behind him. Y/n is in the arms of Kyle Buchanan. He blames Kyle for the split and the changes he’d seen develop in her once they began their relationship. He can remember the day clearly just like Y/n’s 6th birthday.

“Hey Y/n meet my buddy Kyle, he’s in my film class.” Harry introduced the blonde haired blue eyed boy to his best friend. A blush crept onto her cheeks and her posture shifted, only Harry could pick up on it.

“Hey. Wow not to be forward but can I just say you’re beautiful. I’d love for you to be a model for me sometime.” As those words left Kyle’s mouth he could see Y/n swooning. And then Harry saw his true colors and he’d do anything to protect Y/n, he promised.

"Please stay away from him Y/n he's bad news." He begged as she sat on the edge of his bed anger and confusion written on her face.

"You set us up and now you want me to Break up with him?" her voice just under a yell.

"Please for me. He's gonna hurt you and I'm gonna have to pick up all the pieces!" He bursts hinting at the past. That set a flame off in Y/n leading to an explosion like the string to a firecracker.

"You're just jealous!" There's the first shout between them. A first fight even so.

"Me jealous of him dating you? Please." harry scoffs turning from looking out the window to glare at her. Why would he be jealous? What was Y/n implying?

“You think he's bad news and changing me? Just look at you! You've never treated me like this before!" The angry girl stands now.

"Yeah well people do change and at least I'm not changing cause I want someone's popularity status!"

"You know what Harry? I hate you!"

"The feelings mutual."

With that she stormed out of his house and that was the last time they had a full conversation  together

"Earth to Harry!" Julie giggles pulling him from his sad thoughts as she slides an arm through his crossed one and leans on his shoulder. A smile on her lips as she looks up at him through her lashes. He blinks rapidly and turns to face her, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Sorry. What'd I miss?" He laughs lightly excusing his loss of attention as he glances at Y/n once more. He eyes her as she giggles with Kyle and his friends. Julie and Kathy explain lunch plans.

Y/n feels the warmth of Kyle’s hands on her lower back as she faces him, they both are holding eye contact and laughing. She leans up and kisses the corner of his mouth and cheek.

“That was cute.” He laughs pulling her closer as she scrunches her nose up. The warning bell for the start of first breaks them apart and they go their separate ways to their proper classes.

Harry waltzes into his English class and takes a seat by the window. He spots a class running laps around the track and what looks like a few students skipping class as they sit by a tree on their phones. Writing along with photography is some of Harry’s biggest passions. He recalls when him and Y/n use to write their adventure stories along with the princess fantasies. He was prince Harry and Y/n obviously princess Y/n. That’s what built his love for writing, Y/n showing him the fun in it. As he turns from the window and glances around the classroom he spots some of his old classmates from last year and some of his buddies. As the bell rings a flash of red bolts into the room taking a seat in the back, but without seeing the face he knows who it is, Y/n.

"Happy first day class. I'm Mrs.Hall." The teacher introduces herself to the class. She’s a fairly older women with already set wrinkles on her forehead and she’s dressed like a librarian. A skirt below the ankle and a long sleeve with a dressy vest over it in all muted gray tones. Harry is starting to sense she’s not going to make english fun.

"I don't want any funny business in this classroom. Rule one; no phones or iPads this is an English class we're using pen and paper. Rule two; no gum chewing or talking while I'm talking. Rule three; when I do assign partners or make seating charts there is no exceptions or changes." The woman smiles but not a kind one, it was evil. Then adjusts her glasses on the bridge of her nose and grabs a clipboard off her desk. Harry’s feeling what definitely right about her. With a sigh he crosses his arms and leans against his desk.

"Let's get to work then, I'm not into 'get to know me games' on the first day of school, I'll get to know you by the work you turn in and you'll get to know me by how I grade and act towards you. Your first assignment of the year is a partner reading book report. Yes, I have already assigned partners." Mrs. Hill instructs as her beady eyes skim over the class sitting before her. She licks her thin lips then speaks again.

"When I call out you and your partners name please introduce yourselves and sit with them." She continues as she holds the clipboard up to read aloud.

"Stacy d. and Jack b."

"Luke w. and Luke m."

"Jane w. and Beckett o."

"Harry H. And Y/n Y/l/n."

After Harry and Y/n’s name was called out to be partners his jaw drops. He almost wants to laugh along with it, yes he’s seen many rom coms and he never thought he’d be in one of the biggest tropes of them. He was nervous though to turn around and face her.He also wasn’t ready to be partnered with her for at least a week doing a project together. He already knows what book she’ll choose, ‘Perks of Being a Wallflower.’ It’s been her favorite book for a long time, well as long as he can remember. Finally Harry forces himself to turn. Her facial expression mirrors his but once they make eye contact she collects her belongings and moves to the empty chair beside him.

"Hi I'm Y/n." She says pulling a fake smile at him but her dimple on her cheek still pokes out. Harry doesn’t know any better way to respond.

"Hey, I'm Harry." He replies and sticks his  hand out for her to shake going along with whatever crazy idea is in Y/n’s mind. As she grabs his hand and shakes it Harry feels comfortable by her touch. He holds a small smile on his face as they continue to shake hands, neither of them stopping it. Y/n starts to giggle and slowly pulls away.

"So I recommend we do the book 'Catcher and the rye' by J.D Salinger"  She suggests opening up to the first page in her notebook. For the second time in this class, Harry is in shock.

"I was thinking a more personal book like 'Perks of being a Wallflower' by Stephen Chbosky." He interjects while grabbing a notebook from his bag that lays next to him on the floor. As he turns back to look at her she wears this look on her face, a small sprout of a smile playing on her lips, it  looks like she's reminiscing on a fond memory. Harry holds back a smug smirk, his quick thinking worked and a feeling of hope stirs in his mind.

A smile starts to grow on his face stares at her, she looks the same as when they were young but her features are so much more mature now. Her eyes still a mix of colors and at a time once Harry replied to the question,” What's your favorite color?” With “Y/n’s eyes.”. Her nose structure slightly different due to the baseball accident where Harry accidentally struck her with a baseball bat when they were ten, but that imperfection made her face so much more unique and beautiful. Her lips were a soft shade of red only because her favorite Chapstick is cherry kool-aid that always stains her lips. She never got braces like Harry did, But to Harry her crooked teeth add so much to her character.

"You remembered?" She softly speaks drawing him out of the trance of admiring her looks he found himself in.

"It's not something you forget easily when every sleepover we've ever had you made me watch the movie." He jokes. Y/n finds herself staring at his unique birthmark. The two hold their gazes maybe a moment too long before returning to the task at hand.

"Uhm. I think that's a great choice." She finally speaks looking away from her old friend and writing it down in her notebook. Harry copies her actions and his cheeks flush some from embarrassment at his hand writing or more likely, chicken scratch. His mind registers that him and Y/n just had a moment? Maybe his cheeks are flushed for a different reason.

Mrs.Hall comes around passing out a paper of the requirements and a list of questions that would need to be answered to complete the project after the book of our choice is chosen. She seemed found BY/n. Harry could tell but he wasn’t surprised by it. She’s very likeable.The bell rang dismissing everyone and Y/n didn’t even take time to say a goodbye she quickly left the room for her next class. Harry slowly packed his stuff and headed out his brown eyes searching for Y/n.

The next three of Harry’s classes were physics, calculus, and weight training. Thanks to Julie tutoring him he was actually catching on to what the syllabus said and understanding how the procedures in class would go. In weight training the ‘get to know me’ game was an intense game of tag. The teacher was very laid back and Harry was coming to the conclusion this would be his favorite class for the year. He caught his breath by leaning his hands on his knees as the bell rang and the teacher blew his whistle signalling the students back inside. He watched his shoes crunch down on the grass as the fall weather seemed to be coming too soon this year.

"Hey cutie." Harry smiles into Julie’s blonde hair as he shakes his arms around her middle. A giggle emits from her mouth as she leans into his chest. She smells like vanilla and Harry can't seem to get enough of it.

“Stop!” She giggles and squirms to get away from his puppy dog like sniffing. A wide smile breaks across his face at her actions and he finally lets her go. For the first time today Y/n is not on his mind.

"Ready for Panera?" She asks as our hands subconsciously interlock as we exit through the back side door in the direction of the parking lot.

"You know it." Harry answers as his eyes travel over her. The new short blonde hair she cut last week floated behind her back as a gust of wind came by and her dark blue eyes squinted in the sun. Harry could gasp at her beauty and he can't fathom how he got so lucky to be able to call Julie Fields his girlfriend.

"Why are you staring at me?" She furrowed her eyebrows and held up a hand to give her eyes a break from the Sun's bright rays.

"Because I have the right to stare at my beautiful girlfriend." Harry answered wittily and pulled her into a kiss. Heer smile forced them to pull apart. This time Julie was admiring his features and he could by the way her eyes raked across his face and fell back to his eyes.

"I love you." She softly speaks watching for his reaction. These three words aren’t a common occurrence between this couple. They save these words for intimate moments.

"I love you too." The boy in her arms answers and slides his thumbs into the belt loops of her denim shorts pulling her flush against his hips then moving his hands into her back pockets. Harry had to admit he is an ass guy. As their mouths connected again into a deeper kiss Harry couldn’t help but feel guilty for telling her he loved her. Can he love someone if he doesn’t even know what love is. He resolved in his mind to say he loves her because maybe he’ll figure it out with her.

"Gross get a room!" A voice yells directed toward the pair lip locking. Immediately they pulled apart from each other at the thought it was the principle but quickly ended up laughing as their eyes landed on John and Kathy.

"Let's hit it." John yelled as him and Kathy got closer to the car. Harry rolls his eyes at John for his childish antics as he unlocked his car.

Y/n spotted the scene between Harry and Julie through the fence that blocks the grassy area from the parking lot. A confused expression appears on her face she expected them to be broken up by now, Harry was never the best with relationships but maybe Julie had changed that for him. She turns back and faces the group around her and Kyle.His hand in on her bare thigh and she spost the bruise on her calf, she questions how that appeared but shrugs it off as a soccer injury.

“How’s soccer Y/n?” A friend asks after taking a bite of the schools famous lasagna. The only hot lunch option that is actually good.

“Good! I have tryouts after school today!” Y/n answers happily and leaning on Kyle’s side. He’s lost in conversation about wrestling with his guy friends. After the two became a couple Kyle didn’t attend film class as much as he use too, he became more of a jock. It almost bettered their relationship because they understand the dedication and effort it takes to be on a team. The weekly dates never suffered through. He turns to her and places a soft kiss on her forehead. Before they can lean in and fully kiss the bell rings ending lunch and leaving them a mere six minutes to get to class.

The Spanish four room is decked out. Posters of all the Spanish speaking countries plastered on the ugly white walls, flags of all the countries hanging from the ceiling. Making the classroom very vibrant with color. The desks were in groups of four and so far Harry’s eyes don’t spot anyone familiar. He chooses to sit at an unoccupied desk hoping a friend would walk through the door. He sets his half full soda on the corner of his desk and checks his phone before class starts. Chester enters with Emily trailing behind, he claps a hand on Harry’s shoulder as he sits beside him.

“How’s it going man?” He starts the conversation as Emily sits with them. His photography club friends are a good crowd if only Julie liked hanging out with them. Before Harry can answer Y/n quickly enters the room a bright smile on her face, he can only wonder if it’s about seeing him. She takes the last empty seat beside Emily and smiles at the table group.

"Y/n! Oh my god I haven't seen you in ages! How've you been?" Emily asks a huge smile on her face. Emily is always overly friendly and doesn’t like silence so she starts the conversation quite frequently.

"I'm great! How are you?" Y/n answers with the same smile she entered with. Harry answers Chesters question but still listens in on Emily and Y/n.

"Amazing!" Emily says back smacking her gum as she continues texting. Y/n decides thats the end of their conversation and turns her attention to the beanie wearing freckle faced boy across from her.

"Chester how've you been?" Y/n asks turning her face away from Emily to face her across from him.

“I’m good, thanks for asking." He smiles and gives her the nod. The 'nod' is what guys do when they're interested in a girl, doesn't he know she's taken? What a douche move. Harry’s thoughts run wild at their interaction, it causes him to shake his head trying to disperse the thought and Y/n all together from them. When his looks back up Y/n’s eyes flick away from him. She was watching him.

"Y/n, if there's any partner projects you're my partner." Chester says quickly as the teacher welcomes the class. Y/n shakes her head yes and smiles. Harry’s chest feels weird watching her smile, he can’t deny that he misses being the reason behind it.

"Hola me llamo señora Carlos. Trabajar con sus grupos para responder a estas preguntas." Señora Carlos got straight to work with the class as she instructed everyone to work with our groups to answer questions she brought up in a powerpoint. It was simple questions, like what we did this summer, what's are favorite color, are parents names, ect. As the class begins working Señora turns on some Spanish music that's quite catchy, HArry catches himself slightly moving to the beat and mouthing some of the words he can pick up on.. Y/n locks eyes with him and holds in a laugh, she’s mimicking his actions.  As the chorus rolls around again the two wildly lip sync together entertaining their group.

"I think you two need to do that for the talent show!" Senora Carlos claps toward us. She obviously watched the two ‘perform’ A blush casts itself over Y/n’s cheeks and Harry just laughed.

"No way!" Y/n objects with a shake of her head as she returns to her work.

"I don't know Y/n I think we'd win." Harry jokes nodding over dramatically. She shakes her head back and forth again signalling ‘no’  with a final laugh and her smile fading. Another moment ending too soon. The rest of class Y/n and Harry did not talk but Harry kept looking for ways to interact with her more. Before Harry could though Senora was dismissing everyone.

"Adios clase!" Señora Carlos smiles as everyone exits her class as the bell rings. She's so expressive in her hand motions and facial expressions which makes Harry stifle a chuckle as he walks past her.

"Hey Harry." A deep voice calls. The red head quickly side steps out of the way of the crowded hallway of students rushing to their next class and standby the drinking fountain. Kyle steps in front of him holding a smirk.

"Hey?” Harry responds more as a question rather than a friendly reply.

"How've you been? Haven't talked to you in years!" Kyle smiles and pats Harry on his bare arm. The sickly sweet tone of his voice is demeaning and Harry would love to  turn and walk away. He takes in how different the boy before him looks since freshman year. His hair is longer and even more shaggy, he's gotten taller too but still not taller than Harry himself, he is more muscular though Harry has to admit. And the fact Kyle has extremely white teeths has Harry feeling self conscious about his own..

"I've been good, how about you?" Harry ask making himself sound friendly. He always has been a lover not a fighter.

"Great! Y/n and I went to California this summer it was blast. What'd you do?" After he said that the curly haired boy understands why he's been stopped in the hall, not regain a friend but to get Y/n and their relationship rubbed in his face he still has Y/n. Not that Harry likes her or anything, but that he doesn’t have any form of a relationship with her and he does. After the fight between Harry and Y/n, she obviously told Kyle because he tried to fight Harry that day.

"Wow that sounds fun. Julie and I kept it local and it was more fun than traveling let me tell you." Harry mirked hoping he'd pick up on his hint. Even though he was full of shit and hasn’t even came close to that with Julie. He knows Y/n,and that she wouldn't do that with someone like Kyle.

"Yeah but think of this, sex in every city we went to." Kyle laughs before turning up the stairs getting the last word in with a disgusting smirk. Harry bites his lip out of anger and turns in the direction of his class. Y/n must not be the same girl he grew up with he comes to the conclusion as he enters the auditorium. He tries to push the conversation between Kyle and him out of his head as he takes his seat in the first row of blue seats in front of the large stage. Theater class should change his mood for the better.

Y/n brushes her hair off her shoulder as she speaks with the teacher trying to explain this is a schedule mishap and she’s definitely not in theater. The shorter woman looks her up and down and smiles.

“We’ll handle this tomorrow, stay for today and see what you think. You just may love it!” Her arm moves as she talks and the large sleeves gesture with her. Y/n only nods folding her schedule up and sliding it in her back pocket with a sigh. The limelight was never her calling unless it was for scoring the most goals or breaking a record. The annoyance of having to stay in theatre class for today she sits as the teacher plops herself in center front stage, her legs hanging off the edge.

"Hey class! I'm Mrs. Burns. Since it's the first day and a theater class were going to do some improv as our 'get to know you game!' I'm gonna number everyone off by five and if you have the same number get a partner and you'll be acting together." She instructs us and starts counting off. Y/n is a one and Harry is too.  All of the ones form a group and all have been partnered expect Y/n and Harry.

"Hey partner." She smiles. It’s a real one this time and Harry feels accomplished even if he did nothing to receive it. The fact Y/n is being so friendly means something to him.

"Ok ones! Who's acting first?" Mrs. Burns asks as she claps her ring clad fingers together. All the fellow number ones point at Harry and Y/n.

"Okay so you're both ballerinas who have to pee but have to go on stage in 30 seconds now act!" Mrs. Burns yells in a deep voice that causes a few students to giggle. The two walk to center stage while everyone else is still seated. The lights blind them from seeing their peers.

"If I cecchetti I'm going to pee myself." Y/n starts off causing Harry to almost burst into giggles and break his character. His body language now held straight and more formal as he tries to walk on his tippy toes.

"To late for a potty break now we have to go on!" He responds after stopping the laugh about to leave his throat. He walks toward the left and Y/n catches on doing the same. She holds her tippy toes better than Harry but the bruise on her leg now aches at the new way of walking.

"I think I just peed a little what am I gonna do?" She asks making a worried face and the class laughs along with Harry this time.

"Hide it with your tutu, that's what I did." He fires back erupting more laughs from his audience as he acts as if he has a tutu on. Y/n nods and starts doing the same thing they awfully imitate ballerina moves. She's like a different person when she acts, even for this small skit she shows no signs of being shy or embarrassed. She really has changed, and Harry not only noticed it but he likes the braver Y/n too.

"FREEZE!" A student shouts and the two oblige. Y/n is stuck balancing on one foot with both arms raised she's wobbling but smiling wide. Harry feels a top on his arm signaling he’s being pulled from the scene and jumps off the stage taking a seat again.

"Y/n, you can't fly." He says grabbing her arm and pulling her back so she on both feet again. The guy who took Harry’s spot is unfamiliar to him and he wonders how he even knows her.

"But dad! I'm a superhero who can fly!" She yells like a baby and crosses her arms moving her center of gravity so she's hunched over more childlike. "I'll show you how." She continues and spreads the guys arms out. He looks over her actions dramatically to show effect.

"Now close your eyes." Y/n says sounding mischievous. As he does so she goes behind him tiptoeing like a bad thief in cartoons.

"And FLY!" She yells and shoves him, lightly but he gets the idea and falls.

"Help me up right now!" He demands sounding angry. As she leans down to grab his hands a chorus of 'FREEZE' is heard and Y/n gets tapped out. She has huge smile on her face and it shocks Harry how much she's actually changed from when they were friends; she was shy and never wanted to join theater with Harry before. No matter how much he had begged and tried to bribe her. And now she’s such a natural Saying she's changed isn't the right word to describe Y/n though because that word usually has a negative connotation with it, she's evolved. HArry sits back in his chair as Y/n descends the small set of stairs exiting the stage.

The next two people up are joking around, not really holding to an idea or formulating their characters. The girl calls out trust fall and actually falls full force into her partners arms but the fast action doesn’t register with him and they both end up actually falling and land on the hard floor, the noise echoes throughout the empty auditorium. Everyone is silent as they wait for the reactions of the two who fell trying to determine if they are actually hurt.

"Romeo Romeo where art OW!" The guy yelps and earns a chorus of laughter from everyone. When they get up and walk back to their seats rubbing their butts and arms, Y/n high fives the guy.

"Okay class that's enough for today, we'll pick this back up tomorrow. Happy first day of school! See you for the next nine months." She waves as everyone stampedes to the exit. Y/n and Harry end up being the last people in the room.

"Hey Y/n!" He call as she exits the room just before him causing him to take large steps to catch up. She comes to a halt and whips around her hair flying in her face. She moves it quickly behind her ear with an airy laugh. Y/n can laugh over anything it makes her so approachable.

"Yeah?" She questions. He wasn't expecting her to stop not sure if he even heard his call. He opens and closes his mouth searching for his words.

"There's a back to school party tonight at, Micah's, I was wondering if you're going cause-" before I can finish my reasoning why she cuts me off.

“Are you going?” Her eyes hold contact with Harry before its too much for him and he shifts his glare to the floor looking at her red sneakers that match her shirt.

“Yeah, I was planning on it.” He answers her. Y/n is surprised parties were always too much for him, he loved being around people and entertaining but high school parties always ended with Y/n pulling Harry out early so he didn’t panic from all the chaos.

“Well if anything changes I think we should start on our book report tonight. My number hasn’t changed so text me if you’re free.” She smiles leaving her thoughts secret and turns back to head to the doors looking for Kyle.

Harry starts thinking of a way to tell Julie she can’t make the party tonight when two small hands cover over his eyes, he closes them as a reactions and laughs.

“Guess who!” A voice whispered in his ear and he laughs again.

“Hmm my beautiful girlfriend Julie?” He questions and turns around scooping her cheeks in his large hands. She’s had a good first day and Harry is happy about that but he knows he’s about to ruin it. Julie may be the principles kid but she’s big partier. It’s where she actually lets loose and doesn’t think of school or exams or college. He finds himself stressed out when she goes on and on about those subjects.

As they walk to the parking lot she notices something is off.

“What’s going on babe?” She questions biting her lip and watching his facial expression change as he sighs holding a hand on his door.

“I can’t come to the party tonight.” He finally says and watches her smile drop from across the hood of the car. Without a word she gets into the passenger seat and slams his car door. He knew she’d react this way and he tries to prepare for the long lecture there is to come as he drives her home.

“And that’s why I think you should come Harry. We can blow off steam before the stress of school starts.” She finishes as he parks curbside of her house. She lives on the more wealthy side of town and her large house mocks his cheap car.

“I can’t go Julie, I’m sorry.” The words leave his mouth before he can register than he’s choosing to hang out with Y/n rather than party with his girlfriend. She decides to leave it at that and stomp off into her house. He sighs and leans his head on the steering wheel before finally returning home. He looks at his room and begins cleaning it up and looking for an outfit before typing a text for Y/n.

Taglist: @paljungmu  @painted-soulss  @living-dead-parker  @damnhisfaceisliketheskyatnight  @spiderman-n  @redhoodparker  @typicaltrashbagg  @beautiful-holland  @quitetommy @cherryhollands  @parkerstan  @spideykisses @lovelyh0lland @thesciencebabe

[delos-mio]

Silver Screen - Part 1

Summary: When you first met Thor, he was just a customer at your side gig. But after opening up to one another, your connection becomes more than skin deep. Will a new calling bring you closer together or drive a wedge too far deep to overcome?

A/N: Hi! Part one of my new Thor fic. The idea came to me the other night and I just got in a groove with these characters. Let me know how you’re feeling about it after reading- I’m a little anxious!! No warnings for this chapter except teeth rotting fluff.

***

It was the only theater left in town that showed old movies. Most of the pictures were in black and white or early color, but that’s what kept your niche clientele coming. Your family had owned the old building for years and kept it alive as a passion project of sorts. They had made sure everything was restored impeccably- true to the time down to the tiles on the floors and color scheme. It still had the original ornate woodwork around trim, both intricate and delicate. It didn’t pay the bills, but you always found time to go help out a few nights a week. Seeing people out on dates where they share popcorn and see classic flicks, you found something very romantic about that. Maybe it was just that you were a hopeless romantic, but it reminded you of those simple, classic, sweet sentiments that came with being in love.  

The first time you saw him, he stuck out like a sore thumb. For one, he was gigantic. He was easily six and a half feet tall and all muscle. His broad shoulders were confined tightly in the plain olive tee he was wearing under his jacket. For another, he was breathtakingly handsome. His strong jaw adorned with a short beard and high cheekbones set the stage for a perfect face. He had eyes like a tide pool, a deep and intense blue that could draw anyone in. And finally, he was Thor. You recognized him the moment he walked in. It was hard to miss a literal god in your lobby, let alone one who had saved the city on more than one occasion. You could tell he was trying to keep a low profile and seemingly lead a normal life, and you were going to let him do exactly that.

He walked right up to you at the concession stand, full grin on his face. “How are you doing this evening?”

“I’m doing pretty good myself. How about you?” you asked, beaming back at him.

“I’m well. Although, a little apprehensive about this whole thing.”

“This whole thing?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I was told that people like to go to movies in their spare time.” He leaned in across the counter and spoke in a low voice. “If I’m being honest, it’s my first time.” You looked back at him in disbelief.

“Well then you came to the right place! Ok, so, you need popcorn for sure. Do you like chocolate or fruity chewy candy?” you asked over your shoulder. You noticed he was staring at you, not in a weird or uncomfortable way, more in curiosity and wonder.

“I…I guess I’m not that picky. Whatever you think is best.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and smiled. If you weren’t mistaken, you thought he was being bashful. You didn’t want to give yourself too much credit, but you kind of hoped he was. You picked out a few other concessions and handed them over with a little bit of shyness of your own.

“Thank you…I’m so sorry, how rude of me. I’m Thor,” he said, holding his hand out. You put your palm against his and his enormous hand wrapped around yours, placing a light kiss on your knuckles. You introduced yourself and tried your hardest not to melt on the spot.

“It’s nice to meet you, but you better get going. Show starts in 2 minutes.” You winked and nodded towards the theater doors. He gave you a small wave before gathering his snacks and heading into the darkened room.

It was hard to wait the hour and a half runtime of the film. You found yourself wondering what he thought of the movie and what he liked best of all the things you gave him. Once the doors opened again, you watched as the crowd filed out, keeping your eyes peeled for the god among them. To your delight, he came out and walked right back up to you.

“I understand why people enjoy movies. It’s nice to just have a moment without worries.” He was smiling, but you noticed a small sadness in his eyes. It reminded you that he most likely had the weight of the literal world on his shoulders.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You thought about the words forming on your tongue for a moment before more or less blurting it out. “Think you’ll come back?” He let out a small laugh and flashed that magnificent grin again.

“Oh, absolutely,” he smiled. “I hope you have a lovely night,” he said before turning on his heel and making his way out of the glass front doors. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you just flirted with Thor. And, to your surprise, he also seemed to flirt with you.

And so it became a weekly tradition that Thor would come on Thursdays and see whatever happened to be playing. He didn’t seem to care what he’d be viewing, but you noticed he always liked the ones packed with action best and most of the ones with a sweeping romance. Every week, you’d give him a new candy until he ate his way through the selection and informed you of his preferences.

In recent weeks, he came earlier and earlier for the showing, spending his wait time talking with you across the counter. He’d pause and let you serve the few other patrons coming in for matinee showings, always polite and chatty with his new friends, as he called them.

He would tell you stories about Asgard and his family. Sometimes, if it was late and you were cleaning, he’d sit and talk to you about the war and about loss. Hearing about Ragnarok and the destruction of his only home absolutely broke your heart. Those nights were hard for both of you, but they also made you feel closer to each other. He’d tell you about the adjustment to living on Midgard, as he called it, and trying to learn a new set of customs. You’d let him in on weird little idiosyncrasies and teach him useful phrases that would make him sound less like a 17th century King to strangers.

There was something about him that made you comfortable. He made you feel important and valued. When you told him about your shitty landlord or how you ripped your favorite skirt, whatever petty drama you had, he listened intently and offered a remedy for your every problem. Sometimes, you felt bad about venting to him; you were sure he had much bigger problems than tripping up a set of stairs in front of your new neighbor. But he never once dismissed you.

One night when he came in, you noticed that he looked a little unlike himself. Usually when he came in, he was chipper and reminded you of the human equivalent of a golden retriever. Tonight, he seemed downtrodden and tired. As he approached, he gave you a small smile.

“Hey,” you said. It was the only thing you could think of in that moment.

“Hi. How has your week been?” He always started off asking about you.

“It’s been good. Thor, what’s wrong?” You didn’t want to talk about you. It was obvious something was on his mind and you needed to know what.

“It’s…Everything’s ok. Nothing’s wrong. I’m good,” he lied. You could see it in his eyes.

“I thought we were good enough friends not to lie to each other,” you lightly scolded. He smiled at that and ran his fingers through his short hair. It had grown out since you first met, but it was still much shorter than he’d like as he liked to remind you.

“It’s my brother.  It’s his birthday today and I don’t know,” he started, looking down at his hands that he was idly wringing together, “I guess I miss him. God, if he heard me say that, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked, running your hand gently on his arm. You knew you should be focusing on his response, but you couldn’t help appreciating the solid marble of his bicep under your fingertips.

“When the movie’s over, do you think,” he started and then looked at you again, “do you think we could ‘hang out’” he asked, trying out his newly learned term. Your heart grew three sizes and you nodded your head.

“Of course we can. Come get me when you’re done and we can pick up food and go to my place,” you offered. He finally smiled for real for the first time since he came in. He put his free hand on top of the one you had on his arm and gave it a soft squeeze before walking in to see his movie for the week.

You did everything you could to clean up quickly and be ready to close the moment the movie let out. It took a lot of sweat, but you made it happen come hell or high water. He walked out with a handful of people and came back to you, shrugging into his jacket. “Are you ready, dear?”

The winter wind outside was whipping around your faces. You pulled you hat down over your ears and pulled at the collar of the jacket, trying to use it as a shield for your face. Thor seemed to be fine; he was strolling along side you in nothing more than a canvas jacket and hoodie. How did he do it? Then you remembered he was a literal god and probably didn’t have to worry about things like being cold.

“Can’t you, y’know, do something about this snow?” you asked, gesturing broadly at the sky around you. He howled with laughter and shook his head.

“It doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid,” he grinned. “But, I could help a bit if you’d like,” he suggested and opened up an arm to you. For a moment, you stopped and looked at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke. Finding none, you quickly tucked yourself into his side and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, doing his best to shield you from the elements and provide some warmth. It was working. Maybe it was feeling giddy about being so close to Thor, but you were already starting to feel better about the 10 block walk back to your apartment.

You stopped to grab a pizza, or two, along the way and finally made it to your 5th floor apartment. It was small, but big enough for just you. However, seeing Thor in your foyer made the place feel like a matchbox. He shrugged out of his jacket and stepped out of his sopping boots in the doorway before continuing to your living room, giving the place a once over. He looked content as he scanned over your photographs and small trinkets. Watching him analyze your things made you smile; it was nice to see someone appreciate your space besides you.

“I uh, I’m still in my work clothes,” you interrupted quietly. “Do you mind if I quick change out of them?” Thor turned to look at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“Take all the time you need,” he replied. You hurried into your bedroom and opened your closet. Shit. You didn’t even consider what you’d be changing in to. Was this a date? No. No, he asked you to hang out. If you went out looking too hot or fancy, you’d no doubt embarrass yourself. A big part of you wanted to just throw on your trusty house sweats and hoodie and call it a day. But you didn’t want him to think you weren’t interested in hanging out or him. You groaned quietly to yourself as you sifted through your pile of clean clothes, desperate for anything that would work. Finally, you settled on a pair of yoga leggings and a favorite zip up of yours. A compromise you could live with. When you walked back out, Thor was sitting comfortably on your couch, thumbing through the book you had left on your armrest.

“Can I get you a drink or anything? Sorry, I think I only have water and beer,” you laughed uncomfortably, walking to the fridge. You would have planned a little better if you knew you’d be having company.

“A beer is great,” he called back. You popped the cap of two bottles and brought the pizza over to your coffee table. You two clinked bottles as he spoke, “To Loki.” He finished the bottle in one drink and let out a sigh.

“There’s plenty more in the fridge, if you want,” you laughed. He took your invitation to grab another and twist the cap off easily without the aid of the bottle opener you left out. Watching his fingers effortlessly rip metal from glass lit a fire low in your stomach. It was going to be harder than you thought to be just friends outside of work.

You drank beer after beer together and ate way past the point of being full. Talking to him was effortless; it was easy to be yourself and feel like he wasn’t going to judge you for speaking freely. Truth be told, you were starting to feel the buzz off the IPAs you’d be throwing back. Every part of you wanted to be closer to him in every sense. The way he laughed and told stories and how his eyes squinted when he smiled was making you crazy. You were sitting in the corner of your couch, legs bent and resting on the cushion next to you. The beer started talking to you, telling you to open your mouth and ask him the question that had been on your mind since the second time he came into the theater.

“Can I ask you something,” you asked from behind your beer bottle, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you had to look him in those bright blue eyes.

“You know you can ask me anything,” he smiled, putting his large hand on your calf. Shit, here goes nothing.

“Why…Why do you come see me every week? I know for a fact you’ve seen every movie we show by this point,” you asked shyly. He turned his head to look at you, his features soft and a small smile forming on your lips.

“Does it bother you? Would you like me to stop?” he teased.

“No!” you answered a little too quickly. “No, it’s the best part of my week.” It felt good to tell the truth.

“Well, you’re my friend,” he said as a matter of fact. Fuck. You took your shot and tossed up an air ball. Your stomach started to hurt as what he was saying sank in. But then he started to speak again. “You’re also very beautiful. I’ve thought so since the first time I came in.” A warmth spread across your face as you bit down on your bottom lip. Did Thor just say he thought you’re pretty?

“I wouldn’t kick you out of bed either,” you said, giving him a small smile. He looked at you with his brows furrowed, trying to figure out what you meant. “Oh, god I’m sorry. It means I think you’re hot too,” you clarified. His brows relaxed and his eyes did that sweet little crinkle around the corner.

“Thank you for spending time with me tonight. It’s not often someone I trust is around to listen,” he said, his grip on your calf getting firmer as he dragged your legs over his lap, moving you closer to him on the couch. Your heart started to race as you leaned into his side, letting your head rest on his firm shoulder. “I appreciate you helping me. Now, can I ask you something?” he said, rubbing his palm up and down the side of your leg.

“Mhmm,” was all you could manage choke out.

“I’d rather not be alone tonight. Would it be ok if I stayed here?” he asked sweetly, his deep voice low in your ear. “I can sleep out here, if you’d be more comfortable…”

“Don’t be silly. Yeah, of course you can stay with me,” you interjected. You removed your legs from him and stood up, your hand stretched out to him. “It’s late.” He looked you over from head to toe and put his large hand around yours.

He followed behind you down the hallway, still hand in hand. The pounding in your chest hadn’t slowed at all. In fact, it had only gotten stronger by the time you were standing at the foot of your bed. You dropped his hand and moved over to your side, shedding your zip up along the way. When you turned back to look at Thor, his shirt was already off and piled on the floor. Whatever you had seen in your day dreams about him shirtless was nothing compared to how he looked bedroom. He looked like a god carved from marble; you already knew he was a god, but he really, really looked like one. You picked your jaw up off the floor and crawled underneath your duvet, waiting not so patiently for Thor.

“Do you mind?” he asked gently, reaching for his belt buckle and looking at you for permission. You nodded your head and he stepped out of his dark jeans, finally exposing his muscular legs. He climbed in next to you so you were facing each other and burrowed into his pillow. The action made you smile and laugh a little under your breath. He didn’t miss your reaction and moved a bit closer to you. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s not funny. It’s just…” oh, what the hell, you thought, “you’re so cute.” If you didn’t know any better, you would say he blushed.

“C’mere,” he said quietly and lifted his arm, creating a space for you to tuck yourself into. You wasted no time closing the distance between your bodies and pressed against his chest. He closed his arm around you and started to rub your back softly. You rested your forehead against his and moved your palm to run over his beard, scratching along the way. He let himself lean into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. It was still outside and quiet in the dark of your room. The only sounds were the hum of the radiator and your breathing. You were totally at ease in Thor’s arms, and he gave every indication that he felt the same way.

“Thank you again,” he whispered, his lips only inches from yours. You just smiled and brushed the tip of your nose against his affectionately. The air felt like it was buzzing around your bodies; you didn’t know if it was just you feeling so giddy about finally being in his arms or if it was emitting from Thor himself. Either way, there seemed to be a pull bringing you even closer together. It felt like his lips were moving closer and your stomach was in knots. You boldly decided to close the gap and lightly pressed your mouth to his, your lips melting together perfectly. His beard scratched your chin gently as you kissed him again. It felt like the first time you were really, truly kissed. Every feeling of adoration and comfort and trust was being poured into one another. It left you breathless when you finally broke apart. He looked at you with his dazzling blue eyes that still seemed to sparkle in the dark of night, his expression soft and a wide smile on his face. “We should probably go to bed,” he grinned.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make out more?” you asked, biting down on your bottom lip.

“I do want to. And that’s why we have to go to sleep,” he laughed.

“Ugh, you’re right. Ok, you win,” you groaned flopping dramatically onto your back. But Thor followed you, carefully hovering over you and placed one more deep kiss on your lips.

“Sweet dreams,” he smiled. This time, you took him into your arms and let his head rest comfortably on your chest, his arm snaked around your waist. You gently ran your fingers through his short hair until you both drifted off to sleep.

[meltingalphabet]

Death is only for the living

“Your dead grandmother doesn’t give a shit that she’s dead. You do.” Chasey told me when I came back to school after the funeral.

That was when I decided I did not like the new girl.

While the other girls and teachers showered me with flowers and cards, Chasey sat at the back of the room, her eyebrow arched. The pretentious smirk that I later would recognize to be her trademark mocking me. I hated her.

Chasey was an odd person. It’s a weird thing to say, but she was kind of what you’d expect from someone whose name is most often associated with a pornstar. She showed up one day, our school uniform altered into her own interpretation of couture. There was the green plaid skirt and white button up top we were all wearing, but her skirt was littered with safety pins and her right breast was covered with band pins I recognized from movies about drug-riddled anarchist teens. Her shirt was unbuttoned almost to the point of scandal and her long black hair was tied into a messy knot at the top of her head. She had rings in her nostril and septum, a bar in her eyebrow, and her ears were filled with studs, hoops, and barbells. Her eyelids were heavy with thick black liner and dark purple shadow, her thin lips painted a deep matte red. Her black messenger bag was covered in patches of devils, horned creatures, and bones, the largest of which was the skeleton of siamese twins conjoined at the head.

Her darks eyes surveyed the room and landed on the empty desk beside me. My stomach twisted as she approached, her dark confidence intimidating. She sat down and looked at me. I blushed as I realized I had been staring. Chasey winked and I looked away quickly, my cheeks burning.

From that moment forward, no matter how much I tried to avoid her, Chasey would appear everywhere. I was the president of the Philosophy club and she was our newest member. I was one of the editors for the school newspaper and she became one of our photographers. She would eat lunch at the table next to me and my friends. She’d show up at parties and raise an eyebrow at me, smirking as if she had something on me. As if she knew something about me no one else knew.

My 15th birthday was in the summer. I invited everyone from my class to a pool party at my place. Unsurprisingly, Chasey was there. While everyone else played pool games and lounged around, Chasey stood in the corner talking to my father as he grilled hot dogs and hamburgers. We all sported colorful bikinis while Chasey wore ripped up jeans and a black band shirt. It had a skeleton wearing a pope costume, it’s tongue shooting from its mouth as it wildly brandished a cross. I watched her nod as my father excitedly told her about his new film project. Her eyes locked on mine and she smirked, one eyebrow raised. I looked away, engrossing myself once again in our game of volleyball.

As night came, most girls went home but a few stayed. We watched a movie and did our nails, talked about boys and school and how Ms. Kazer really needed a good fuck. Chasey was there, sitting in the corner. I watched her sip her soda and pop a cheese curl in her mouth. She winked at me and I blushed.

My best friend Rachel seemed to notice as she looked in the direction I had been staring. She gave Chasey a smile, her voice soaked in false nicety,  “What about you Chasey? I bet a girl like you gets lots of dick.”

The others erupted in laughter. Chasey smiled cooly in response, unirritated by the attention.

“Dick isn’t really my thing.” She said nonchalantly.

The giggling stopped abruptly and the room grew silent with discomfort.

“I’m going to go to bed.” I said abruptly, standing so suddenly the remotes sitting on my lap fell to the floor. Everyone stared at me.

“What?” Rachel asked, “but it’s still early.”

“Yeah, I know.” I sighed, “I just… I’m beat. You guys can crash here or in one of the guest rooms.” They looked at me silently, waiting for more, so I added, “I got a lot of sun today.” As if that explained it.

Rachel shrugged and put in another DVD as I quickly walked to my room.

I was reading in bed when my door opened about an hour later. Chasey stuck her head in, “so you’re still awake.” I shrugged, resting the book on the nightstand. “Can I come in?” she asked, pushing the door fully open and entering before I could reply. She was wearing nothing but a pair of dark blue underwear and the t-shirt she had been in earlier.

I sat there in silence as Chasey walked around my room examining everything on the walls and furniture with intense concentration. The silence between us would be periodically interrupted with a question, “who’s that?” She’d ask pointing to a photo.

“My uncle.”

She picked up a small trophy - my third place award for the Junior Bass Fishing Tournament I was in when I was seven. She turned, a huge smile on her face as she angled it towards me.

I blushed and pulled the blanket around me. “I-I used to be really into fishing.”

She snorted. “That’s adorable.”

A lightning bolt of heat shot through my stomach. My body felt like it was burning from the inside out.

Chasey stopped at my bookcase. “Oh shit!” She exclaimed, pulling out one of my board games. She turned and presented a Ouija board.

“Oh, I was also really into ghosts and stuff when I was a kid.” I tried to sink further into my bed without success.

“So there was a younger version of yourself that was super into demons and fishing?” She asked.

I shrugged.

“That’s amazing.” She sat down on the carpeted floor and lifted the box, allowing the bottom to fall with a loud sucking noise. She took out the board. “Holy shit, real wood!” She examined it, her nose barely an inch away from the black intricate designs around the edges. “Man, this is fucking fancy!” She looked up and raised her eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to join me?” She asked, that damn eyebrow luring me towards her.

I swallowed and slid out from under the covers, very self conscious of my baggy pink pajama pants. I groaned internally as I remembered that they were even covered in little hearts. I wished I had been wearing something more mature, something sexier. I sat across from her, the board between us. Without a word, we both placed our fingers lightly on the planchet.

Chasey straightened her back and shifted her shoulders. She cleared her throat and, in an airy voice, said “we call on you, spirits of old and new. Tell us your secrets.” She swayed side to side as she hummed a static tone, as if meditating.

I watched, mesmerized, and then she stopped, her eyes shoot opened as the planchet slid easily over the wooden surface, stopping at the hello carefully printed in the bottom left hand corner.

We locked eyes, my heart thumping in my chest. Chasey smiled wickedly at me.

“You’re fucking with me.” I said incredulously.

Chasey rocked back in laughter. “Oh my god, your face!” She squealed. Embarrassment and anger grew inside of me. I stood, awkwardly, and sat on my bed. “Oh, Emma! I’m sorry! You were just so into it!” Chasey stood and hopped onto the bed with me.

Heat rushed through my abdomen as she scooted towards me, smiling. I was suddenly aware of a fresh scent I couldn’t identify filling my nostrils and sending a slight shiver down my spine.

“You love that shit, don’t you?” I asked.

Chasey smirked, “what do you mean?”

“All that dark shit. Voodoo, seances, summonings, demons.” I waved my hand around my head, nonverbally indicating the etcetera.

Chasey laughed and leaned against the wall, stretching her legs out in front of her. “I guess you could say that.” She looked at me, her face fallen, filled with a sudden and intense interest. I waited for her to say something, to do something.

“What?” I asked.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh, I guess so? Do I have to answer?”

She laughed, then grew serious again. “Emma.” She said, leaning closer. My heart quickened.

“Yeah?”

“How do you want to die?”

I scrunched up my nose, “w-what?”

“How do you want to die?” She asked again, no hint of a joke or even a smile on her face.

“Uh… I don’t know.” I answered with a shrug.

She leaned back, thoughtfully examining my face. “You never think about your death?”

“No, I have… I just… I dunno…” She waited, watching me expectantly. “I guess I want to die peacefully in my sleep.” The edge of her lip lowered in disappointment, the skin between her eyebrows tightening. “Isn’t that what everyone wants?” I added.

“That’s not how I want to go.” Chasey said, her voice low and filled with sincerity.

“How do you want to die?” I asked quietly.

Her eyes glazed as she looked at a spot above my head. She seemed suddenly distant, removed. “I want to die in a slasher film.”

I waited for additional details, but she was silent, her eyes still absently locked on the wall. “Like, on the set?” I asked.

She looked back at me, her eyes sharpening back into focus. “No, no. I mean, I want to be chased through the woods by a serial killer. A butcherer of men.”

I pulled away, suddenly aware of how close her face was to mine, and rested my back against the firm headboard. Chasey took this as an invitation to adjust her sitting position as well, crossing her legs in front of her as she turned to face me. She settled and I tried to ignore that her knees were now resting against mine. She leaned in, her face filled with urgency.

“Dying is the last thing you will ever do. Why would you want to die in your sleep? I want to be aware of my death. I don’t want to be numb to it, in shock like if you freeze or drown. I want to be in the moment for as long as possible. If I’m being chased by a crazed lunatic, my adrenaline will be heightened, I will be more focused than I have ever been in my life. Each second will stretch into hours. There I will remain for an eternity, trapped in my own demise. I will be in the moment, no longer existing outside of it. My thoughts won’t be in the past, the life I’ve led, my regrets and unfulfilled wishes. I’ll be there and nowhere else. Running. Surviving until I am nothing but a memory, my mind and thoughts vanished forever. I will be no more. But, before that, I will be aware of my death in a way most people will never be aware of anything in their entire lives. I will be forced to savor every last second of the last moments of my life.” Chasey stopped, she was breathing hard at this point, her face only inches from mine.

I swallowed and stared at her, unsure of what to say.

And then, she closed the space between our lips. My mind went blank. Her lips were so soft, her scent so delicious. She opened her lips slightly, pushing mine apart, and her tongue gently coaxed mine to join. Her mouth never leaving mine, she pushed me down into the bed, one hand at the base of my skull, the other on my shoulder. She dropped her body onto mine, her breasts pressing into my much smaller ones. I was jarringly aware of my inexperience, my small chest, my slight stomach rolls, and then she kissed harder and all those thoughts dissipated as I lost myself in the moment.

I awoke, my head resting on Chasey’s naked chest. I let my head rise and fall with her breath. The sun shone through the thin crack of my closed curtains, illuminating my bedroom wall in front of me. A wall so familiar to me it contrasted sharply against the new body beneath mine, unknown yet with a weight of intimacy that warmed my body from my spine outward. I sighed, forcing myself to remain still. I didn’t want to wake her. I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted this moment to last forever.

But of course, every moment has to end.

My bedroom door opened behind me and I sat bolt upright, covering my exposed breasts. Rachel stood in the doorway, her face frozen in shock. Chasey groaned and shifted beside me. She noticed Rachel and lifted herself onto her arm, blinking groggily.

“Morning, Rach” Chasey said, her voice thick with sleep.

Rachel was staring at Chasey, unable to move her eyes away from her nudity. Finally, her eyes moved to mine. We stared at each other. I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t react.

“I have to go home.” Rachel said, her voice flat. She stepped back, closing the door behind her. I sat there, my body trembling. Chasey straightened, watching me with concern, but I couldn’t look at her. Shame poured from the top of my head down, filling my heart and stomach with a disgusting sourness like yellow bile. Chasey rested her hand on my back.

“Are you ok, Emma?” She asked, her voice so innocent, so unaffected by what just occurred. I forced my face to turn towards her, to meet her eyes. Chasey leaned in and kissed my lips lightly.

I flew from the bed and ran to my dresser, grabbing a bra, shirts and jeans falling to the floor beside me in my haste.

Chasey stood from the bed. “Emma?” She asked, her voice sounded afraid. Something I had never heard before. I whipped around, holding loose clothing close to my chest. Hot angry tears filling my eyes.

“Get out!” I said, shaking with rage.

“Emma.” Chasey said, her expression one of hurt.

“Out!” I cried, pointing to the door with my free hand.

She picked up her shirt and panties from the floor and left, her head hung in defeat.

Months passed and I saw Chasey less and less. Rachel never told anyone about what she saw, and we never discussed it. But I made sure to distance myself as much as possible from  Chasey, and she seemed to get the message. When school started up again she quit the newspaper and never showed up to another meeting of the Philosophy club.

Yet, when I did see her, when I’d pass her in the hall or watch her give a presentation in class, my body would ache for her. I’d fall asleep at night thinking of her soft kisses. Thinking about how she tasted, how her body felt on top of mine, my hands running across her skin.

I wanted to take back rejecting her. I wish I hadn’t kicked her out of my room, that I hadn’t cared what Rachel saw. I wish I had turned back towards her and pulled her body to mine, falling back asleep with her warmth in my arms.

One morning I saw her as I was walking to the restroom during class. She was at her locker, scavenging the mess inside for something. I walked to her, standing above the open locker, listening to her mumble in frustration. My heart melting in my chest as she swore at a misplaced tampon floating around textbooks and loose papers.

“There you are!” She exclaimed, pulling it to her chest and shutting the door with a metallic clang. She jumped as she noticed me beside her. Her cheeks paled at the sight of me.

“Hey, Chasey.” I said, giving her a small smile.

Chasey narrowed her eyes and stood, turning on her heel with a loud “Hmph!” I watched her walk down the hall, her steps heavy and with purpose. My heart stung with the pain I knew I caused her, the pain I now felt.

A few days later I wrote Chasey an apology note and slipped it into her locker through the slats in the door, asking her to text me so we could chat about it. About us. Chasey never texted. I left a few more notes and even tried texting her, but I never got a response.

Until one day when I opened my locker and a black card fell out onto the dusty linoleum floor. I picked it up. My name was written in red ink on the front in Chasey’s handwriting. My heart fluttered and I shoved my books into my locker so my hands would be free to peel it open.

It was an invitation. Her birthday was October 22nd, a fact I hadn’t known previously, and she was hosting a Halloween themed party. This was it. This was my chance. I squealed in delight to the concern of my neighbors. I bit my lip, trying to keep my excitement under control. My smile stretched wide despite my efforts, a ting of copper touching my tongue as my tooth cut into the soft delicate flesh of my lip.

The address on the invitation took us to an old warped house far from the neat and uniform subdivisions me and my friends live in. My dad eyed the disheveled slate roof and drooping porch of the one story home with concern.

“Who is this friend again?” He asked.

“Chasey. You met her at my birthday! She was the only one who talked to you.” I said, exacerbated with repeating myself.

“Oh, the little goth girl!” He said. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. She was…” He eyed the house again, “nice.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dad, stop being a snob.”

“I’m not being a snob. I know not everyone has the money we do, I just didn’t expect her home to be so... “ He searched for the word, “rundown.”

I made a noise of disgust and opened the door to leave.

“Hey, hey!” He said, and I turned and gave him a quick hug. “Love you, kiddo! I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

I gave him a peck on the cheek, “thanks, dad!” and shot from the seat.

“Be good!” He yelled, the car door cutting him off as it slammed shut. I pulled at the short skirt of my crushed velvet dress. It had taken me forever to pick a costume. I wanted something mature and sexy, without being too slutty. I decided to go as a witch. My deep purple dress was fitted, but not too tight, with a low neckline that complimented the large metal cross that hung around my neck. I wore the strapless bra I had bought for my cousin’s wedding the year before, the stiff tight padded cups giving me undeserved cleavage. To complete the ensemble, I wore a black pointed hat and carried an old wooden broom I had found in the attic.

My dad’s car idled in the rocky driveway as I walked to the front door, my heart hammering in my chest. I lifted my hand to knock but it swung open before I could, revealing Chasey dressed as Drew Barrymore from Scream. Her eyes drifted to my cleavage and she looked up at me smiling wickedly, her eyebrow arched. I felt warm, my breath taken away by the familiar expression I hadn’t seen in months.

“Come on in.” Chasey said with a small nod. I turned and gave my dad a final wave. I stepped inside and heard the heavy vehicle slowly pull away. The house was dark, illuminated only by that candles that covered every surface.

“Jesus.” I said, leaning my broom against the wall, “you’re gonna burn your house down.”

“This isn’t my house.” Chasey replied jeeringly.

“It’s not?” I asked.

Chasey laughed, “of course not! You really think I live in a shithole like this? No, I live in a nice little suburban McMansion, just like you. But I wanted someplace special for my birthday.”

Chasey walked through a doorway and I followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed a tallboy from the counter and passed it to me. “Drink up.”

I pulled the tab, piercing the thin metal with a sharp hiss. “Where is everyone else?” I asked, looking around.

“Oh, the guest of honor should be here soon.” Chasey said, looking at her watch.

“Aren’t you the guest of honor?”

Chasey looked up at me and stuck her tongue out flirtatiously. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to hug her, bring her close to me, press my body into hers and kiss her. But instead I brought the warm beer to my mouth and drank. I felt uncomfortable with her. I still longed for her. As she walked in front of me back to the living room, I had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. She sat on the couch and I sat beside her, giving ample space between us. Forcing myself not to lean towards her. To smell her. To lose myself in her.

We sat there is stiff silence until she turned to me, quite abruptly, her eyes peering into mine with a surprising softness. I could see a genuine earnestness beneath the cool pool of her irises.

“Thank you.” She said.

“For what?”

“For coming.”

“Of course. Thanks for inviting me.” I hesitated. “I-I was worried you never wanted to see me again.” The air shimmered in the sea of flames surrounding us, a dull heat radiating from the candles, emphasizing the heat growing in my body.

Chasey leaned in and kissed me. It was as soft and sweet as I remembered. I pushed my mouth into hers, relishing the warmth as I placed my hand on her thigh. I parted my lips, preparing to deepen the kiss when a loud knock echoed into the stiff silent air of the room. She tore away, looking towards the door. Another knock, this one heavy and insistent.

Chasey turned to me, her eyes wide. “Run.”

“Huh?” I asked as Chasey jumped up from the couch, pulling my arm and leading me quickly back into the kitchen. My beer fell from my startled grasp, a wet stain growing on the carpet behind us. “Chasey, what the fuck?” I asked, trying to fight against her.

“Run!” She commanded.

A loud bang and crack made me look back in time to see the head of an axe being pulled from the split wood of the front door. My broom fell with the force, landing onto a wall of candles.

“What the fuck!” I cried. Chasey pulled again at my arm and this time my body obeyed without resistance. Loud cracks followed us as we ran across the kitchen to the back door, which Chasey threw open. She pulled me into the cool night air as I heard a final crack behind us, followed by heavy deliberate footsteps.

Chasey and I were running across the yard now, running towards a line of trees. I looked over my shoulder and saw the large shadowy figure of a man fill the open doorway we had just left, an axe hanging from his hand. I turned forward, quickening my pace.

“What the fuck! What the fuck!” I screamed as we burrowed deeper into the woods. I stumbled on a tree root and Chasey pulled me to her.

“We have to keep going!” She insisted as she started running again, her hand tight around my own.

“Chasey, what did you do?” Tears were beginning to flow down my cheeks. My entire body felt cold, not by the air but by fear. Instead of answering she pulled harder, pounding her feet against the cold autumn ground, my body following blindly. My breath was starting to catch in my throat with the effort of running. My gasps for air harshly mixing with fear, combining as well as water and oil, creating a battle of will in my lungs. I tried to scream and cough at the same time but instead sputtered out gibbered sobs.

“Come on, it’s just up here.” I looked to see her dragging me to an old dilapidated shed. Chasey dropped my arm as she thrust the door open. She pushed me inside as she looked over her shoulder. Satisfied, she followed me, closing the door behind her.

I stood there shaking as she examined the old rotten tools along the wall. She grabbed a hammer and quickly weighed it in her hand.

“What are you doing!? What is going on!?” I demanded, trying to catch my breath with large deep gulps of air.

She inhaled deeply before calmly looking at me and answering, ”I told you, this is how I want to go.”

”At 16!?!” I placed my hand on my chest, feeling my heart pounding against my ribcage as I took another sharp inhale of breath.

”I’m ready.” She replied, her voice eerily steady.

“You’re insane!” I cried.

“Keep it down! Do you want him to find us?”

I looked to a small window set in the wall, too dirty to see through. “Who-who is he?” My breath was starting to become more manageable as the tears began to dry. Instinct rushed through my blood, taking over my fear with a determination I didn’t recognize. I swallowed and steadied myself, sniffing back the snot that dripped from my nostril and looking at Chasey.

“His name is Jack. I found him on… on a site.”

”Jesus fucking Christ!” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and clicked on the picture of my dad on the homescreen. “This is so fucked up. Even for you.” I snap, glaring incredulously at Chasey’s back as she peered through the window, hammer in hand.

The ringing in my ear stopped and the phone clicked, “Emma?”

“Dad! Dad! You need to come quick! There’s a guy and he has an axe!” I whispered into the phone, my words toppling out over each other, losing all sense and direction. I could hear his muffled and confused voice on the other end.

“What are you doing!” Chasey screamed as she grabbed my phone and threw it to the ground. I lunged for it as the hammer she held landed with a crunch that made my stomach heave violently. She turned, ”I thought you loved me!” She growled as she grabbed me by the hair.

My head throbbed with the pressure. ”That doesn’t mean I want to die for you!”

Chasey brought her face to mine, “that’s exactly what it means.” She said, spittle hitting my face.

”Fuck. You.” I spat back, shoving her away from me and into the shed door. My hair tore from my scalp with a painful rip. Chasey cried out as her shoulder bounced against the door with a loud shudder that echoed through the woods. I grabbed my destroyed phone, angry tears in my eyes, but it was useless, its shattered screen permanently black.

”Well, it’s too late now.” Chasey said as she watched, her hand rubbing her sore shoulder.

I looked up, my breathing clipped with pure hatred. A snarl escaped from my throat. It was a noise I didn’t recognize. One of anger, of betrayal, of bloodlust. “No.” I said as I straightened. “It’s not.” I threw my arm around her neck as I kicked the thin shed door open.

“Ow, what are you doing?” Chasey demanded, twisting desperately in my grasp. I gripped tighter. The shadowy figure of a large man stepped towards us, his features dark. The woods were barely illuminated by the stars above the dense treetops, but I could tell he was hungry. Hungry to feel our bodies break beneath him. Hungry for the sounds of bones cracking, blood gurgling, our childish screams swallowed by pain and desperation and death. Chasey screamed, feebly trying to push herself away from me. I moved to her ear, “isn’t this what you wanted?” I asked, my lips brushing against her skin. “Isn’t this what you fucking wanted?” I asked louder as Jack approached us. Chasey screamed, kicking and hitting me wildly. I threw her onto the forest floor, slamming my foot as hard as possible into her lower back. An anguished scream emitted from her.

“Happy birthday, bitch.”

Chasey tried to scramble away, her hands dragging through dead leaves, loose dirt, and bugs. I watched as Jack’s arms rose above his head and fell. The head of the axe shone in an nonexistent light, as if it were illuminated by some holy source, separate from the reality around us. The axe swung downwards, taking what felt like hours to land with a bloody thunk as it dug itself into Chasey’s leg.

Her screams followed me as I jogged back to the house. The windows glowed orange with the fire growing inside. In only a few minutes I was on the road, my head buzzing, an inferno behind me. I bent forward, resting my hands on my knees as I vomited the little bit of bud light I had drank less than an hour beforehand. Two headlights approached me and I squinted up into them. The car stopped and a figure stepped out.

“Emma?” My father’s voice, filled with shock and concern, shrouded me like an old blanket. I ran to him, falling into his arms as I started sobbing uncontrollably. I looked up at his kind face, illuminated from one side by the cool white of his car’s headlights, and from the other by the burning house. He looked like god and the devil, joined as one. An angel of mercy. A demon of hate. I collapsed as the image faded into black.

The police asked me a lot of questions. I told them it was Chasey’s birthday party. That the weird girl at school didn’t have any friends. That she invited me and I went to be nice That a man came and chased us with an axe. That I lost Chasey. That I didn’t know what happened to her. That I called my dad. That I dropped my phone in the woods. That I didn’t know how I had gotten away. That I had just ran.

They told me the man who attacked us was named Jack Fagerman. I nodded as their words turned into shapeless droning in my ear.

I should’ve been killed. I realize now that it would’ve made no difference. The girl I was when I showed up that night is dead. She will never exist again. Now I am a something new. Something shapeless. A confused lost soul that travels aimlessly. No longer a child but not a woman. A thing filled with trauma from a night I will never forget. A night that will never be washed from my mind. A night that has forever marked me.

Chasey was right, death is only for the living. Yet, I have come so close to death that my life will never be blemish free again. It is stained with the dark rust red of death and decay. I have not only lost my innocence, but any semblance of humanity.

The police still haven’t caught Jack Fagerman, yet I know where to find him. The police never even asked that. They listened to me recite the final girls’ epilogue, then closed my file and hid it in the back of an evidence box to grow dusty. They had no expectation that a sheltered teenager would know anything of real value.

I’m going back. I’m going to find Jack and finish what we started.

Death is only for the living, and I am still alive.

For now.

[tamyriasketches-is-addedoc]

Black Cat Bidder: a Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction (club/auction au)

Chapter 2: You can't go back there!

“Marinette! You are amazing girl!” Alya jumped up from her seat to wrap her startled friend in a tight hug. She squealed into her ear as she pressed her body into the petite ravenette and gave her a tight squeeze, “those chocolates where the best surprise ever girl!” Marinette giggled lightly as she pulled herself from the other girls grasp and rubbed her sore shoulders gently. She had been up late the night before hand stitching a floral design along the bodice of the dress she planned on submitting in the next fashion show her class hosted and the way she had to sit hunched over her desk lamp to do it had made her shoulders and upper back stiff and sore from built up pressure.

“I'm glad you liked them.” She chuckled as she adjusted herself in her computer chair and swirled it around to face her friend, “but it's not a big deal I had extra after I helped mamon and papa with the orders.” She noticed a small smear of chocolate on the corner of Alyas mouth as she looked up at her happily glowing face and could not suppress a small snort at the sight.

“What?” Alya returned her snort with a nervous chuckle as the two leaned closer together.

“You got a spot right, there.” Marinette swiped the smear of chocolate off of her lips with her thumb and smiled as she licked it from her smaller digit. They smiled at the gesture and rolled their eyes at the thought of Alyas boyfriend seeing them and what his reaction would be. Marinette turned back around to face her desk then and lifted her pencil only to tap it idly against the half sketched design of a Lolita style dress with deep black lace and neon green ribbon work. Alya settled in her bean bag chair behind her and lifted a magazine to thumb through while she worked. It was a lazy Friday evening for the girls, one that Marinette was not exactly use to anymore. The silence ate away at her quiet resolve until her foot was tapping rapidly below her desk and she was chewing on the eraser of her pencil as she studied her friend from the corner of her eye. She knew that the gnawing feeling of want in her gut was leading her towards the club once again, Alya had given her a taste of the night life and she had become addicted to it. She was at Club Papllion more than her dark skinned friend now but she kept it a secret from the girl and everyone else on campus out of fear that her good girl cover would be blown and she would be treated like a skank or worse by her classmates.

“Uh, Alya?” She asked as she leaned back slightly in the chair.

“Hmm?” Alya adjusted her glasses and flipped the page, not even paying attention to Marinette as she spoke.

“Do you wanna maybe, go out, somewhere… fun?” She asked slowly as she tilted her head to get a better view of her friend.

“Fun?” Alya looked up then and raised her brow at Marinette curiously as she lowered the magazine slightly in her lap.

“Yeah, fun.” She shrugged and slowly turned her chair to fully face her friend, “you know, like we did for my birthday thing?” She twirled her fingers around themselves as she spoke and found a dark patch on the carpet from Alyas last drunken encounter in her room far more interesting than the woman herself.

“Oh, oh Mari no no no.” Alya sighed and ran her fingers through her bangs before moving to crouch before her best friend and grabbed her hands in a warm reassuring way, “we can't go back to Papllion, you can't go back there!” When Marinettes eyes widened in surprise at her best friends words and the woman squatting before her blew out a long puff of air and shook her head. She patted Marinettes knee gently before sighing and looking down to the thick plush pink area rug under them, “Nino heard some rumors of girls disappearing after going to that club. He heard them from the Agreste kid of all people in fact. Anyway, apparently during the sixth month of every year certain girls get chosen by someone who frequents the club and they are never heard from again. Not one or two either, last year twenty girls vanished without a trace from there, at least that what they say.” She stood and offered her small friend a sad shrug, “we could always go somewhere else.” She offered after a moment of silence.

“No, yeah um, it's no big deal. I didn't really want to go out I just thought you would.” Marinette shrugged after the silence stretched between the two of them for far too long. She had to be the good girl, she couldn't let her friend know of Ladybugs many visits to the club after the one that she had been dragged into doing. Marinette couldn't care about the club that she had grown fond of. She couldn't even react to the fact that something so terrible was happening in a place she was just in a few days ago. She turned as the thoughts rushed through her mind and quickly began to sketch in her notebook to show her friend just how uniterested she was in the conversation.

“Awe you really wanted to make me happy?” Alya asked as she watched her friend add a few details to the hem of a skirt she had sketched onto the page.

“Of course. That's not exactly my scene.” Marinette emphasized her words with a grossed out face and an eye roll to her friend. Alya chuckled and leaned away from her then, falling for the girls soft lie easily.

“Yeah you will definitely become a crazy cat lady when we graduate. With only one really famous reporter coming to visit her friend who never leaves her house.” She dramatically hung her arm over her head as she spoke causing Marinette to giggle lightly.

“No, not cats at least. I personally like hamsters.” She stated through her giggles.

“Breaking news at 11 the town shut in Marinette Dupain-Cheng found dead and half eaten by her starving collection of twenty hamsters. More to come after a word from our sponsors.” Both girls broke out in a fit of laughter after Marinette threw a pencil at Alya in response to her dramatic acting. They settled into a comfortable silence then, until Alyas phone began to go off with a slew of rapid text messages from Nino, each one coming in interrupting the bass beat of the ringtone before resuming it.

“Someone is missing date night.” Marinette teased as her blogger friend grew redder and redder with each text she read.

“Uh, hehe obvious huh?” Alya was uncharacteristically shy as she looked up at Marinette over her phone. The young designer in training simply smiled and waved towards her door, motioning to her friend that it was okay for her to go. Alya nodded her thanks and gave her one more suffocating hug before she bounded from the dorm and out of sight. She sighed and shook her head as her door clicked shut and felt her lips pull into a small smile. Alya made having a relationship look like fun, but she couldn't get involved with anyone, not until after she was settled into the fashion industry and had made a name for herself.

She couldn't get herself into a relationship, but she could have fun once in a while. Alya was on a date and would be nowhere near the club so she knew she was in the clear there. She quickly checked to make sure her door was locked and no one would be able to simply walk in on her changing before pulling a box out of the thin space between her bed and floor. Inside the box was her secret projects that had taken up most of her time the last few weeks. Ladybug printed lingerie and tight fitting ladybug inspired dresses and skirts filled the wide box and shoved in one corner rested a pair of black pumps with red spots swirling up the heels of the shiny shoes.

She changed quickly, hands shaking from the excitement that grew in her belly as she watched herself add each piece of the bright red and black fabric to her cream colored skin. She admired her look for a moment before grabbing her long brown trench coat and, with a discontented sigh, covered herself up to hide the outfit. She reached into the box for a final piece of her ensemble and slid it carefully into the pocket of her coat. Who was Ladybug without her mask after all?

The club was a lot less crowded than it had been during her past visits. She didn't even see Kim manning the bar, he had been replaced by a tall man who was built in such a way that looking at him made her think of a silver back gorilla. She smiled at the thought and gave him a friendly little wave as she slid into her usual seat by the bar. He didn't pay her any attention as a sloppily already drunk red head yelled at him from the far side of the bar area. She could hear him grumbling to himself as he moved to fill her order and felt her curiosity pricking the back of her mind as she turned to study the strangers around her. The music in the room was quieter than she had ever experienced it being, a somber tone that caused her smile to slip into a small frown.

“You don't seem to be having much fun young lady.” She jumped and turn to see none other than Papllion himself standing beside her looking as stoic as he always had. She sat a bit straighter in her chair as a deep purple drink was pushed towards her by the grumpy bartender, “it is the signature drink of my club. I've seen you around quite a bit and simply wanted to thank you for your patronage.” He gave her a small bow and patted her shoulder before leaving her on her own to study the drink. It was deep purple at the top and swirled into a lighter color towards the center ending in an almost white color at the bottom of the glass. She lifted it to her nose and gave a careful sniff, it was sweet with a hint of spice that floated with undertones of alcohol and something she couldn't quite pinpoint.

She took a tentative sip and nodded at the delightful flavor that coated her tongue before swallowing it and humming happily at the warm sensation rolling down her throat. She had only ever drank a sex on the beach or two when she visited so this new drink was a pleasant experience that she hadn't been expecting at all. She looked up at the club owner who had resumed his post on the second story landing and raised the glass in a salute to him. His smile seemed a bit less sinister to her than it had the first time she saw him, the thought caused her to giggle to herself as she took another drink from the glass.

An hour passed, then another, people around her began to slip away, to where she didn't know as she drank glass after glass of the clubs signature drink. It was growing on her faster than any other beverage she had been forced into trying before and she found her body feeling lighter and tingly all over as she pushed the fifth empty glass away from her. Her vision swam as she leaned herself against the bar, the surface of which pushed the underside of her breasts and caused them to seem larger and fuller than they usually did. No one spoke to her since the owner ordered her drink and she was grateful for that, if some random guy tried to buy her a drink she would either give in and end up making out with him outside or get so nervous that she threw up purple liquid all over him. This she was surprised to the point of actually jumping in her seat when the bartender passed her a tray of peanut butter crackers and shot her a look that told her to eat them. She smiled at him feebly and lifted a cracker to her lips. As the salty snack slipped into her mouth she felt a strong hand on her shoulder and looked up to see the bartender nodding to whoever was standing behind her. She swallowed and opened her mouth to ask what was going on when a sharp stinging sensation in the back of her neck caused her to wince and cry out in both surprise and pain.

Her vision blurred even more before a wall of black moved in from the edges to fill it completely. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she fell forward, barely missing slamming her face on the bar top when she was caught by the strange hands of the barkeeper grabbing her shoulders. Her mind swam with confused thoughts before everything just seemed to pause. Her thoughts going blank as her senses fell away, giving in to the drug that was forced into her system.

Chapter 2: end

Chapter 3: coming soon

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