#white socks and the dress is too childish

[cozy-the-overlord]

I find it very fascinating how a simple change in color can completely alter the way a person views an outfit. When I bought this dress and tried it on, I was wearing black knee high socks, and my mom made a comment about how sexy the dress was — she asked me if I was sure I wanted it, because "it's a little risqué." I am currently wearing the exact same dress, styled in the exact same way, except my knee high socks are white instead of black, and my mom just told me that I looked like a little girl.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

that sock garters post + your businessman steve tags.... mr s i am thinking!!! baby bucky on his knees, while steve instructs him to take it off using only his mouth 😩

'no hands, pup', steve says to him, while bucky whines on the floor, the leash attached to his collar willing him to obey, to be good for his daddy 🥴

related to this

I AM SO GLAD YOU SENT THIS ASK.

I was thinking about that, and, in my head, I just... all I see is this Steve:

I know that was a suit for a funeral in the film but, just, put that out of your mind for now. Focus on how good he looks...

His square jaw and perfect, swept back hair paired with his smart sunglasses and sure mouth. The jacket is perfectly tailored to his broad, wide shoulders, and that classic white shirt and waistcoat underneath are well fitted, too. His waistcoat even has a cinch in the back to fit his sculpted, trim waist--extenuating it. His belt is polished and tight, holding his slacks in place, showing off the length of his legs with their traditional, straight fit. The fabric of his slacks is smooth and makes the softest, most pleasant swish, swish, swish as he struts, all confidence and power. Heads turn, necks break.

There are details throughout. The cinch of his waistcoat. The perfectly pressed fabric. The butter-soft, shining leather of his belt and shoes. There are even details where they're invisible, underneath that perfect, polished exterior--his sleeveless undershirt has even been pressed and clings to him like a second skin, his briefs are clinging and smooth as well, and, of course, his socks and their garters.

Steve slipped his feet into his sensible, all black work socks early, just after briskly showering, styling his hair with a round brush and blow drier, whistling to pass the time, dressing himself meticulously, building his outfit from his classic wardrobe, and setting his coffee to start. He points his toes and steps into them after rolling the legs of his pants up to just below his knees. After, he soothes any creases in his socks. He pulls the elastic garters up, attaches them, and takes another moment to smooth things out. He slides into his shiny, unblemished work shoes. Then, he unrolls his slacks, hiding his socks and garters. Finally, he stands, rising to his full, impressive height, buttons his suit jacket and swiftly moves into the kitchen, catching his coffee and toast. There's enough time for a quick flick through the newspaper, sitting at their wooden dining table in the open-plan kitchen and hosting space, before he has to run off to work, smelling like coffee and subtle cologne.

On especially bright, ideal days, Bucky wakes up in time to bundle himself in a fuzzy robe, tumble his way out of bed--half rubbing the sleep from his eyes and half winding his hair into a bed-headed mess that's more out of his face, tied back--to lean against the kitchen doorway, watching his immaculate partner go through his well-timed routine. There's always an extra minute for Steve to hum at the sight of him, planting a kiss on his sleep-warm cheek, and hand him the last half of his coffee in its pleasantly steaming mug.

So, yes, Steve is the well-dressed, well-mannered every day man. When he wants to, he has the skills to talk his way into and out of anything. It's why he makes a fantastic business man.

But...

That's also why he makes such a perfect dominant. He can come home from a long, busy day, a sigh on the cusp of falling from his lips, but restrain. He doesn't need to resort to such frivolous, even childish actions like pouting when he instead can allow himself to settle on the wooden bench in their home's entryway for a moment. Before he can even reach for his shoes himself, his wonderful partner and pet is scrambling to greet him--always such a pretty, eager thing.

"Daddy," his eyes are bright, and so is his voice, even if it's mostly breath. A gorgeous sort of purr.

"Buck," Steve hums, eagerly drinking in the way he folds onto his knees between Steve's thighs. Once he's in position, Steve lets one heavy, big hand card through his long, silky hair. He loves the way it glides through his hands like water. "Hi, puppy."

"Hi," such a sweet thing, he's already blushing. Warm and affectionate, just like a puppy should be.

"How was your day, pup?" Steve asks, genuinely curious.

"Good," Bucky brushes a warm kiss to his knee, "did the usual."

"That's good," he approves.

"Mmm-hmm," Bucky bites his lip.

Watching over the handsome, slightly-crooked line of his nose, Steve inquires, "anything elsw you want to ask, pup?"

"Uh," he flushes a shade darker, "uh-huh."

"Ask away then, silly boy," he rumbles.

His puppy gives a happy wiggle, "can I..." he drags his sky-blue eyes down the line of his legs, "can I help, Daddy?"

"I'd love that, Buck," he smiles.

"Okay," he wiggles again. If he had a tail, it'd be thumping against the floor. His whole body leans closer to the floor, too, squirming down and reaching for the laces of his shoes.

"No hands, pup, remember your manners," Steve murmurs. His chest full and happy.

Bucky audibly swallows what should've been a whine. His excitement boiling over, "yes, Daddy," he whispers.

Then, his sweet boy brings his mouth to the tops of his shoes and delicately positions the aglet between his front teeth, tugging his head back gently, just enough to unwind the tie. He loosens his shoelaces carefully--right then left--and is extra careful and affection to nose around his ankles. Nuzzling in. Tracing the sharp, strong shapes of the lateral and medial melleolus as well as the front of his tibia through his socks and slacks. Bucky's curious nose is vaguely cold, but Steve doesn't care.

When he asks so prettily for help, Steve lifts his feet, one then the other in turn, out of his dress shoes. Then, Bucky takes the first of his shoes into his mouth, holding it securely but not hard enough to leave teeth marks in the nice, polished leather, and crawls on his hands and knees across the entryway to place the shoe in the appropriate place on their organized rack. The handsome sway of his hips as he moves is hypnotic. The only thing that would make this better would be if he were naked--Steve knows the wings of his shoulderblades, the notches of his spine, the breadth of his hips, and the length of this thighs well. But a reminder never hurt anyone.

Bucky fetches and returns the second shoe just as beautifully as he does the first.

He's breathtaking even in the poor, dim evening lighting of the front of their house. Well trained and so obedient. He melts stunningly into his role--little hearts in his hazy eyes, lips pink, warm breaths so heated with content pleasure they come out in soft clouds. Perfect.

They eat dinner in near silence, comfortable and unhurried. The clink and clanking of their plates, cutlery, and glasses.

Then, they end the evening with Bucky back at his feet, one of his hands securely wrapped around Steve's ankle, before he changes out of his work clothes. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, Bucky's fingers flirt with the tops of his socks and the garters keeping them in place. Mindless. He's so sweet and pretty, it's all Steve can do to pull him into his lap, wrap his legs around his waist, and carry him to bed where he scarcely can unzip and pull himself out before ravaging him on their perfectly made bed.

Steve thrusts into him deep and hard, his arousal coiling tightly in the carnal pleasure of his hot, wet body, of course, but mostly he pulls his arousal from the watery, overwhelmed tears building in his puppy's eyes and the soft, helpless whines he makes and the trembling pout of his lips made especially worse when Steve spares one hand from holding his weight up over his puppy, rutting into him, to choke him instead.

Bucky paws at his wrist with both hands, not trying to get him to stop, trying to make him grab harder even as he gasps and moans silently.

Steve vows right then and there that tomorrow, he's calling off work, and they're going to go shopping. His puppy needs a collar and leash. He's so well trained that he doesn't need them to obey, but his Daddy wants it. He wants it all. He wants him so bad. His good boy. He wants it complete with a tag, silver inscribed with his contact information. His puppy.

"Mine." Steve growls, kissing him on the mouth. Hard.

"Yes!" Bucky cries, his eyes rolling back, so stuffed full of cock that he's choking--he'd be choking even if there weren't a hand on his throat.

Yes yes yes, oh, God, yes, he feels so owned and fucked and good.

[lovesick-and-inadequate]

A Child in the Eyes of a God

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Post ready, please view with caution.

Summary: If you're going to act like a brat, Zhongli has no reason to treat you like an adult.

TW; gn reader, yandere content, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, forced feminization, infantilization, yandere Zhongli, non consensual touching, forced (non-sexual) DDLG (?), 

What use did Zhongli have to treat you as your age when you scream and cry and beg for him to let you go, to leave you alone, to stop touching you.

You throw fit after fit, refusing to do anything other than sit on your bed and pout like a toddler when he doesn't do what you so desperately demand of him.

And the times you do behave, it's only if he promises to reward you.

He'll wave a key in the air, saying that if you stop whining about the chains hurting your ankles and your mattress being so uncomfortable that it hurts, that he'll take the chains off and let you sleep in his bed - with him of course.

And it works, for a while.

But then you start to complain that he touches you too much when you share a bed, he holds you too tightly and you can't move. That you get too warm at night and can't sleep.

And your voice gets so annoyingly high pitched and whiny that he gets a headache whenever you beg and squirm in his grip. 

So, really, what use does he have to treat you your age? To treat you like the ‘independent adult’ you seem to claim you are? 

Which is why he took it upon himself to act as a caretaker in the supposed relationship. He swaps out your wardrobe for frilly dresses, cute thigh high socks, shoes that are more for display than actual wear and too many childish accessories.

He changes he basement, painting the walls like a pastel sky with clouds and birds. The furniture is switched for furniture made more for display than actual use. And your bed. Zhongli buys a king sized bed with pink sheets and white pillowcases, a beautiful canopy drapes over it from it’s anchor on the ceiling.

And you despise it. 

You hate everything he did to what was supposed to be your bedroom - though you never viewed it as more than a cell.

The cutesy dressed he forced onto you, only to lace up tighter than they need to be, leaving you breathless. The Mary janes that were just slightly too tight to be comfortable.

Everything about it was wretched. 

He treated you like a child, forcing you to drink out of kiddy cups and eat with plastic cutlery and dishes. You weren’t aloud in the kitchen without his permission and supervision, and even then, you were only aloud to use the fridge and microwave, with his assistance of course.

And anything you did in protest got you nothing but coos and forced physical affection, because obviously you were just having a tantrum. 

When you finally, truly broke, after nights of crying in the basement and thrashing when he tried to put makeup on you, you gave up. You caved in and slowly, you accepted your fate.

You realized there was no escape from this place, and no escape from him. So, you simply gave up. You let him treat you like a doll, dressing you up, delicately applying makeup, and pose you for the kamera.

And he truly loved it. Loved having complete control over you.

[kickmebare]

“She was all rose and honey, dressed in her brightest gingham, with a pattern of little red apples, and her arms and legs were of a deep golden brown, with scratches like tiny dotted lines of coagulated rubies, and the ribbed cuffs of her white socks were turned down at the remembered level, and because of her childish gait, or because I had memorized her as always wearing heelless shoes, her saddle oxfords looked somehow too large and too high-heeled for her.” - Lolita, 1955

[fleurelinathehybrid]

💛[Chapter 2: Consequences of a joke]💛

Desire couldn't help theirself and went to tell their twin, Despair of the Endless, about their recent prank.

—My twin, I am in my gallery and I hold your seal. —their recited as they took the ring-hook and placed a kiss on its tip. —I need to tell you something, will you come or will you let me pass?

The presence of a robust and disheveled woman dressed in a khaki wool sweater with gray accents, probably dirty sports pants and worn socks; sitting in one of its crimson-colored sofa-chair filled the blond with emotion. Although, on the contrary, Despair looked very serious and with her arms crossed.

—Now what did you do, Desire? —she questioned her twin, implying that she knew they hadn't done anything good.

—Oh come on! Get that long face off. —they tried to cheer her up, but it wasn't working. Then they proceeds to lean towards their sister as soon as they gets close to her. —I played a prank on one of our elders.

— Who?

—Guess. —they smiles from ear to ear, showing their white teeth.

Despair grabs the bridge of her nose, very upset, and then opens one eye. —You bothered Dream again, didn’t you?

They wrinkled their nose, keeping their bright smile. A clear sign that it was true.

—Do you really want to be killed? You know perfectly well that next time I won't be able to defend you from our elder's wrath.

Desire rolls their eyes, already fed up with the same old refrain. —Yeah, yeah, yeah. Same old thing. And you know I’m not scared of him, too.

—You shouldn’t take this lightly. —she says, crossing her legs as she plays with her hook. —Is that all, or are you going to tell me something else?

—You won't ask what I used for the prank? —the Endless of Desires rests their face on his arms as they places theirself on their twin's lap, waiting for a bit of her touch.

Despair sighs, defeated. And she strokes Desire’s hair. — What did you play the joke on him with?

—With a box of chocolates that I placed on his throne. The fool swallowed the whole box. —they laughs, while receiving caresses from their twin.

—Knowing you, I don't want to even think about what you put in the chocolates. —the Endless of Despair murmurs, earning a sly smile. —He's going to kill you.

—Nah, what I put on him isn't going to hurt him. It's much better, he'll even thank me for it.

[💛💛💛]

Regret is a very genuine emotion of regret among humans, showing how someone who made a wrong decision must feel. It can be shown after a fight, or if there is no having studied for an exam or not having cleaned up after the dog.

Well, it's true that Endless was experiencing that feeling. At the same time, he was dealing with another at that very moment.

Pain.

Not a few minutes after eating the strange box of chocolates and while creating his new nightmare, the nightmare creator had begun to feel a strange pang of pain in the belly as in the head. First it was what humans called a "migraine," a small but stabbing pain that I could bear.

Unfortunately, that pain became more constant in both places. In the belly, it would be what many human women called "cramps"; on the other hand, in the head, what many called "migraine"

He paused his creation for a moment, needing to feel better in order to continue. In the meantime, he needed to rest. So he asked Lucienne to take care of his kingdom for a while.

Already in his chambers, he did not hesitate and lay down on his bed, but not before changing his ordinary clothes for a black robe, for more comfort.

He closed his eyes to calm down, began to sweat and try to remember where the discomfort could have come from.

He didn't need to investigate much to discover that it was the gift that his sister Death had left for him on his throne. Or perhaps he had been tricked.

Maybe they weren't from Death. They were the lure of a trap.

Or a childish joke.

Yes, they had to be a joke. And the worst part was that he knew who could have played it on him.

He was genuinely going to regret taking that box. For the rest of his eternity.

[mybadlywrittenstories]

Two Different Worlds (Jasper Hale Fanfiction) Chapter Two

Word Count: 2,699

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

A chorus of grumbled profanities left my chapped lips as my hand searched blindly for my deafening alarm. Once the alarm was silenced, I groggily opened my eyes, rubbing the crusted sleep from my eyes as I did. Looking over to my clock I saw the time read 6:02am. A sense of anxiety began to fill my chest as I realized today would be my first day at my new high school.

It seemed childish to worry about something so trivial as going to a new school especially when I would only be here for the next few months. The typical 'what if I get lost' and 'what if no one likes me?' echo in my head regardless. Childish or not, I was still worried. Which is why I decided to get up so god-awfully early. To make the absolute best first impression I could, this was a small town after all. I'm sure whatever gossip spreads around about me is going to be based mainly on how today goes.

My body protested as I clamored out of bed, desperate for more rest. I didn't forfeit and go back to bed though, I dragged myself in the shower carrying my toiletries basket with me and grabbing two towels from the hallway closet on my way. I went through my typical shower routine, the mundane task did little to help wake me up. There was however a sense of comfort in the familiar tasks such as scrubbing my hair with my coconut-scented shampoo and washing my face with some bubbly cleanser Abbi had let me 'permeantly borrow'. Even tho I was across the country, some things were still the same. It was a pleasant reminder that they were still there for me, regardless of the distance.

As I left the shower I dried my hair to the best of my ability with the first of my two towels, wrapping the second securely around my frame. I made a mental note that I'd have to ask Bella if she brought our shared hair dryer. I rubbed some coconut oil into the length of my hair and combed through its length with my fingers. Moving onto my face I applied a sweet-scent moisturizer to my face. Lastly, I brushed my teeth for a solid three minutes and used Charlie's Spirimint mouthwash.

Once I felt properly cleaned, I made my way out of the bathroom, dropping my hair towel and dirty pajamas into the hallway hamper, and went back into my room. Good impression... Good impression... Repeated in my mind as I tore through my suitcases looking for something to wear. I threw my red corduroy pants onto my bed, then looked for a matching shirt. The weather in Forks was wildly different than in Arizona, so my shirt selection was limited. After about five minutes of my irritating search, I landed on my thick white sweater. The only sweater in my wardrobe; I mentally noted I may want to pick up a few extra shirts and pants the next time I was close to a department store.

--Ding Ding Ding

I heard the distant sound of Bella's alarm going off in her room, followed quickly by the muffled sluggish footsteps of her getting up to go use the restroom. Sparing a glance at my digital clock I saw it was already 7:20, meaning I had about an hour to do my makeup, and hair, and then eat before we had to be on our way to school.

I rustled through my bags again searching for a pair of socks, underwear, and bra, then swiftly got dressed. I took a seat in the old leather desk chair my father had bought me secondhand a few years ago, and started to apply my makeup. I am by no means a pro makeup artist so I settled for a little bit of concealer, lipgloss, light blush and highlighter, and some pink-tinted eyeshadow mixed with a light brown; dabbing a light dusting of the highlighter around the tear ducts of my eyes. As far as hair went, I never got very fancy with it, opting to quickly brush my hair out to ensure no knots, then slapping a scrunchie on my wrist just in case the wind proved to be too much today.

I grabbed my pair of dusty white sketchers with me, as I made my way out of my room. My dirty towel was left forgotten on my bedroom floor. I could hear Bella still getting ready in her room and decided I would make something for the both of us to eat before school. I clamored down the staircase and into the kitchen, as I browsed through the kitchen I realized I'd have to stop by the store sometime soon to stock up the Kitchen. Charlie seemingly had been living on scraps for god knows how long.

I placed two pieces of wheat bread into the toaster and pushed down the lever, then poured some slightly stale-looking Cheerios into two bowls and placed the milk on the table. I buttered the toast once it was done cooking and placed one piece in front of each of the bowls. As I poured milk into my bowl, I heard Bella's door slam open followed by the clumsy footsteps of her coming downstairs. She wore a simple green button-up shirt and grey long-sleeve ensemble, paired typically with a pair of dark skinny jeans. It wasn't anything fancy but it was very Bella.

"I made breakfast" I stated as she entered the Kitchen, "It's nothing fancy Dad doesn't have much." I finished before eating my meal, she hummed in agreement before sitting down silently and picking at the piece of toast.

"Should we go grocery shopping?" She asked, pouring the milk into her bowl.

"Yeah, probably," I answered before shoving a mouthful of cereal into my mouth. Once I swallowed I continued, "I have a half schedule here, since I completed most of my credits back in Arizona. If you don't mind I could take your truck once I am done, then pick some stuff up at the market."

She hummed in consideration, then nodded her head, "Yeah that'll work. Just don't take too long. I don't want to wait in this weather." She said, wrinkling her nose up in disgust.

"I'll be quick, don't worry."

We finished eating in silence, not an uncomfortable silence. This is how it was often like with Bella, she was always content to sit in silence. No need for unnecessary chit-chat.

Bella took both our dishes to the sink and started to speedily rinse them off. I took the time to check my back backpack and make sure everything I'd be needing was tucked away safely.

Books- Check. Notepad- Check. Pencil Pouch- Check. iPod- Check. Earbuds- Check.

I tucked my small flip phone in the side pocket, everything I'd need to survive the day. Neatly packed up, ready to go. As Bella came into the small hallway, she handed me a small wad of cash.

"From the grocery fund."

"Thanks."

We both put on our jackets, lugged our school bags onto our shoulders, and laced up of sneakers. She grabbed her new car keys off the small hook and opened the door for me. I nodded my head in thanks as we made our way out in the frigid early morning.

The drive to school went smoothly, her engine roared to life almost comically loud. Suddenly, I was thankful Charlie had gifted this old truck to Bella instead of me; I could feel the eyes turning towards us as we slowly drove by through the town. I'm surprised it didn't seem to make a difference to her, typically she hates having the attention drawn on her.

We made it to the school a lot quicker than we had expected. The school being on the other side of town didn't hold as much of a punch as it did back in Phoenix. It took us less than ten minutes to make it to Forks High. The parking lot was already busy and bustling full of students, all of whom turned their eyes to watch the unfamiliar old truck roll up; Alerted due to the sound of the engine.

Bella was quick to park in the nearest available space and shut off the engine. Her cheeks dusted a light pink-- Ah so the noise does bother her. A small smirk tugged at my lips, it was a tad cruel but it did seem fair. She gets a free car, she deserves a light sprinkling of public humiliation.

We made our way into the school office together, thankfully it wasn't hard to find. This school was not even a quarter the size of our old high school. The lady sitting at the front desk was a rather large woman, with big red hair; a few streaks of grey mixed into the wild web of hair. On top of her nose sat a pair of round glasses which seemed to shrink her already small eyes. On the desk in front of her lay a nameplate 'Shelly Cope'

"Well good morning, the Swan girls I presume?" She asked, her voice was sweet but had a certain stern edge to it. No doubt caused by her many years working with unruly teens.

"Yes ma'am," I answered for both of us, "We just needed to pick up our class schedules."

"I see, I see." She mumbled moving around a few papers on her desk. "Just give me a minute, dear. I know I had them around here somewhere..." She trailed off.

Me and Bella stood there awkwardly as she frantically searched through the mounds of paper littered across her desk. That familiar anxious thrumming of my heartbeat in my chest, I don't know why but a sense of extreme unease started to wash over me. It was making me nauseous.

"Here we go, girls!" Ms. Cope exclaimed lifting up two bundles of paper. "This one is for you Isabella." She stated holding out a piece of paper for Bella to grab. Bella made an unhappy noise at the use of her full name, but grabbed the paper regardless; mumbling a quiet thank you. "And this one is for you, dear," She handed me a stack of three papers. "You'll have a class schedule, a map of the school, and an attendance sheet. Please make sure your teachers sign the attendance sheet and then turn it back into me at the end of your classes." She finished, a genuine warm smile spreading across her face.

"Will do."

"No problem."

We both walked out of the office and looked at our class schedules. Both of us groaned when we were reminded of Forks High's most frustrating policy. Mandated Gym all four years. I could take some solace in the fact I only had three periods, and the last one I'd be able to go immediately home and shower-- assuming it was a particularly sweaty workout.

Bella peered over to my schedule and let out a sigh when she saw we shared no classes together. I put a reassuring arm around her should and dragged her away from the parking lot. "Don't worry, Bells. Time will fly by at school you'll hardly notice I'm gone." I joked, giving her shoulder a soft squeeze.

"I just thought it would be nice if at least you were in some of my classes, would be nice to not be completely alone."

It stung at my heart to hear the tone in her voice, maybe I could stay for her lunch period after my gym class. Make sure she wasn't wallowing in self pity by herself at lunch. "Don't stress about it to much, you dork. I'll come eat with you at lunch, how does that sound?"

"I guess that would be okay."

"See you then, Bells! Now let's get to class." I urged, and we parted ways. My first period was English with a Mr. Berty. Second Period was Trigonometry with Mr. Varner. Then lastly, Gym with Coach Clapp. I unfolded the map in my small stack paper and tried to pinpoint my first class. It didn't take me very long to find where I was supposed to go, the map seemed pretty straight forward. So on my way I went, following the map and the few signs scattered around the bustling halls.

As the minutes ticked by, the halls started to thin out and pretty soon I was alone in the long hallway staring down at the map that started to seem more and more complex as time went on. I swear the class should be right here, but as I looked through the windows of the classroom all I saw was vacant rooms. Stacked up chairs and desks in the corner. How the hell did I end up here?

"Are you lost?" A voice called from shockingly close behind me, an angelic voice that was captivatingly alluring. I turned to see who had spoken and my heart skipped a beat. A small frail looking girl stood in front of me, her short spikey hair perfectly framing her ungodly beautiful face accentuating her abnormally gold tinted eyes. A small sense of fear started to snake it's way through my body, causing confusion to swirl around in my head. I was only about 5'3 but I almost toward over this angel on earth, there was no reason for me to fear her; and yet here I was heart beating quickly, hands becoming more clammy by the second.

"Uhm," I cleared my throat, trying to push away my unease, "Well, yes. I thought this was the way to my English class but I seem to have gotten turned around somewhere." I explained sheepishly.

Her melodious laugh broke the awkward silence that had encapsulated us. "How perfect." She sung, clapping her small hands together, a genuine smile spreading across her face. "I was just heading there when I saw you wondering around over here. Why don't you walk with me?" She offered, beaming up at me.

"That's very kind of you," I smiled, her genuine kindness dissipated my unease, I motioned down the hall for her, "After you."

A small giggle escaped her mouth yet again, "That's the wrong way, Cali. We have to go back the way you came. You turned left when you should've gone right." She stated, grabbing my hand and leading me along with her. She was exuding such optimism I almost missed her used of my nickname.

"How did you know my name was Cali?" I asked, trying to pull my hand back to my side in skepticism, but her iron clad grip didn't weaken. Without missing a single beat she responded to my question, "Oh I suppose I got a bit ahead of myself." Her light skip towards the end of the hall slowed and she looked over at me as she continued, "I'm Alice Cullen, and trust me everyone knows about you and you sister Isabella. You've been the talk of the town." I cringed slightly at the thought of my dad running around talking about me, hopefully he didn't tell anyone anything to embarrassing. What she said covered everything, except one small detail. I could see her mouth twitch the second I opened my mouth to speak.

"How did you know I went by Cali though?" I pondered, noticing the smallest glint in her eye, "Most people call me by my first name Calliope, at least when we first meet." I explained, nervous I had upset her going off the look on her face.

Her face perked up within the second, quickly responding, "Well I wasn't positive but you don't look like the type to go by Calliope, call it a lucky guess."

"Ah I see, that's fair. Very lucky guess." Her face lit up and she picked up her quick skip as we neared the end of the empty hall, "You'll learn that about me pretty quickly, my dear. I make very lucky guesses." She sung before we stopped outside of a door, right as the bell rang. "Here it is."

[fatherfigurefusion]

Introducing you to the cast of Downfall of the Uprising (1/4):

(You might already know the first two characters from my drawings of them, but I have since mentally updated them. If anyone could draw them, I would be so happy!)

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Arata Kocho

Talent: Ultimate (Criminal) Reformer

Birthday: June 28th (Cancer)

Gender: FTM (he/him)

Sexuality: pansexual

Height: 5 FT 9 IN (175 cm)

Likes: butterflies and gardening

Dislikes: sharp objects and stairs

Appearance: An average build, shaggy dark grey hair that goes past his shoulders and is tied into a side plait (with an ahoge that curves to the left), icy blue eyes with the left one hidden behind an off-white eyepatch, a light grey sweater vest with a darker grey argyle pattern over an off-white dress shirt, dark grey pants, off-black socks, and bluish-grey loafers, an almost-black sidebag with navy blue butterfly designs stitched into it.

Arata gained his title from starting and managing an organization dedicated to the rehabilitation of teenage delinquents. As his title and profession would attest to, Arata is optimistic and a firm believer in the idea that people can always change for the better. This vehement belief of his leads to his dislike for people that are too black-and-white in their mindsets, which leads to Arata treating those that adhere to such beliefs with a more condescending tone. In spite of his beliefs coloring his views on others, Arata always tries to be as polite and kind as possible to everyone, and is willing to give everyone the benefit of doubt, no matter how much they may irk him. According to others, he is noted for having a "calming presence".

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Seiji Igarashi

Talent: Ultimate Whistleblower

Birthday: February 4th (Aquarius)

Gender: male (he/him)

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 5 FT 3 IN (160 cm)

Likes: punk music and kiwis

Dislikes: cosmetics and politicians

Appearance: An average yet scrawny build, surprisingly-smooth chestnut brown hair with a thin ahoge in the center, green eyes with noticeable bags that appear to glow when emotional, a black blazer with a red logo on the back over an unzipped green hoodie, which is also over a white dress shirt, black and red fingerless gloves, black pants, red and white sneakers.

Famous for his work in exposing various corrupt business owners over the internet, Seiji (also known by his internet handle of JUSTORM) garnered a massive online following of people determined to follow his every move and carry out "justice". Unfortunately, this bold and determined online personality hardly matches Seiji's real life personality. In reality, thanks to spending most of his days holed up in his room, he is rather socially inept and gullible. Because of that, he gets lead by the nose rather often and is easily susceptible to flattery, for, in spite of his awkward personality, he holds his talent with great pride. There are some allegations that Seiji's perception of justice is "childish", "naive", or too "black-and-white", but these allegations hardly hold any water.

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

Hatsue Furukawa

Talent: Ultimate Museum Curator

Birthday: August 10th (Leo)

Gender: female (she/her)

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 5 FT 5 IN (165 cm)

Likes: antique shops and coffee

Dislikes: windy weather and frosting

Appearance: A thin and dainty build, waist-length orange hair that curls into ringlets near the ends, a brown beret on top of her head, brown eyes framed by thin round glasses, a black vest with orange buttons and edges over a white dress shirt and a red tie, black gloves, an orange skirt, black leggings, and brown loafers.

The Furukawa family runs one of the oldest and most popular museums in Japan, with Hatsue functioning as their primary curator, being in charge of both researching and maintaining the museum's many artifacts and exhibits. Because the Furukawas are very close-knit, Hatsue holds family very close to her heart, with that attitude even extending to those she considers friends. But considering her socially-awkward personality, the circle of people she considers to be friends are rather limited, and the leadership that comes with that talent doesn't really extend beyond the museum. Because of her talent, she is highly knowledgable in just about every aspect of history, and would readily jump at the chance to explain all she knows to you. 

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

Hikari Takamine

Talent: Ultimate Athletic Trainer

Birthday: September 1st (Virgo)

Gender: MTF (she/her)

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 5 FT 6 IN (167 cm)

Likes: steak and bees

Dislikes: smoke and swimming pools

Appearance: A surprisingly scrawny build, midback-length black hair with yellow streaks resembling lightning bolts dyed into it and tied into a high ponytail, golden eyes, a yellow track jacket with black stripes on the sleeves and some additional white and red details over a black sports bra with a simple yellow lightning bolt logo on the front, black athletic shorts, black and yellow sneakers, bandages wrapped around both her arms and legs, has white knee and arm braces.

Garnering fame for her skills in educating and training prospective athletes several years her senior, Hikari is all about the grind and working hard to achieve your dreams, even if she has to be a bit harsh or loud to accomplish this. During tense situations, Hikari takes it upon herself to be the leader and keep everybody else from getting hurt or killed, which means she can be quite overbearing at times. Her strong sense of responsibility means that she takes failure hard and can have difficulty recovering when it seems like she's failed someone. In spite of what her talent would suggest, Hikari is noticeably uncomfortable with undertaking strenuous exercises herself, and would much rather help other people achieve the dreams that she can't. 

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

I'd love to hear your thoughts so far on them!

[erinbeast]

Demographics

1. Name: Erin

2. Age: 32

3. Sex/Gender: Agender

4. Ethnicity: American

5. Occupation: Office Coordinator

6. Socioeconomic status: Middle Class

7. Education: Some college (Went for degree in Graphic Design)

8. Other notes:

‍

Physical Appearance

1. Eye color: Green

2. Skin color: Grey/Black/White

3. Hair color: Blonde Blue fluff

4. Height: 5’8”

5. Weight: 130 lb

6. Body type: Slim

7. Fitness level: Good

8. Tattoos: Assassin’s Creed “Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted” on inner forearms, Boo and ShyGuy on right shoulder, Doom insignia on left shoulder, Dead Space marker/Isaac mask on lower left forearm, Cheshire cat on right thigh, Iris flowers on left collarbone, Slipknot S on back of neck, Eyeball Squid on left thigh, Time is Now, Now is Forever on inner wrists.

9. Scars/Birthmarks: Covered in small scars from various accidents and such.

10. Other distinguishing features: Is a lemur

11. Disabilities: ADHD and Bi-Polar

12. Fashion style: Sweater dresses, tight low jeans, boots of all kinds, thigh high socks, crop tops,

13. Accessories: Multiple piercings on face including, Gauged ear lobes, quadruple helix on left ear, industrial in right ear, septum piercing, VCH, two lower lip,

14. Cleanliness/Grooming: Showers everyday, lets hair do whatever it wants.

15. Posture/Gait: Good posture, quick walk

16. Tics: Bounces leg all the time, fidgets(always has figdget toys with them)

17. Coordination (or lack thereof): Average coordination

18. Weaknesses: Stubborn as a mule, minor temper problem, BRAT

19. Other notes:

History

1. Birth date: 19 Dec

2. Place of birth: Hahn, Germany

3. Key family members: Mom

4. Notable events/milestones: Born, raised, went to college, dropped out of college, got job in retail, finally got out of retail

5. Criminal record: None

6. Affiliations: Themselves

7. Skeletons in the closet:

8. Other notes:

Psychological Traits

1. Personality type: Brat, likes to tease and play

2. Personality traits: Stubborn, affectionate, playful, temperamental,

3. Temperament: Certain things (Views on things) tend to rile them up as well as being ignored.

4. Introvert/Extrovert: Introvert

5. Mannerisms: A bit childish

6. Educational background: Finished High school average student, went to college but ultimately burned out/flunked

7. Intelligence: Average, loves learning new things, especially random trivia

8. Self-esteem: High, they love showing off

9. Hobbies: Crafting whether it be painting, string art, origami, drawing, working with resin, or sewing and playing video games of all kinds

10. Skills/talents:

11. Loves: Ruckus Mommy, music, and video games

12. Morals/Virtues: Morally sound, knows right from wrong,

13. Phobias/Fears: Spiders and being abandoned

14. Angered by: Idiots

15. Pet peeves: Chewing loudly, stupidity, assumptions.

16. Obsessed with: Doom, Call of Duty Modern Warfare

17. Routines: None, they are play it by ear

18. Bad habits: Assuming things, picking at scabs and creating scars

19. Desires: Dom

20. Flaws: Slightly quick tempered, bratty

21. Quirks:

22. Favorite sayings: Mine, Mommy please, and No

23. Disabilities: None Physically

24. Secrets: Can lie but pretends to be bad at it

25. Regrets: None so far

26. Accomplishments:

27. Memories: Too many to list

28. Other notes:

Communication

1. Languages known: English, sporadic Spanish and German

2. Preferred communication methods: Text and speech

3. Accent: None

4. Style and pacing of speech: Quick talker, talks too fast sometimes and stumbles over words

5. Pitch: Medium high

6. Laughter: Hehehehehe

7. Smile: Maniac grin or laughter

8. Use of gestures: Uses hands to gesture when talking, hands go everywhere

9. Facial expressions: Can’t keep them quiet enough, their face says it all

10. Verbal expressions:

11. Other notes:

Strengths, Weaknesses, and Abilities

1. Physical strengths: Stamina

2. Physical weaknesses: Strength

3. Intellectual strengths: Art history, random trivia of all kinds

4. Intellectual weaknesses: Math, Science, Geography

5. Interpersonal strengths:

6. Interpersonal weaknesses:

7. Physical abilities: Nothing special

8. Magical abilities: None other than he is a lemur

9. Physical illnesses/conditions: None, Healthy

10. Mental illnesses/conditions: ADHD and Bi-polar depression

11. Other notes:

Relationships

1. Partner(s)/Significant other(s): Ruckus

2. Lover(s): Ruckus

3. Parents/Guardians: None

4. Children: None, he is baby

5. Grandparents: None

6. Grandchildren: None

7. Family: Dead

8. Pets: 6 cats and 1 dog

9. Best friends:

10. Friends: Ryan, Thurry, and Otter

11. Rivals: Themselves

12. Enemies: His own mind

13. Colleagues: Eh

14. Mentors/Teachers: Resents old lit teacher from high school

15. Idols/Role models: None, he doesn’t like comparing himself to others

16. Followers: Ruckus

17. Strangers: They exist, wish they would keep away

18. Non-living things: He likes them, they don’t talk back or argue

19. Clubs/Memberships: Brat Club

20. Social media presence: Tumblr and Twitter, occasionally watches TikTok, not huge on the trends though

21. Public perception of them: They do not care

[sleepycatten]

Here's alt text for everyone, copied from Samantha's repost on Twitter 💖

Panel 1.

The word Énouement is written in white, against a dark field of stars.

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows defines énouement as "the bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, where you can finally get the answers to how things turn out in the real world—who your baby sister would become, what your friends would end up doing, where your choices would lead you, exactly when you’d lose the people you took for granted—which is priceless intel that you instinctively want to share with anybody who hadn’t already made the journey, as if there was some part of you who had volunteered to stay behind, who was still stationed at a forgotten outpost somewhere in the past, still eagerly awaiting news from the front."

I think it's such a perfect word.

Leave it to the French.

My name, Samantha Richardson, sits in the corner of the panel, also written in white.

Panel 2: A child is asleep in a dark room. There is a stuffed dinosaur lying on top of them. A Dark Crystal poster hangs on the wall behind them, as well as a childish drawing of a T.rex.

Panel 3: Same scene, but a crack of light, as if from an opened door, falls across the child.

Panel 4: A person dressed in a long green coat and rolled-up pants stands in the middle of the room, which is again dark. The person is carrying a duffle bag. We see dinosaurs, books, and clothing strewn across the floor. The person says, "Hey."

Panel 5: The person sits on the child's bed, and we see now she is a woman with brown hair, grown out from a purple coloring job.

Panel 5: Close up on the woman, who, seeming to speak to the room in general, says, "So, I know how sad you are. I know how you cry yourself to sleep some nights."

"I know how angry you feel."

"How scared."

Panel 7: The woman picks up the stuffed dinosaur, which is green with widely-spaced, thin, purple stripe. She holds it almost timidly.

Panel 8: Close-up on the dinosaur head, which has a plaid white and blue patch sewn onto the neck. The woman says, "I know what the years that are coming are going to be like."

"And I am so sorry."

Panel 9: The woman holds the dinosaur gently to her cheek, and a darkness seems to gather behind her.

Panel 10: The darkness coalesces into a cloud over her head, and the woman buries her face into the dinosaur's back, hugging it tightly.

Panel 11: The woman pulls her face away from the stuffed dinosaur, and the dark cloud appears to break up.

Panel 12: The woman straightens, tears running down her face. The cloud dissipates.

Panel 13: The woman offers a small smile, still crying. She says, "But…"

Panel 14: There is a Boba Fett toy on the floor, a sock, a toy T.rex, and 2 issues of The Uncanny X-men comics, issues 167 and 168. The woman continues, "…You're going to have good times, too. You'll have amazing friends."

Panel 15: More floor. In this panel there is a blue, hard-back cover of The Book of Mormon, and a red scripture-marking pencil. The woman says, "You're going to serve a mission in Portugal. You're gonna fall in love."

Panel 16: The top of a night stand, we see a small plastic sauropod, a green army man with a bazooka, and an orange Swedish Dala horse. The woman's dialog reads: "You're going to visit Sweden. A lot."

Panel 17: Floor again, where a plastic two-headed dragon battles a knight and ranger. More dialog: "And…Dungeons and Dragons. It's totally going to change your life."

Panel 18: The woman is reaching hesitantly towards the child. The woman says, "And there's Jurassic Park, and SO many superhero movies, even if the X-men ones are kinda terrible."

Panel 19: The woman settles the stuffed Apatosaurus back on the child. She says, "You're actually going to wind up liking green beans, if they're not canned. Mushrooms, too."

Panel 20: Close up on the child, who appears to still be sleeping, their hand close to their chin. More dialog from the woman: "You're going to be happy, in your own strange way."

Panel 21: Close up on the woman's hands, half-covered by the green coat's sleeves, but with fingers laced uncomfortably. She says, "Even with all that, our secret is just going to keep on hurting, until the day comes when it just hurts too much to keep it anymore."

Panel 22: Close up on the woman's face, which looks pained. She is pressing the fingers of her left hand hard against her cheek.

Panel 23: We see through the window, which shows the same field of night sky as the first panel. The woman continues speaking. "But it doesn't get us," she says. "We are SO incredibly lucky."

Panel 24: A picture of a family of eight grouped together, except for a boy off to the side. The text reads: Families can be together forever, draw your family. The woman says, "And, oh, sweetie, they love us."

Panel 25: The woman, in profile, smiling. She says, "We finally get to tell them who we are, and they still love us, so, so much."

Panel 26: We see the earth, with the sun breaking over the edge of the atmosphere. The woman says, "And the weight, it just… it just falls off, and the world is just waiting there for us. I don't have the words to tell you how beautiful it is."

Panel 27: Back to the room. The woman is still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking on towards the child's still form. She says, "So… I guess I just wanted to come here to say 'thank you'."

Panel 28: Just dialog. "Thank you for carrying that weight. For being so strong, and so brave for so very long. Thank you for sticking around long enough for me to finally get here. I'm sorry it took me so long."

Panel 29: The woman stands, looking back at the child.

Panel 30: The child, eyes still shut in seeming sleep, says, "Do we still like dinosaurs?"

Panel 31: The woman gives a gentle smirk. looking down.

Panel 32: We see the woman with her hand in her open duffle bag, fishing around for something.

Panel 33: The woman pulls free a stuffed dinosaur.

Panel 34: A shot of the child in bed, eyes still closed. The woman stands next to the bed, holding the dinosaur she has pulled from the duffle bag in one hand.

Panel 35: White txt on a black background, which reads, "Thank you for waiting."

"I love you."

Panel 36: We see the child in bed again, the dinosaur from the woman's duffle bag in their hand. Another sliver of light falls over them, as if from an open door.

Panel 37: The child is still in bed, and the room is dark again. The dinosaur from the woman is gone.

[nightcall99]

Dreams from 15.8.24

Dream 1: I was getting ready to go somewhere, an event, it felt like my birthday. At first, there was time to get ready, I was trying on different outfits in the bathroom. I had on long black socks that went above my knees and platform converses. Someone said my shoes were outdated or like I was too old to be wearing them, I tried not to care. I was going to wear it with a white t-shirt dress and it would be comfortable yet stylish. But when I looked in the mirror I thought the colour coordination of black and white didn’t look right. Then all of a sudden it was time to go and I had to make do with the dress that was suddenly in my hands. It was a ballerina-inspired, pink, short cocktail dress. I put it on and suddenly, I was completely ready from head to toe but I did not like how I looked. I mean, the dress fit well and looked objectively good but it wasn’t my style. The pink tulle was a bit childish and I thought it much too dramatic, and too revealing to wear to a dinner with my family. I tried to shimmy the neckline to cover my chest, which worked. It worked perfectly as an off the shoulder dress but even though I had fixed the modesty issue, I still felt that it was too much.

My family were all getting into the car now and I was still fiddling with my outfit. In the mirror, I saw that I had on white stockings and high heels. My hair was styled in an up-do. I looked like a fairy. I looked too fancy for where we were going, probably just a restaurant. I wanted to change but everyone was waiting for me. I think my sister went in and out of the bathroom several times to see what I was doing. My family had already done their final mirror checks and had gone to the car. I could feel them willing me to hurry up. I felt so overdressed and was self-conscious at about it. I wanted to quickly change to the outfit I had on from before and despite the urgency in the air, I felt like I could hold everyone up to do so if I wanted. Or I could 'make do'/accept my current outfit.

Dream 2: I was dropped off at the shopping centre and went to the cinema, to a movie I did not want to see. I was with AT but it’s like she wasn’t really there with me, like she was sitting in a different seat away from me in the audience. We were watching something that was a weird mish mash of different movies, it didn't feel like a proper movie. I felt unmoved. After it finished, we discussed our favourite parts but whatever was coming out of my mouth, I was just making it up. I didn’t not care for the scenes that I was recounting, it did nothing for me. She seemed to agree with the 'favourite' scenes I was talking about but it just felt like under the surface we were avoiding from simply spitting out that the movie was not good. Then we parted ways and I had to get home. I regretted that I had been driven here by my parents and had to wait for them to come. I should have just drove here myself, then I would have been able to go home whenever I wanted. I guess at the time I couldn’t be bothered driving here. I had to go find and meet up with my parents so they could drive me home like I was a child.

[zabuivayuvseivsyo]

31224

letters to myself first before i deep dive into my childhood journals

mom always said to write positive things, not just the negative things

lol fuck that

to infant emmy: i'm not sure what to say to you. i remember the story of dad crying when the eczema on my cheeks cleared up and i was smiling for the first time. i wonder how mom and dad dealt with your eczema as a baby, besides just putting socks on your hands so you wouldn't scratch

to toddler emmy: you must have been scared. you must have felt abandoned in the crib and in that room and at the foot of the door. someone should have come to you while you cried instead of waiting outside, listening for when you would stop so you could go back into the crib. you were so friendly to people, even at that age, maybe because you wanted connection and you looked every chance you got

to 4 year old emmy: this must have been when you became "fascinated" with evil men taking advantage of girls. in hawaii on the floor downstairs you drew a girl on train tracks with an evil man standing behind, smiling and waiting. you drew a girl trapped in a clear glass tank with an evil man, still smiling and waiting. you crumpled up or hid those drawings because you knew it was wrong. what happened to you,

to kindergarten emmy: you vowed this year to be a boy, you vowed this year to be bored, upset, over it. you didn't get why you weren't white, or blonde like everyone else. you had to recite "the cat in the hat" and you vowed to do it as deadpan as you could because it was so childish. you wanted to wear black that day and i think all you had was a dark blue long sleeve. why did you feel that way when you were a child? you were excited to learn "algebra" in the dark classroom because it was for older kids. 5 - x = 3. it's 2. you felt older than everyone. it's not your fault, you're not dirty. you didn't know what masturbation was but you felt like you were the only person in the world that it happened to. you felt alone and dirty. if something bad happened you don't have to remember, i will for you eventually, and when i do, i will take care of you, i will hold you, and it will be okay. i don't remember anything from home.

to 1st grade emmy: you were so mortified when mom took you late to your first day of first grade. you were so mortified when mom made you wear something you hated for the mother's day performance and you had to hold your teacher's hand at the very back of the line because you were crying. your face stayed straight and sad that entire performance. you hated how your mom dressed you and you grew up to "like it eventually". i'm sorry, you must have tried to speak up for yourself and you must have been told no, that you had to. no one's making you do something you don't want to anymore. you were proud to be avery johnson's best friend. i don't remember anything from home.

[somewhere around here you get caught because you forgot to clear your browsing history one time, you had been lying for a long time already. "why were you looking at that? were you just curious?" i remember them being surprisingly nice about it. i remember intense shame and horror. but i don't remember anything else]

to 2nd grade emmy: i wonder why you felt like this was the best year of your life, you do have good memories although you were always losing recess for talking too much. rachel kosic's house - it was always messy and you always had fun there. mrs. patricia rowe - alliteration, benjamin's mom, st. patricks day treats. you believed in fairies at this time and you would look for them in the grass. chris saiki was nice to you and you would play star wars. you prayed to god to make you a jedi knight. it was probably because dad showed you star wars. by this time you loved fishing too, but did you? or did you just want to be like dad even more? was this when you got made fun of for a lie mom told you - that eating dry ramen would give you words in your stomach? you were feeling so embarrassed when they made fun of you. blonde girls, one grade older. but you met courtney this year. the first day she came to church she colored her nails with markers. you thought that was amazing. it was in the classroom in the small building at church, the first classroom when you walk in. i wonder what that building looks like now, or if it's even still there. shinu's dad was our sunday school teacher then. that's funny now, and really sad. i don't remember anything from home, except for praying to my ceiling for powers and a lightsaber.

to 3rd grade emmy: this was the year auntie keeae died. you cried in mom's arms even though you didn't know her. i'm sure it was because you felt sad for her, that she lost her big sister. at some lunch you gave some kid an anonymous note and you watched him rip it up and laugh. he had curly brown hair. this was also the year you became friends with emily weerheim. this was the year mom called you pathetic for crying when she broke up with you on fantage or club penguin or something else for "leaving her while she was crying". you found the "everyone hates emmy book" in that room, with the boxes, it was bright and daytime. you never spoke about it to anyone until you grew up. i'm sorry you felt like you had no one to tell, i'm sorry you felt shame for something that was unfair to you, i'm sorry that this was your first memorable "abusive" relationship. her mother cried and said she didn't know what was wrong with her child, but that was later. she always embarrassed you, she was always mean to you, she made you scratch her arms when they were itchy even though you felt weird doing that. you found her so odd for dating boys. trace tempesta. the only memory you had from home (maybe it wasn't even this year) was the red couch, sobbing, sobbing so loud and mom came. she put medicine and cold paper towels on your neck. all of your skin was raw. she held you and blew on your neck until you feel asleep. this was when you started feeling very ugly, especially your haircut and your teeth. you were not ugly, just a little awkward and gangly. mom made you wear more stuff you didn't like, but only on the days we would get student awards. they were supposed to be surprises during assemblies but you always knew you were getting one. because mom dressed you up and because you hated it

to 4th grade emmy: you liked mrs. taylor. i remember you writing your entire essay with a synonym finder so that you could sound smarter. i wonder why you did that. it's silly to look back on now, you used words you never heard before. the classroom was darker, a trailer, the last one on the field. "don't you feel bad?" when we learned about world war 2. i don't think you said anything. when the boys were using trees and trucks as an innuendo for sex, and a group of the girls told on them. by now you were always the last kid to be picked up from school. that day it was just you and brock hampton left. he asked me why you told on them. you shrugged and said "don't know". i don't know where maile ever was, i only remember me sitting out on the concrete bench waiting and waiting for mom. you became friends with ilah berry, another tomboy, and you both got suspended for sticking up for emily when alex made her cry. "i'm going to beat your ass" "yeah she's going to beat your ass" - you even apologized to alex that day, his brother was the one who told on us. you cried so hard in mr. devich's office, you sobbed all the way home, you sat in bed sobbing and mom and dad were not happy with you (even though later you found out that mr. devich said you were a good kid, and that you weren't actually in trouble). this was when you and maile shared a bed. you started hating yourself for being ugly, especially when dad was taking pictures of you and courtney at mission bay and he told you to look more natural, like courtney. of course you didn't look natural, you were so insecure already, you were so sad already, you hated being in front of the camera. your hair was long and you were positive you were gross. a lot of friends came and went around this time, a lot of girls that never meant anything. you must have been confused,

to 5th grade emmy: megan becomes your new best friend. you liked her a lot. you thought it was cool that she could penny board all by herself to your house. you liked how she wore snapbacks. you made the best cookies of your life with her. her mom would call you "immy" with her south african accent. i remember the stairs up to megan's room, blurry images of her room. megan's brother matthew was frightening and terrible. you forced megan to watch lawrence of arabia, because dad liked that movie or dad showed it to you. that movie is almost four hours long, emmy. you are silly. you wanted to be mature for your age. that might be sad but it's also cute. emily fiasco this year, i was jaded by then, i remember telling her we weren't allowed to be friends anymore in mrs. simpson's library (i remember exactly where the bone books were) and not really caring anymore. mr. southerland was nice, we played the keyboard in his classroom, he told the boys that they couldn't say the word faggot and our class that it was time to start wearing deodorant. you read books a lot, you liked maybird. it was melancholy. you started using that word a lot. by now you took on sadness as your primary emotion. jeyla aranjo was your friend but she also annoyed you, she was an overachiever and she cried whenever she got a 5-. she seemed spoiled to you. she ended up going to stanford (and i'm pretty sure she started a year early). you see her in adulthood once. some of your "friends" weren't really your friends, like megan bomgardner who ditches you a year later as soon as you introduce her to julia hayashi, who was also your friend first. you didn't know how to be wary then, you wanted to love and get hurt anyways instead of never loving at all. you tried being "girly" this year and you felt uncomfortable in your skin. don't force yourself to be anything you don't feel comfortable being anymore. it's okay to be emmy - you don't look ugly in that picture from promotion. that dress was nice and you liked it. it had a lot of colors.

to 6th grade emmy: except for when your phone got taken away and waiting for an hour in the cold for school to start, this was a good year at school for you. good job for making friends. you meet a lot of new people. you are kind of mean, but in a sarcastic, deadpan way. especially on facebook. you didn't try on purpose this time. you flipped nef off and the mr. ecker asked you "aren't you dishonoring your family by doing that?" straight to my face. i found that fucking annoying and ridiculous. you actually have a lot of memories from sixth grade. you loved ms. hall. i still do, too. on the last day of school you and your friends walked by yourselves all the way to baskin robbins. you got an ipod touch at some point and now you can look at your pictures from then anytime you want. you got rich on tinierme and met daryl, your first "boyfriend". you thought you were feeling love for the first time in your life, you were so happy but you also knew it was bad. you didn't tell anyone. at all, until you became an adult. it lasted for at least a year and a half altogether. you talked about running into each other so much. that was dangerous. thank god you were too scared to meet him in person. he talked about taking you in the bathroom at tea n more. thank god it never happened. you felt heartbreak for the first time "i don't love you anymore" - you never loved him either, if i ever find him i will kill him, he's a sick fuck

to 7th grade emmy: you have memories here too, but less. you adore kenny and kevin and antoine and minh despite them all being annoying. you especially adore kenny. kenny is still your friend but now he's closer to maile. i'll tell you why when you get older. kenny liked you a lot and you were embarrassed. you really like kpop now, even more than in 6th grade. you also have an online friend group but that never amounted to anything. i think you dated jason won online this year, he was a grade older and he was in that facebook group. he went to exeter academy. he cheated on you and you experienced heartbreak for a second time - for some reason you meet him in person on your way home from russia, because you had a layover in new york. probably because you were manic and insane at this time. he was cringe and you never spoke again. one of your saddest memories happened this year. carlsbad outlet, mom not saying anything to you despite pleading and sobbing and being too scared to touch her, her back was turned into the bed. i don't remember anything else from home.

to 8th grade emmy: i don't remember anything from this year. i don't remember graduation, i don't remember anything. i don't remember any teachers i had. except for ms. hall. i can't remember and i don't know why - i don't even remember what church was like. in fact i don't have a lot of memories from church at all in elementary and middle school, besides being so frightened and hating youth group at first.

oh wait church memories are coming back. 5th grade retreat, 6th grade bringing karen to church and everyone in the room was crying and i wanted karen to believe in god too. courtney and i in the guest room bed having a "profound" god conversation. seeing elly play keyboard. but none from 8th grade for some reason. i met faith around that time. i think that friendship was hard from the beginning.

high school next time, i want to let myself rest . and now i can read my journal

[lira-starlights]

Purity

A line of schoolgirls, with pristine knee-high socks and identical red backpacks. An intricate, bespoke, virgin white wedding dress. A child, eyes clear like flowing spring water, giving a toothless smile without an ounce of fear, doubt, or darkness. A fluffy white dog rolling leisurely around the grass, the damp smell of spring wafting from its fur. A symphony, only of major chords and heavenly harps. Pure. Innocent. Wholesome.

Subconsciously, or perhaps consciously, I've always been drawn to innocence. To have purity--not in the religious sense, per se--a sense of childishness, a sense of naivety is something I've always worked hard to do. Be the "good kid". Alcohol? Hell no. Relationships and sex? Uh, nope. Bunking school? No thanks. Pulling all-nighters and messing around with friends? Why would you do that? I shielded my heart from whatever seemed "too adult" or "not pure". I wanted to be, and wanted to stay, a child: a blind sheep, with no responsibilities and no darkness.

But now I stand at the crossroads. After I step in one direction, there's no turning back. Relationships. It seems. . .too daunting and too serious at times. To be co-existing with another person. To want someone (and be wanted) that way. To intermingle with their families, their friends, their hobbies, their values. To trust them, without ever fully knowing them. Am I acting without thinking again? Am I ready for this? Will my parents and friends judge me?

It is a difficult thing, to have another person in the picture. Hell, I never really had a friend in a picture in my whole life. Now, for the first time in my life, I have someone's heart in my hands. And I'm just. so. afraid.

It feels as if mixing black paint with the vivid, primary colors that decorated my elementary school years. Life is murkier. There are tinges of darkness. It is no longer possible to label the colors easily, just as I have done in kindergarten. Oh, to be back in those days, to be able to label everything so confidently in my squiggly handwriting: Red, blue, yellow, angry, sad, happy.

But if I go back in my shell, if I run, if I hide, if I cower in fear. . . would I ever be able to live my life?

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Name: Janice K Jones

Nickname: Jan, Jones, JK (all from her family and friends)

Birthday: February 5th

Age: 20

Appearance: Janice has light olive skin, large almond shaped dark brown eyes, full natural pink orange lips, mid back long wavy dark brown hair, freckles across her cheeks, usually having rings on her fingers and red painted nails.

Clothes: She has a very limited wardrobe dedicated to her life style and job, tank tops, lose tee-shirts, basket ball shorts, jeans, etc. But her main outfits when she's free mostly at school when she's free from work is a air of dark jeans that have rips on them (obviously) black or brown combat or fishing boots, a black harness crop top or a white lose maybe too big tank top, and a worn down red biker jacket with a large sailing ship patch sewn in the back, and a matching red choker

Personalty: She's in the middle of very mature and childish, very tough and honestly intimidating to those who look at her first, but is literally the meme of "looks like they'll kill you but actually is a cinnamon roll". Don't try and say she won't fight, that girl will in fact beat you until you feel the pain in 50 years still if you mess with her family and friends more than if you mess with her personally. Is very kind and calm most of the time with an Scottish roar in her soul.

Schooling: First Year in College, Marine Bio/Science

Likes: Ocean, the night, fishing, MMA, playing pool, winning bets, coffee the black the better, comedy, action movies, astrology, bubble gum, summer, rock music, alternative rock, her family, the rain, stormy skies, burning candle while reading a good old book, wool socks, sweaters, girls, Maria, cats, fish, folklore, mermaid merchandise, classical music

Dislikes: Her bio-family, losing a game of pool, losing a catch, seeing her friends upset, seeing Maria cry, being called "damaged goods", being reminded of her bio-family, someone lusting after her dad, littering, really annoying people, being late, when seagulls get in the diner

Abilities: Great with kids, cooking, running, lifting things heavy, swim, knows Irish, French, and Spanish

Story: Janice was a youngest daughter of two older sisters and three older brothers from a somewhat middle class rich family who acted like they're better than others, Janice was just not that person. Her brothers got great jobs and her sisters got married easy to men from good families leaving little Janice the only one being pressured by her parents to get grades better than others, dress better than others, and snag an amazing man to marry.

When she was in the 4th grade she developed her first crush on a girl in her homeroom and felt it was right despite her parents claiming it wasn't every time an LGBT new story comes on TV. During this time she found out about her estrange uncle James who, from what she gathered when overhearing the arguments between her bio-dad and him, was basically forced out the family for different views. (this can be LGBT, religion, the fact he lives on a boat, etc. your choice yall) However, when he was there he and Janice bonded and even told her to do what makes her happy. So, she did. She went to the girl she had a crush on and confessed her feelings. It went as you imagine but worst as the girl harshly reject her but then told the class and teacher what happened who in turn her family found out. After dealing with verbal abuse from all and some physical abuse from her mother Janice ran away three nights after the confession and ran to the docs to where she knows her uncle was.

She joined his journey to Spain where she told him everything and he comforted her and allowed her to stay until he returns. However by the time the month in Spain was over the two grew very close and ached to imagine them separating, James knocked on his brother's door to return Janice but was shocked to find the family straight out reject her to her face (they were informed of the trip the night she ran away in case they tried to call the cops) and said they'll only take her back if she becomes their perfect daughter. This left James taking her back and deciding to be her father from now on.

With his best friend's help, they home-schooled the girl and taught her how to run a boat and stuff about the sea. They soon made set in America as their main home running a fishing dock and tackle shop connected to a sea food/sea themed diner with some fun lesson of marine facts of the "Jolly Rodgers", a name of the business. Currently Janice is going to college, crushing on a cute girl named Maria, living on her own personal smaller boat on the same doc at he tackle shop/diner as a normal worker and waiter while helping fishing on special days

Name Meanings: Janice - Hebrew for "Gift from God". And fun fact, her name Janice was gifted by the main character/child from Candle Cove which is my favorite Creepypasta/maybe real TV show Jones - English/Welsh for "son of John"

[hualianff]

Roomies 2 《1》

HC and HX begin the ultimate prank war and YY becomes the accidental victim of it 75% of the time. 

After being smacked with flour, splattered with paint, attacked with a nerf gun (nipple & crotch shots), etc, it’s clear YY will never know peace again as long as he lives with these two bird-brained fools.

Paranoid in his own damn home…what a shame. For compensation, YY pays a little less than the other two when it comes to the rent. It’s the least HC and HX could do.

But now, as YY stands in front of the toilet with piss all over the floor, he briefly wonders if it’s best to move out entirely. 

See, HX is an incredibly light sleeper. A noise as subtle as a floorboard creaking WILL wake him up, which is why he looks like death 24/7. (HC’s words, not YY’s, though YY doesn’t disagree.)

The thing that irks HX the most is stoopid HC going pee at fucking 3 AM and interrupting his beauty sleep! Cut to HX discreetly putting plastic wrap on the toilet seat at midnight, thinking it’ll be a good lesson for HC to think twice before pissing in the middle of the night. 

Who would've thought that instead of HC, YY - who had had too much water before bed that day - would end up playing watersports with the godforsaken, plastic-covered toilet. 

That night, YY made sure to wake both HX and HC up by yelling at them for involving him in their childish rivalry. 

Still, the pranks continue. 

Once, Hualian came back to an apartment with the lights turned off. Before either of them could reach for the light switch, a loud battlecry followed by the lights blasting on revealed a man dressed in all black, donning a white mask and a nerf gun as he charges at the couple-

Except XL is in the front. And he shrieks bloody mary while socking the mysterious intruder in the jaw!!

The man instantly drops the nerf gun and groans, sounding suspiciously like HX…

“Fuck. That fucking hurt,” indeed HX scowls, backing away. XL gasps in realization.

“Ah! He Xuan, it’s you?”

Standing behind XL, HC’s eye is the size of a whole ass saucer for a split second. Then, the dude just bursts out laughing. While XL steps forward to remove the mask and inspect the damage, HC makes eye contact with an exacerbated YY and begins choking on his spit. 

However, in the middle of his giggle fit, HC is berated by a smol boyfriend. 

“San Lang, don’t just stand there. Get me a wet washcloth!” XL demands with serious eyes. 

HC: 👄👁

HC, still trying to catch his breath from cackling at HX’s misfortune, takes his sweet time with that washcloth. But a pressed “San Laaang!” coming from XL is enough to get him moving. 

Meanwhile, XL gently holds HX’s face in his hands, apologizing for punching him. HX is more than aware that this was a consequence of his own actions, and tells XL as such. And shit, yeah, XL trained in martial arts growing up. That explains the dark, purplish bruise already beginning to form on HX’s jaw. 

“Gege can let go of the dumbass now. I can take it from here,” HC’s saccharine voice chirps.

HX suddenly becomes hyper-aware of XL’s hands still cradling his jaw and a certain someone’s glare burning a hole through his head. 

***

XL is naturally a very touchy person. After getting permission from them each time, he often hugs HX and YY upon greeting and leaving. All three residents of that apartment are touch-deprived. Plus, it’s not like they go around hugging each other so casually before. 

But the way XL tucks so easily under their arms, arms wrapping around their middle and squeezing…how can they not love it? So every time XL opens his arms in invitation, every one of them swoops in for a warm hug. 

HC is proud on XL’s behalf. He can tell by his roommate’s fidgeting hands that they secretly cherish XL’s hugs. Which they should! HC knows his boyfriend gives the best hugs! And the best kisses. And-

Not that those fools will ever get the chance to confirm. 

***

XL often stays the night at their apartment because he ALWAYS FALLS ASLEEP. On the couch watching a movie while tucked into HC’s side. At the dining room table working on his laptop. Or he simply makes a beeline for HC’s bed as soon as he enters their apartment. 

He’s a tired bby. 

Whenever XL falls asleep, HC carries him to bed while HX walks behind holding XL’s backpack and YY brings the cup of tea XL was drinking. A group effort!

Once XL is settled into HC’s comfy bed, everyone lingers for a second to admire how cute and peaceful XL looks while asleep. A content whimper from XL breaks HC out of his trance, forcing him to do a double take upon realizing his roommates are in the same predicament. 

Smack!

HC slaps their chests and pushes them away, all while HX and YY whisper-shout their complaints.

(XL sneakily smothers his smile into HC’s pillow.)

Sometimes, hours later, XL will wake up but HC still isn’t in bed with him! No boyfriend to cuddle him and provide warmth! >:(

Thus, burrito-blanket-XL wanders out of the room and demands HC come to bed soon. 

Everyone once again coos at how adorable he is. 

***

There’s no Hualian without Hualian PDA.

HC will be walking around shirtless with sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, and XL will stop everything he’s doing and just stare. Shamelessly. 

HX and YY are DONE. 

(YY: *passes a napkin to XL*

XL: “thanks! but what for?”

HX: “for the drool”

XL stammers out an excuse of “I DO NOT DROOL” and HC simply chuckles as he hugs XL from behind.

HC, kissing XL’s cheek: “I don’t mind if it’s Gege.”)

If the roomie trio is out in public and someone attempts to flirt with or ask HC out, HX and YY are fully prepared to step in and weaponize the harsh reality. 

“There’s absolutely no way you stand a chance, not against Gege,” HX whispers through a cough.

“You’re trying to ask out an anchored man,” YY deadpans.

***

HX jokingly to HC: “If you and Xie Lian ever break up, I’m picking him.”

HC slugs HX’s on the shoulder for that one. 

HC on the outside: “fuck you”

HC on the inside: “if Gege and I ever break up?��� 😭

Later, in HC’s room...

HC testing out how much XL loves him cause that left him feeling insecure: “Gege, would you still love me if I was a worm? 🥺🥺🥺”

XL: “San La- what in- you-“

HC, borderline crying: “ANSWER ME 😭😭😭”

XL: “I- you know I don’t particularly like worms-“

HC: “IM JUST CHOPPED MEAT ARENT I??”

XL: “WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?”

HC: “PLEASE DONT BREAK UP WITH ME IM BEGGING YOU”

XL: 😧

XL: 🥺🥺 “YOU THINK WE’LL BREAK UP!?!?”

HC IN A PANIC: “GEGE MARRY ME”

XL: “SAN LANG!”

And with a firm slap to the chest - courtesy of a panicked XL - HC’s forced to calm down and actually THINK before he speaks.

HC: “OUCH NOT THE TITS”

YY AND HX IN THEIR ROOMS: 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

***

Sometimes, XL arrives at the apartment before HC. He has a key and everything - the unofficial fourth roommate. 

And at this moment, another mouth competing for food. 

YY and XL are currently staring at the lone piece of pepperoni pizza. XL turns to give YY the full puppy eyes. YY clenches his teeth and purposefully avoids XL’s face. 

YY on the inside: “I GOTTA PUT ME FIRST 😭 I GOTTA PUT ME FIRST”

HX, just passing by: “why are you both staring at a piece of pizza…gimme” *snatches it and walks away*

XL and YY sharing a look, nodding at each other.

XL catapults himself onto HX’s back while shouting to YY: “GET THE PIZZA”

HX BEING STRANGLED BY XL: “WHAT THE FCUK”

YY jabbing HX’s stomach for good measure: “GOT IT”

When HC and his comedic timing pushes the front door open, everyone freezes. XL has a foot on HX’s back -who is dying on the floor - and YY clutches the single pizza slice in triumph. 

HC: 🤨

HC: “is that my leftover pizza?”

All eyes turn towards the pizza slice, which already has one bite missing. 

XL: “San Lang, you always tell me ‘Gege, what’s mine is yours.’ This holds true, yes?”

HC: “yes, of course”

XL snatching the pizza away from YY: “give it here, sucker”

HC: “what on earth goes on”

Everyone’s stomach growls. 

HC: “why didn’t you just order food then?”

YY and HX: *mental facepalm*

XL: “nom nom pizza 🥰”

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi 

[aphroditepeter]

Pity Party - Starker

First post I guess <3

I suddenly remember reading this one fanfiction called 'Pity Party' a few years ago where the main character has Peter Pan Syndrome and he was throwing his birthday party but no one came and I immediately thought of Starker.

Please bear with me, I wrote this at 2 a.m. instead of sleeping so I am sorry if there are any mistakes.

Tags: Mentions of bullying, Feminine!Peter, Older!Tony, Dark!Tony, Underage, Whump, Age differences, Implied non-con, etc.

So feminine Peter has Peter Pan Syndrome and he is super excited to have his 16th birthday party.

A few days ago before his birthday, he already gave almost everyone he knows at school the invitation cards to his party, including his bullies, Quentin Beck, and his asshole friends who keep on harassing him mentally and physically. But, Peter being the sweetheart he is, doesn’t mind the bullying and instead has a crush on Quentin.

He knew that it is the wrong thing to do to invite them but then again, he thought that maybe they will not bully him anymore once they have come to his house and saw how amazing his birthday party is. Plus, naïve Peter thought that maybe, just maybe, Quentin will realize that Peter is not that bad after all despite him being different and he might fall in love with Peter just like the way Peter did.

Due to his excitement, Peter planned the most perfect birthday party he has ever done throughout his whole life.

He already picked all the birthday balloons, chosen a strawberry-flavored birthday cake (his favorite), and put on pink banners everywhere. Literally, everything you need for a birthday party.

He even picked his own birthday outfit, consisting of a pink sweater with a white mini pleated skirt and white knee-high socks that just scream cuteness.

Aunt May did help him to put a little bit of makeup on his face, making him look even prettier than he usually does that even Peter himself keeps on blushing when thinking of what Quentin will think of him later when he and the others arrive.

Since Aunt May has to go to work until late at night, she can’t join him and only wished him a happy birthday before she goes to work. Nonetheless, Peter is still in a happy mood as he waits for his guests to appear so that Peter can celebrate his birthday for the very first time with other people besides his aunt.

He waits and waits and waits. An hour begins to pass. Then two hours, before three to four hours pass and Peter falls asleep due to being tired of waiting.

When Peter wakes up, he realizes that it is almost night and not a single person has made an appearance outside his house or even knock on the door to surprise him.

Feeling sad, Peter cries so hard that he starts hitting himself repeatedly. He blames himself for thinking so gullible that people will come to his birthday party when he should have noticed the look on their faces when he gave them their invitation cards. Nothing but shame and disgust were shown on their faces.

He should also blame himself for thinking that Quentin will arrive here and spend time with him when he knows that Quentin and his friends might be having fun somewhere else while laughing at Peter’s naiveness and stupidity.

Peter thinks that he is at fault. Maybe it is because of his childish behaviors that are different and unlike any normal teenager at his school. And maybe it is because the way he dresses up is too feminine and how he loves to wear pastel outfits, especially pink ones.

Peter is about to go to his room and forget about everything that has been happening when he suddenly hears a knock on the door. 

Feeling relieved, Peter wipes his tears and runs towards the door. Probably thinking that someone he knows, his aunt, or even Quentin, has finally come to celebrate his birthday.

Surprisingly, when he opens the door, a man who is much older than him is standing in front of his door with a smile on his face. 

He looks like he is in his late 30s or early 40s but Peter admits that he is handsome. But he shouldn’t think of that. He only likes Quentin! 

The man calls himself Tony Stark. He tells Peter that he is one of the people that live in Peter’s neighborhood and he decided to go visit him when he heard Peter is throwing a birthday party.

Peter feels uneasy as he has never seen Tony around the neighborhood as long as he has lived here. He quickly remembers his aunt’s bits of advice of not letting strangers talk to him or letting them enter the house without his aunt’s permission. 

Yet, after Tony convinces him that he is one of the neighbors here and he looks nice (not to mention Peter wants at least one person to hang out with him during his birthday), Peter decides to let Tony inside.

Because someone is willing to spend time with Peter, Peter’s mood has become better. He happily tells Tony about his birthday cake and goes to the kitchen to show Tony where he put his cake so he can have a little taste.

What Peter doesn’t realize is that Tony has locked the door. And he is standing behind Peter with a dark look on his face.

Let’s just say, Tony prefers to taste something or someone that is much sweeter than the birthday cake.

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch. 7

Ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.6

Summary: in which Cassandra gets bullied and other sappy shenanigans

---

"Oh Nicole dear, so happy to see you again!" Duke's voice was cheerful as ever, tone masterfully crafted over years of being a businessman.

Nicole, taking small steps inside the ornate and now full of items room, greeted him with uncharacteristic giddiness.

"Duke! How's business?"

"Same as always, I'll be heading to Beneviento later tonight to deliver some tools for her," he took a long drag of his cigar and, noticing green eyes scanning over multiple items and said, "I also have your order."

With a childish grin on her face, she approached him, hands shuffling inside the small bag attached to her belt that all staff members had. She pulled out the money owed for her package and, in return, the Duke placed a decently sized box in her arms. With an oof she shifted it in a less precarious position, it's heavy contents seeming to plot against her small frame.

"Unfortunately I can't stay, duty calls. But thank you Duke."

"No worries, I do understand that your employers can be quite," he took another drag of his cigar, looking for the right word. "...demanding"

Nicole chuckled. That was one way to put it.

"Well until next time dear. Or if you find yourself in need of something else, I'll be here until six."

---

She was only wearing a long white towel when she heard a knock on the door. Assuming it was another maid, or even Anita inquiring about whether or not she'd be joining the rest of them for dinner, she opened the door just a crack.

It was a surprise to see none other than Cassandra standing there, her elegant frame in odd contrast with the modest corridor. She flung the door open, letting the brunette inside and took a quick glance down the hall, making sure no maid was on the floor after fainting due to fright.

"What are you doing here?"

"Aw, are you not happy to see me?" She was pouting, but her tone was joking.

Nicole rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips betrayed that she was indeed happy to see her. Cassandra only laughed instead, a beautiful melodious laugh, so unlike the dark cackles heard by prisoners down in the dungeons.

"Just sit down, I need to get dressed," Nicole pointed to the bed before moving to the small dresser and pulling out a clean uniform.

Cassandra went to sit on the slightly disheveled bed, eyes following the redhead's form as she let the towel drop to her feet and started to put on the various layers of her uniform. Then golden eyes darted to the box sitting on the bed. The tape sealing it had been cut not long after Nicole brought it back to her room to make sure all its contents made it safely. Not that she didn't trust the Duke, but postal service was postal service.

"What's this?" Cassandra inquired, trying to read the label but having no success as it had been scribbled over with a marker.

Nicole stilled for a moment, hands frozen on her white button up. She cleared her throat and shyly admitted:

"Actually that's for you. Do open it if you want."

Cassandra's eyes widened, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. The gesture had really caught her off guard. She gingerly lifted the lid, inspecting it's contents for a moment and then hummed.

"And here I was thinking you like my hair. With how much you love to pull on it and all that."

Nicole, now fully clothed and sporting a deep blush, marched to her and plucked the two boxes of red hair dye from gloved hands. She placed them on her nightstand and, with her voice just slightly more high pitched, she turned to the brunette.

"Those are mine, I meant the rest of it." And, after a chuckle, "I mean have you seen my roots? They're horrible!"

Cassandra only gave her a deadpan look and, after a long moment, said: "I think your hair is beautiful."

She didn't wait for a reply, not that it would be anything more than a stammered mumble of course. Instead she chuckled and returned her attention to the box. She examined the rest of its contents and then gingerly lifted one of the few tomes inside. The cover was glossy and malleable, it's pages shiny and with a distinct typography smell to it. It was so unlike her other books, it's pristine white state making it feel extremely out of place in the castle. She glanced at Nicole inquisitively.

"I do appreciate the gift, don't misunderstand me, but surely you know there's a small bookshop's worth of medical books in this castle."

"With all due respect, from what I've seen most of them are at least somewhat outdated. Interesting, yes, but I thought you'd like to learn something more...modern." Then she pulled out another book. "This is the same one I used while studying forensic pathology. It would make teaching you some things easier. Uh… assuming you want that."

Nicole averted her gaze, suddenly unsure of the usefulness of her gift. Cassandra however grabbed her chin between two fingers and pulled her gaze back on her. She smiled, finding the shy demeanor beyond endearing.

"I'd love that."

A small smile appeared on thin lips and Nicole leaned in to kiss Cassandra. It was soft and short, but no less intimate than the deep kisses they shared so many times in Cassandra's bed.

They had to go anyway.

---

Let's go to the library, Cassandra said. It'll be empty, she said.

When Cassandra swung open the intricate door, only to find the other two sisters lounging on one of the couches, it's not like they could do a one eighty and leave the room. That would've been both impolite and highly suspicious.

Instead, Cassandra grabbed her arm protectively and led them to the reading spot farthest from the other two. They placed one of the textbooks on the small desk and Cassandra took out a notebook. This would've been a lot more fruitful with an actual body on hand, but there were still a couple days until the human flesh supply had to be replenished and Cassandra was beyond eager to start on some things. So, for now, they had to settle for theory alone.

It took all of five minutes for the other two sisters to make their way to their desk. Daniela had a giddy yet curious expression on her face, while Bela seemed as unreadable as ever, if not for a glint in her eyes that betrayed her interest.

"Whatcha dooooing?" Came Daniela's voice, who cocked her head not unlike a curious puppy would while looking at the book's contents.

"Working," Cassandra replied, a slight growl accompanying her words.

"Could've fooled me," Bela spoke from behind the youngest sister, eyeing the hand protectively placed on Nicole's waist.

Cassandra snapped her eyes at the blonde, looking ready to throw her notebook at her head but Bela ignored her sister's ire and addressed Nicole instead.

"What are you studying?"

"I uh- just some basic anatomy concepts. Thought it would be a good idea to start with the things that the older books in the castle don't cover."

Bela only hummed, grabbed an ornate chair nearby, and plopped herself at the desk, opposite from the pair. Daniela mimicked her sister, but instead chose to sit down right by Nicole on the small couch. It took more willpower than she would admit not to glue herself to Cassandra's side when Daniela's face came uncomfortably close so she could look over the book's diagrams. She stood still as a statue though. After a couple seconds of silence and Nicole trying to figure out what she was supposed to do, Daniela drew her head back, looking at her with what was possibly the most serious expression she had seen on the youngest sister.

"You do realize we're not going to hurt you right? How could we lay a finger on our dear sister's lover hmm?"

Nicole's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure if it was due to the word used to describe her or how Daniela apparently knew that she was utterly terrified of her. Cassandra sighed beside her and, seeming to at least partially read Nicole's thoughts, clarified:

"Your heartbeat."

Oh. Yeah. Yeah her heart was beating a million miles an hour. And apparently the other three vampiric occupants of the room were able to hear it loud and clear. It did very little to ease her mind.

"Please do calm down, it feels like someone is having drumming lessons. Bad ones," Bela complained, head resting in one of her hands like she was already bored.

"Then shove a sock in your ears," Cassandra snapped.

Bela simply leaned back in her seat and stretched her arms above her head. "And risk not hearing my beloved sisters sing along to some pop song?"

Cassandra shut her mouth, a blush now slowly spreading across her cheeks while Daniela burst out into laughter. Even Nicole couldn't help betraying the brunette and letting out a giggle.

"I didn't know you could sing."

"I can't."

"Au contraire dear Cassie! Should I remind you of the last time Dragostea din tei came on the radio? The pathos!" Daniela reached over Nicole's lap to lightly shake her sister's knee through her giggles.

Cassandra only let out a long groan, face now hidden in her palms. "I hate you both."

"Mhm, we love you too," came Bela's reply, accompanied by a chuckle.

Nicole couldn't keep a small laugh while she snaked her arm behind the brunette to show some form of support against the merciless assailants. Maybe not a complete betrayal.

The scene really had something deep within her heart aching beautifully. It reminded her of the countless times she and Alex would mercilessly tease each other, but still have each other's backs through thick and thin. And for this familiarity to come from people that any sane person would consider bloodthirsty monsters? Hell, maybe they should start considering her a monster too, for the only word she could use to describe them in that moment was endearing.

"So," Bela lightly clapped her gloved hands. "Now that your pulse isn't giving me a headache anymore, what are we doing?"

She had a confident smirk on her face, but her eyes betrayed curiosity. Same for Daniela and, although mixed with a hint of annoyance, Cassandra. She opened the book in front of her, one of general human anatomy, and decided that the digestive system would be a good enough starting point.

---

Their little impromptu lesson didn't last more than two hours. Two hours that proved to Nicole just how oddly human all three sisters can be. Of course she had gotten familiar with Cassandra, intimately so, but the other two still felt like two looming monsters hiding in the shadows. At least up until now.

Bela seemed oddly intrigued by Nicole's explanation, although unlike Cassandra, she seemed to view it more like a story than anything. Daniela seemed slightly more interested, asking questions here and there and even starting to giggle like a middle schooler when they got to the rectum section. That got an eye roll from the other two. Nicole just laughed, finally understanding Mrs Hawkins, her private biology teacher from before she was allowed to step foot in any public school.

After they were done, Bela simply stood up and bid them good night. Danila instead excitedly proposed the skeletal system for next time and picked up the books she abandoned earlier. Then, with a small tower of tomes she went through a door tucked at the very back of the room. Her study, Cassandra had pointed out as they made their way out of the library.

"I didn't know your sisters were interested in medicine too." Nicole kept her voice low, almost as if talking too loudly would disturb the shadowy hallways.

"More or less. Daniela likes it and has a bit of hands-on practice but she has her nose in romance novels more often than not. Bela finds it interesting but botany is what she really loves. That and classic lit." She added the last part with a grimace and Nicole had to wonder which author had offended her personally.

Before she could continue that train of thought though, her gaze moved to the windows, the cloudless sky beyond thick glass panels full of twinkling stars. Her mind kept going back to a few hours earlier and at what Daniela had said. Lover. Did Cassandra truly see her as one or was the youngest sister just being her over the top self. Did she see Cassandra this way? Nicole had not allowed herself to dwell on that up until now, the idea that the brunette saw her as more than an over glorified lab partner with whom she occasionally scratched an itch seemed almost laughable. But the small gestures of affection shown in ways Cassandra seemed to know best were undeniably there. And the familiar flutter in her chest at each of said gestures was also undeniably there.

"What's wrong?"

Cassandra's voice, accompanied by the slight echo through the empty hallway, snapped Nicole out of her thoughts.

"Oh um- nothing." She sounded as convincing as someone trying to sell you a fork while showing you a spoon.

And Cassandra didn't seem to buy it. She moved in front of the redhead, walking backwards with no concern over possible furniture to collide into along the way.

"You always get this… face when something's bothering you."

"I do not-" the indignation in her tone was weak, little more than an attempt to change the subject.

"Mhmm you do. You normally look focused. Kind of like, if someone tried to scare you by throwing an eyeball at you, you'd laugh." She would. "Now? Now you look like a rabbit that has no time to run and is just laying low hoping whatever's hunting it passes by."

Nicole shut up for a moment, only looking at the brunette in front of her incredulously. Maybe she was far more attentive than she gave her credit for.

"Uh. Just thinking." At a raised dark eyebrow, the no shit went unsaid, so Nicole tried to elaborate. "About earlier. When we were with your sisters and Daniela uh- Daniela called me your lover."

Saying that the words felt awkward on her tongue was close to the year's biggest understatement. It felt like pulling out teeth would be an easier task. Nicole had never been good with her words, having learned since childhood to keep her mouth shut. But the fact that Cassandra seemed to share her struggle brought some semblance of comfort.

"And?" As if they were talking about the weather.

"And… was she right in describing me as such?"

She couldn't help a small gulp when the brunette stopped walking, looking at her with a frown. Any sane person would be at the very least somewhat afraid in this situation. Sanity however was scarce these days as Nicole was afraid, though not of the bodily harm that may come from her inquiry, but rather of Cassandra's answer.

"Nicole, your tongue has been in my mouth." Amongst many other places.

The redhead's cheeks turned a slight shade of crimson and she mumbled for an answer. She wasn't sure how to tell her that sleeping together did not automatically make them lovers. But then again, Cassandra's thoughts remained a mystery more than anything.

Thankfully the brunette took the metaphorical reins of the conversation and stepped forward. She wrapped her hands around Nicole's arms, gentler than one would imagine possible from her, and bent down to whisper no more than an inch away from her ear.

"I'll have you know, I'm not particularly fond of letting anyone I don't deem important touch me. Especially not the way you do."

The words made something flutter in Nicole's chest, an unfamiliar and comforting warmth. Said warmth got chipped away at the slightest bit when Cassandra pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"Should I take it that it's not mutual then?" Cassandra's tone was nonchalant, almost as if she didn't truly care about the answer. She could keep doing whatever she wanted either way, afterall who was going to stop her? But to someone who got familiar with all her small quirks and habits, the waver in her voice was more than clear.

"No." The world slipped from her lips with no hesitation.

No hesitation, because the more she thought about it, and she didn't need to think a lot mind you, the more Nicole realized that she couldn't remember a time when she felt the way she did here. Sure the initial threat of death looming over her head was anything but pleasant, but once that melted into affection and nights spent in Cassandra's arms the thought of leaving didn't as much as graze her mind.

"No, no. It is," she repeated, more certainty making its way into her tone.

At that Cassandra smiled. A small, almost shy one would say if they knew her well enough, smile. Her shoulders seemed to lose some of their tension when she leaned down again, her lips stopping not even an inch away. Nicole wasted no time leaning forward, their mouths meeting in a kiss that mixed softness and need beautifully. Their lips slid against each other until, surprisingly, it was Cassandra to pull back and sigh.

"Come sleep, we have some cutting up to do in the morning."

Nicole frowned. "Tomorrow? Wasn't that supposed to be due in a few days?"

A devilish grin appeared on black lips, fangs shimmering ominously in the low light. "Bela caught a foolish man-thing sneaking around the forest on the castle grounds. She's really excited to turn this one into a nice steak."

The redhead only let out an oh in acknowledgement. Foolish indeed. At least they could finally put into practice a few autopsy tricks Nicole had been itching to show her.

She let herself be guided back to Cassandra's chambers and into her bed, that she had grown intimately familiar with. The last thing she felt before falling asleep was the brunette's cool skin, pressed against her own. A welcomed comfort among the myriad of soft pillows that surrounded them. Nicole wondered briefly if being undead meant it was hard to keep yourself warm, but the thought quickly slipped away as she fell into a dreamless sleep.