#this art saved me i had such an awful art block

[saewokhrisz]

together in death

#this art saved me i had such an awful art block #kinda feeling guilty i had to stop working on comms yesterday cuz i felt really burnt out from them )--)0 #god. i know i drew this but like minas face? it kills me #why did i do that #persona 3 #ryomina #minato arisato #ryoji mochizuki #fanart #persona #my art #spoilers

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Stars Align: Part 1

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley was your best friend throughout high school, and you were madly in love with him. Bradley had no idea how you felt, and had eyes for someone else, much to your dismay.

You move away after high school, and gradually lose touch with your best friend, however years later you happen to bump into the new and improved Bradley Bradshaw, and can hardly believe it's the same man. He can also hardly believe that the beautiful, grown up woman in front of him is the same dorky best friend he had all those years ago. Will things ever become more than they were in that past, as you rekindle your friendship and make up for lost time? And can you both overcome certain dark truths that come to light?

Warnings: Slow burn, Angst, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Violence, Mentions of Abuse, Angry Bradley, Alcohol misuse, Swearing, Awkward Adolescence.

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This entire series is 18+ ONLY

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Past:

You walked down the unfamiliar corridor, past blue and red lockers as you desperately searched for the correct classroom. It was your first year at a new school, and although you’d done this so many times before, you hated being new, and the unknown terrified you.

You were already late, having struggled to find your home room, and panic was creeping up your chest like hot acid threatening to burn through your sternum.

You took in a shaky breath as you reached the end of the corridor, still having not found the correct room, and you turned around to recheck the ones you’d passed.

As you turned, you bumped into someone and stumbled back slightly. Once you'd steadied yourself, you looked up.

“Sorry…” the tall boy mumbled. A smattering of small scars adorned his chubby face, the makings of facial hair beginning to show themselves on his chin and upper lip, well into the beginning of puberty. He looked at least a year or two older than you, and he was so tall you had to crank your neck to look at him. “Are you new?”

You nodded awkwardly, too shy to utter a word. You were already nervous, but boys made you even more so.

“Ok, what room are you looking for? I can take you!” He offered, a cute smile now spread across his face.

You smiled, holding up the piece of paper that showed your schedule, “Thank you, it’s Mrs Carters room, I’ve looked everywhere but I can’t find it.” You blushed.

“Ah, yeah so Mrs Carters isn’t actually in the main building, she’s over at the Art Block.” He explained, beginning to walk to the exit, you followed.

“The… the art block?” You queried.

“Yeah, she teaches art, but she’ll be your home room teacher this year. My home room teacher is Mr Dent, he’s the head of the Maths department, I hate him, blegh.” The boy mumbled as he walked. “I’m Bradley, by the way.” He stuck out a hand to you.

“I’m Y/N.” You offered, and gave his hand a little shake.

“Aw, you’re so gentle. Like a little bird. I think I’ll call you that.” He chuckled.

“L-little bird?”

“Yeah, lil bird.”

You grinned and nodded, as you crossed the small lawn between the main building and the Art Block. The Art Block was beautifully decorated, a variety of flowers and insects painted onto the brick, a colourful contrast to the pale grey building behind you.

“Hope you like art, and crazy people. Mrs Carter’s nuts.” He laughed, stopping at the door.

You nodded, “Thanks for saving me.” You joked.

“Any time lil bird. If you need anyone to sit with at lunch, I usually sit by that tree over there.” He pointed. “My friends spend breaks with their girlfriends, and they get all gross so I’ve taken to eating alone.”

You chuckled and nodded, as Bradley walked back to the main building. You watched as he left, and then took a deep breath as you pushed open the big doors to the Art Block building. Your nerves were now considerably less frazzled, and the rest of the day didn’t seem to be as scary a thought as you’d imagined it would be.

————————————

Present:

“That’s the last box, can we go get a drink now pleeeeassee?” Gabby begged you as she plonked down on your new sofa.

You chuckled, wafting your t-shirt to allow some cool air to touch your sweaty skin. The climb from the street below to your apartment on the 5th floor, multiple times with heavy boxes, proved to be all the exercise you’d need for the year.

“Yeah we can go get a drink now. Can I at least shower first?” You panted, closing the front door.

“Sure, I’m gonna take a nap in that case.” Gabby laughed, laying down and closing her eyes, as her breathing returned to normal. Gabby loved fitness, and was in much better shape right now having done similar exertions every day, but you were a panting mess as you climbed into the shower and washed the sweat off of your skin.

Once you’d finished, you wrapped a towel around your body and walked back into the lounge to fish around a box for something to wear.

Gabby was snoring now, her arm draped over her eyes to block out the light from the many lamps you’d plugged in.

“Gabby.” You whispered loudly. “Gabs, wake up, I need your help.” You whispered louder.

Gabby snored away, so you sighed and walked over to her. “Pssstt!” You hissed in her ear, nothing.

You sat down on her and that did the trick, she woke up with a “ooph!” And gave you a dirty look.

“Whaaaaat? I was having such a good dream about that guy at the coffee shop.”

“Ew, not on my sofa please. I need you to help me decide on what to wear, you can borrow something too.”

Gabby got up and helped you rifle through your boxes.

“Ohhh, you always look hot in this.” She took out a dark green satin cowl neck dress and threw it at you, and you held it out to look at.

“Where exactly are we going drinking? I was thinking a nice little bar somewhere, but this dress screams filthy club.” You grimaced.

“Okay fine, what about… yeah this is super cute, kinda classy too.” She held out a lacey little black dress, it was still small enough to leave little to the imagination, but was classier than the green dress.

“Okay, that’s better I suppose.” You nodded and she threw you the dress.

“I’ll take the satin.” She winked, taking the green dress and changing in your living room.

You slipped into the black lace and brushed your hair out into neat waves. You quickly put on some makeup and heels, and you were both out the door.

The street was now packed, a Saturday night in the city meant party time, and that’s certainly what Gabby had in mind as she dragged you to the bustling heart of the city.

————————————

Past:

The first few days passed in a blur, and you were thankful for Bradley being there. He grounded you when your mind was going a mile a minute, and helped you find all of your classes. He ate lunch with you every day under the big oak tree, and you learned about his life bit by bit each time.

You knew his dad had died, and his moms name was Carole. You knew he was an only child and that meant he could be lonely some times, so you began to meet up with him after school most days to do homework together. Bradley would come over to your house often, where you introduced him to your younger brother and sister.

Bradley also connected with your dad, possibly due to not having had a father figure in his life since his God Father wasn’t around much.

Your dad taught Bradley to drive, and helped him fix up an old car once he’d gotten his licence. Once Bradley could drive, he picked you up all the time to just drive around, and you now had a personal chauffeur to drive you to school and back each day. You two became joined at the hip, inseparable outside of your classes.

As the years passed, Bradley was even allowed to sleep over, once your parents had realised there were no ulterior motives. You would play pranks on one another, and on your siblings. You would tell one another everything, but you found that there were some things you'd rather he didn't tell you.

"I think I'm in love, lil bird. She's so hot! Ever since she came back from summer break, it's like she went to model camp or something." Bradley raved.

"Gross, I don't wanna know that." You flushed red, whether out of awkwardness or jealousy you weren't sure. Bradley had developed a crush on Michelle Jennings around the same time you'd developed a crush on Bradley, and the fact that she was so much prettier than you did little for your confidence, so you kept quiet about your feelings.

Bradley had asked Michelle to prom, and as he'd begun to develop some muscles, and his facial hair had filled out, he was beginning to look less dorky, and more like a young man, so she said yes. Bradley was elated.

“I told you, Brad, I don’t wanna go.” You mumbled, shoving your prom dress into the bottom of your wardrobe and skulking over to where Bradley stood by your bedroom window.

“C’mon. Please! What if things get awkward between me and Michelle? I won’t have anyone to run to.” He pouted.

“No, Bradley. No one’s asked me to go and I’m all… ugly and stuff.” You groaned, looking at your skin in the mirror. You had reached that awkward stage where pimples were flaring up every day and your hair was unruly. You hadn’t exactly blossomed like some of the popular girls had. The ones who’s parents could afford expensive dermatology appointments and the newest straighteners. You simply had to make do with cheap spot treatments and a thousand hair clips.

“You’re not ugly, don’t be stupid. No one looks good when they look THAT close in the mirror.” Bradley chuckled, walking over to you. “And who cares if you don’t have a date? I can have two dates, there aren’t any rules against it.”

You shot him a glare, “Yeah, I’m sure Michelle will be happy about that. You’ll spend the entire evening making out with the girl of your dreams and I’ll be awkward third wheel.” You rolled your eyes.

“Birdy, please.” He gave you soft eyes and his tone was genuinely pleading.

You sighed as you looked at him, and then at your wardrobe. “Okay, fine. Can you pick me up?”

Bradley grinned, and rushed over to envelope you in a bear hug. “You know I will, I’ll see you at 7.”

—————————————

Present:

Your skin had cleared up and your hair tamed slightly over time, you had finally come into your own as a woman and you looked damn fine. You were almost unrecognisable apart from your smile and your eyes, and so you’d made it your life’s mission not to let anyone in your new life see pictures of you in high school. You were a different person entirely, more confident, more fun, and much smarter.

You had met Gabby after you moved away, and she had taken on the role of best friend. A role you so desperately needed filling without the tall boy in your life anymore. You and Gabby both went on to study at the same university, and then you took jobs at the same school, Gabby as coach for the junior girls soccer team, and you as a Biology teacher.

You fell into a happy rhythm, and started dating one of the other teachers in the biology department, Jacob, and before long your daily thoughts of Bradley turned to weekly thoughts, and eventually you barely thought of him at all, occasionally dreaming of the best friend you’d once had and loved so dearly.

You moved in with Jacob and life continued, however things began to turn sour, and you called quits on the relationship.

Gabby had found a new job at a prep school in New York, and a few months later when a vacancy for a Natural Sciences Educator opened up, she begged you to take it. The pay was so much better, and best of all you'd be with Gabby again.

You weren't thrilled to live in such a large city, much preferring a quiet little town and more relaxed lifestyle, but you missed your best friend, and the town was becoming more and more hostile after things with Jacob had gotten out of control.

You applied and got the job due to your stellar recommendations and flawless interview. You moved not long after and there you were, with Gabby, about to have your first taste of city life.

"I feel underdressed now." You sighed, everyone was dressed to the nines, and Gabby had unwittingly dragged you to a nightclub rather than bar.

"Don't be silly, you look incredible in that dress, men are gonna be drooling over you." She smacked your butt playfully and you glared at her. "C'mon, I know the bouncer."

Gabby took your hand and waltzed over to the front of the long line.

Gabby was incredibly stunning, long blond hair and an athletic body that could make anyone do a double take, so when she walked up to the bouncer and purred a 'Hey Ronnie, is there any chance we can skip that long old line tonight, I'm so thirsty.', it was no surprise that Ronnie grinned and let you both right in.

"That... was incredible. Can I take you with me next time I go to the bank?" You chuckled.

"You know I'll do anything for you." She winked.

You made your way to the bar and Gabby squeezed through, flagging down a bar tender. She was in her element, but you felt as out of place as a polar bear in a desert. You looked around the packed night club at the patrons, all wearing Prada and Gucci, hair styled so perfectly that it didn't move when they danced, expensive perfumes choking you as they wafted past. You felt like an imposter in your cheap dress, regardless of how beautiful you looked.

Gabby handed you a glass of wine and you thanked her. She craned her neck in search of an empty table. As she found one she summoned you to follow her through the crowds.

You stayed as close as you could but inevitably got separated as a group of women danced in your path. You politely moved around them, just as a tree of a man stepped in your way and you bumped into one another. You bounced off of his hard body and lost your balance, flailing backwards as your heels wobbled beneath you.

Just as you had accepted your fate, a strong pair of arms shot out and caught you, pulling you back up before your body had the chance to make contact with the hard, sticky floor below.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry." He said loudly over the booming music. You would recognise that voice anywhere, but as you looked up, the voice did not belong to the face you were so used to it being attached to.

You gulped, and as his eyes made contact with yours, he recognised you suddenly.

"Little Bird?" He breathed in disbelief.

"Hey, Bradley."

__________________________________

-- Part 2 Here --

#miles teller x reader #miles teller #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fandom #top gun maverick fanfiction

[reegis]

Yo! Do you have any notes/tips for your coloring process? I've always had trouble with that part of drawings looking good lmao and I really like yours! If not for your specific style, do you have any tips with that in general?

Iv gotten a few asks about how I color but iv always avoided answering because

A) I am absolutely awful at explaining things, and

B) I am a very Very lazy artist you should probably Not do the things that I do

BUT i feel bad gatekeeping(?) my horrible technique if it helps anybody ig ill try and explain so

✨✨✨Welcome to Reegis’ Probably Not Reputable (But Very Long Winded) Art Advice✨✨✨✨

line art of a random character for the example, just pic whatever colors you have in mind for your base colors, you can try using palette generators or basing it off of existing palettes/characters/whatever I have absolutely no idea how color theory works (& this is why you shouldnt listen to me) so im solely going off of vibes. but it is Rough so onto step 2 & 3

(edit to add i usually start off with the skin hair & clothes on separate clipping layers and merge them together towards the end.. i think i forgot to say that at all here oops)

I abuse the hellll out of layer blending modes. overlay, saturation & multiply mainly, but also difference, brightness & screen. (just doodle something & try all of em out to get a feel for them honestly ik theres a Lot and they can be intimidating) for this i just wanted a more cohesive warmer tone to start with so i added a peachy overlay & a slight ombré to the hair to add a bit more interest to the character.

then just the most basic of rendering, some blush & highlights just wherever i think theyd go.

Another thing they tell you Not to do, my next step is to block out all my shading in a vaguely purpleish multiply layer!!! i cant be assed to do it any other way im sorry…. once i have the basic shading down, i lock the layer & go in with air brush eraser & also airbrush in other colors wherever I think the purple is maybe too harsh/clashing

still wasnt 100% happy with the colors so messed around with some more layer filter/modes/whatever you call them then colored in my line art! i think this is honestly the saving grace for all of my art shshsdhhf color your lines people. doesnt have to be all (i dont, i like the contrast) but it usually helps to make some at least a little less harsh

then with a little more color tweaking im done! one random sleepy dude, fully colored (by my standards)

and then if a piece needs more dramatic lighting you justttt

im so serious play around with layer settings! these are just basic multiply & add(glow), there as so many others you can abuse the shit out of & nobody will know or care in your finished piece.

was this?? in any way helpful???? I hope so.

#THIS IS A BELATED ANSWER FOR ALL OF U MY B #scrolled back to find the earliest one i could bc i mean… you asked first #if this was in Any way helpful…. im glad #and also sorry. probably dont do these things #hmu if youd like me to clarify anything ill… do my best #asks #my art

[rainontherooftops]

Cradle

Summary: FBI Agent Marcus Pike finds out that one of his agents is pregnant - yet still insists on going into the field and taking risks. Fighting his feelings for her, he needs to step up and be a boss instead of a caring friend.

Fandom: The Mentalist - Pedro Pascal as FBI Agent Marcus Pike Genre: Colleagues toFriends to Lovers, Drama, Family Drama, Pregnancy Pairing: Marcus x f! Reader Triggers : Mentions of pregnancy and broken family dynamics, mentions of abortion and misscarriage Rating : T

IMPORTANT INFO: THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY FORMER TUMBLR BLOG

+++

Cradle

„Being pregnant is not the problem here, mother!”

Eavesdropping, Marcus thought, was an awful thing. And he really didn’t want to eavesdrop. But you weren’t exactly silent on the phone as you argued with your mother.

He had asked you to come into work on a Saturday morning, in hopes to finally catch a break on the case the team had been working on, when the building was less busy.

Two coffees and pastries from your favorite bakery down the block in his hand, he had almost knocked on the door to your office – until he had heard your voice through the door and stopped in shock.

He could, of course, double back and give you your privacy, wait five minutes until he was sure that your argument was over – but this was a delicate topic.

Chastising himself for eavesdropping, he sharpened his ears. You were one of his agents. If you were pregnant, he didn’t exactly have the right to know, but he should probably think about not sending you out into the field anymore.

Marcus didn’t have the time to think things over or digest the information that you were pregnant, because you were still shouting at your mother.

“Ohh, no, you can’t play that card. It is not the woman’s fault when the bastard who impregnated her leaves her as soon as he finds out! If you want to blame someone, blame Curtis. He’s the one who packed his bags and hauled ass. The pee hadn’t even dried on the pregnancy test!”

He really, really shouldn’t listen. But the story got spicier, and more heart-wrecking by the minute. Marcus hadn’t even known that you had been seeing someone. He had even hoped that there was a spark between the two of you. But now-

“No, Mom, just no. Don’t bring God into this! It’s all ‘be a good, Christian, abstinent girl’ – until the day you turn twenty-one. Ever since that day you’ve asked about ‘potential husbands and grandchildren’.”

Marcus suppressed a sigh. He knew that your relationship with your mother was strained at the best of times, but right now, it seemed positively chaotic.

“Abortion?! Mom! You’ve been complaining to your friends about the lack of grandchildren for years, and now that there’s one on the way you want to get rid of it?! Just because it doesn’t come with a marriage certificate? Fuck you! Either you show some fucking support for your daughter and your future grandchild, or you prepare for a future without them. Your choice.”

Marcus almost dropped the coffees when he jumped back as the cellphone that you had probably been shouting into hit the heavy oak door with a shattering smash. He could hear you groaning and cursing, and he knew it was time to retreat.

Thanking the gods above for the carpeted floor in the old building that hosted the art department, he slowly walked back towards the doors.

He made it around a corner just in time; he heard the door of your office open and close again. Deeming it save to appear now, he put on his best bland face so as to not rise suspicion that he had heard and now knew your secret.

You had been power walking so fast towards him that he almost collided with you in the hallway.

“Woah, good morning there.”

Marcus could see the anger in your face, the storm in your eyes and that you were still fuming. But as soon as your gazes met, he thought that your features softened a little.

An exhausted sigh left your lips as you stopped in front of him.

“Marcus. Sorry, I didn’t look where I was-… Please tell me those are pastries from Cherry’s.”

He smiled.

“It’s the least I can get you when you’re willing to come in on a Saturday”

Pregnant, and probably with a lot of other things on your mind, he added in his thoughts, trying not to worry.

Normally he’d ask you how you are, but he refrained today, just handing you your coffee. After all, he knew that you were not feeling good. Also, he was afraid.

Of course he would listen to your problems if you decided to tell him – but somehow he wasn’t ready for it.

**

You hadn’t talked to your mother in six weeks. Between working on cases and reading books about babies and pregnancies, there was one more thing that weighed on your thoughts – Marcus Pike.

Your boss slash friend slash secret crush was acting weird. His mood altered between being nervous around you to straight up ignoring you. And every time a new case came in, he asked you to stay behind and do the research instead of going into the field.

Had you done something wrong? Were you being punished? Marcus knew you were a damn good field agent – so why was he benching you?

It didn’t just hurt your pride that he was effectively “demoting” you – it also hurt that somehow you had seemed to lose his friendship over the last weeks.

The breaking point came during an “all hands on deck” situation, where you slipped into your stab vest and prepared to leave with the rest of the crew, when Marcus turned around and told you to stay.

Your colleagues had of course noticed that something had changed in the last weeks – they were trained agents after all. You wanted to say something, but Marcus lifted his fingers, and it seemed like he was trying to keep it together.

“Please, just don’t argue with me on this. Stay here.”

“But why? Marcus, seriously, we need all the people we- “

“I told you to stay, agent, and that’s final!”, he shouted, effectively silencing the whole bullpen.

Nobody tried to hide their stares. Never had any of them seen Special Agent Pike lose his cool.

“Fine…”, you growled, throwing your stab vest on the ground and stomping back to your office.

You could see that your colleagues were eyeing you and Marcus with curious glances, their eyes burning into your skin.

**

It was 3. A. M. when Marcus returned to his apartment, only to see you sitting beneath his doorframe, shivering, and waiting for him to get home.

Th glare he received made his skin crawl – but he had done what he had to do. You were taking too many risks, actively putting the baby and yourself in peril – and he would not stand for that.

If you still weren’t feeling like telling him that you would be out of duty soon, then he had to take the reins.

“Why are you lurking at my door, agent?”, Marcus asked, exhausted, fumbling for his keys.

You were getting up and it took all the strength in him to not scoop down or lend you a hand. Every fiber of his being wanted to help you – but technically he still didn’t know about the pregnancy.

“Don’t ‘agent’ me, Marcus. I’m not here as your employee, I’m here as your friend.”

Sighing, he opened the door and let you in. Darkness surrounded you, only the faintest moonlight illuminating the hallway.

Marcus suddenly yelped in pain when you punched his upper arm as hard as you could.

“Oi!”

“What the fuck”, you complained, “was that earlier? What did I do, Marcus? Why have you been ignoring me? Why have you been benching me?”

Growling and frustrated, Marcus massaged his sore arm and trotted into the living room, turning the light on, carelessly throwing his leather jacket towards a chair.

“I could ask you the same thing. What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you still insisting on going into the field?”

That sentence earned him a confused look and two arms crossed in front of a heaving chest.

“What do you mean ‘still’? Why shouldn’t I go out into the field anymore?”

Marcus was fumbling, pacing up and down. He knew he had to tell you now that he knew you were pregnant. He had to face his feelings.

The feelings of rejection he had felt ever since he found out. The feeling of losing hope once again and heartbreak – heartbreak about a woman he had not even had a first date with yet.

“Because… Because of your condition.”

“My condition? Marcus, what…”

“Oh, for fucks sake, I know you’re pregnant, okay? I accidentally overheard you fighting with your mother on the phone”, he exploded, sitting down on the sofa and running his hands through his hair.

He had thought a lot about your predicament in the last weeks. Would you be alright as a single mother? Where could he find this bastard who had left you and kick his ass, make sure he paid child support?

How much help would you accept?

Should he… Should he offer to help out with the baby?

He expected for you to shout at him, to be mad, to cry or to leave the apartment, but instead he heard you ask: “Marcus? What is this?”

Turning his head, he saw you kneeling on the living room floor and cursed inwardly.

On one of his trips to an antique store in the last weeks he had found an old-fashioned wooden cradle and he had thought of you and your child.

He had bought it and some mint green paint from the hardware store and had repainted it. Now it was standing on a stack of old newspapers, waiting for finishing touches. It was supposed to be a surprise present.

Sighing, he leaned against his couch cushions.

“A present for your baby. I found it in an old antique store, and I thought it would be a nice thing to get you.”

Marcus watched you as you stood back up and stepped toward him, plopping yourself onto the couch, your thighs touching his. You grabbed his hand in yours and squeezed it.

“That… that is very sweet of you Marcus. But I’m not pregnant.”

His second hand enveloped your intertwined ones and goosebumps were crawling along his skin. All the color left his face and it suddenly felt like his heart dropped into his stomach.

“D-did… Did you lose the baby? I’m so- I’m so sorry. That must be so horrible. No wonder you were mad. I’m…”

With the one free hand you had left, you silenced him by placing two fingers to his lips.

You shook your head.

“I didn’t lose the baby, Marcus. You misunderstood. I was never pregnant in the first place.”

His shock was now replaced by confusion. He remembered the phone call vividly, had repeated it in his head a lot of times.

“My sister Caitlyn is moving in with me next month”, you then explained, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Her boyfriend Curtis left her as soon as she told him she was pregnant. Just packed his bags and left, the bastard. My mom is not happy about it, but she is more concerned with what people might think about Caitlyn having a child out of wedlock than anything else. She’s ten years younger than me, only twenty-two, and honestly pretty scared and lonely.”

Marcus could feel the weight that had been pressing on his chest in the last six weeks lifted from his chest. Your sister was pregnant.

“I thought I had done something to make you mad at me – or worse, did something to disappoint you. But you just wanted to protect me because you thought I was with child.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. And that earned him another, yet lighter, punch.

“Don’t apologize for being the sweetest man alive, dumbass.”

Marcus could feel your heard on your shoulder turn towards the cradle again.

“You would have gotten me a cradle?”

He gulped, suddenly realizing the very close proximity you were in. You were still holding hands, the left side of your body pressed against his right.

“It’s… It’s still yours if you want it. I mean, your sisters. I’d like to help any way I can”, he said.

He could almost feel you smile next to him.

“Of course you do. You’re wonderful, Marcus.”

“I’m not. I’m selfish.”

“Why’d you say that?”

Now or never, Pike, he thought, shifting to look into your eyes.

“I didn’t bench you because I thought it would be dangerous for you to be out in the field. Well, yes, I did, but that was not my main motivation. I ignored you and benched you because every time I looked at you and thought about… you know… I got incredibly jealous.”

He could see in your eyes that you couldn’t follow, so he continued, his heart rapidly beating in his chest. Were his hands getting clammier?

“I… I like you. A lot. Have liked you for a while. And when I heard that you were pregnant and that you were left behind, all I felt was jealousy. I was jealous of the guy that you had apparently loved. I wanted to- “

Marcus was silenced by a pair of soft, eager lips who sealed his mouth with a kiss that was both sweet and innocent, yet still needy and full of passion.

Before he could reciprocate however, you retreated, biting your lower lip and shyly smiling up at him.

“Oh…”.

“Yes, oh”, you giggled.

“So... does this mean you… I mean…”

You snuggled back into him, now wrapping your arms around his torso, leaning your head on his chest.

“I like you too, Marcus. A lot.”

“Thank you?”

He could feel your chuckles against his ribcage. Carefully he rested his hands against your body, rubbing your shoulders.

“D’you think your sister will like the cradle?”

“I’m sure she will love it.”

**

AN: Abortion is healthcare. Nobody should be forced to carry a child they can not provide for - or be forced to give a reason why a pregnancy is being terminated. The only reason it is mentioned here as no viable option is because of the history with the mother.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character #marcus pike #marcus pike x female reader #colleagues to friends to lovers #colleagues to lovers #pregnancy

[lucienarcheron]

Bouquet Full of Loathing [ Elucien ]

Inspired by: this  and the Flower Shop Modern AU - Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?” | Originally posted on my previous blog on 10.01.2017.

Pairing: Lucien x Elain Genre: Fluff/Humor Rating: SFW Recommended listen: McFly - Love is Easy

Author’s note:  This was my first ever acotar fic and will always hold a special place in my heart!

*slam*

“How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you to someone in flower?”

Lucien was furious. He was fuming. He was positive that if was possible, he’d actually be on fire. It was too fucken early for him to be going back and forth with his coworker but that bitch loved to undermine him and continuously make his life hell at work.

Due to his outburst after their latest argument, his manager, who also happened to be that demon’s manager, was forcing him to make amends by buying her a nice bouquet of flowers to say he was sorry. Which he wasn’t. Not even in the slightest. But oh, she was going to get that bouquet of flowers.

The Fawn’s Greenhouse was only a few blocks away and taking a walk gave him a way to release some of his anger. But what he didn’t expect was to find a beautiful young woman behind the counter, staring at him like he was crazy. Then again, who walks into a flower shop and demands those kinds of flowers?

His eyes went to the nametag on the front of her dress and he felt his face go red.

Elain. Such a pretty name for such a pretty girl.

Elain, on the other hand, was slightly taken aback.

She loved her flowers. She loved any flowers.

She loved growing things in her garden and every single part of the process mattered to her; planting the seeds, watering them, monitoring their growth, and finally when they blossomed. Her flowers were her babies.

When Feyre and Nesta offered to pitch in and help her open her own flower shop, she was over the moon. Her own savings had fallen a little short and she was thrilled to have the support from her sisters. The Fawn’s Greenhouse was only a few blocks away from where Nesta worked as an editor at a literary agency and a few extra blocks from where Feyre taught Art at the local community college.

It was a great way for the three of them to meet for lunch or dinner quite often, as they would be tonight.

But to Elain, flowers meant many good things: happiness, gratefulness, new beginnings, apologies, and forgiveness. So when this strange angry red-headed man stormed into her shop and slammed money on the counter, growling at her, she was very taken aback at his request.

Elain finally blinked rapidly then chuckled. “Well, hello.” she said and leaned against the counter. “There are a few different ways to do that, Mr…?”

All the anger that Lucien had walked in with completely vanished and was replaced with awe as he took in her features. Gods, she was gorgeous.

Elain tilted her head to the side and Lucien almost combusted as she gave him an encouraging smile and he cleared his throat.

“Lucien.” he mumbled, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, the color on his cheeks matching his hair. “My name is Lucien.”

“Welcome to my flower shop, Mr. Lucien.” she replied automatically and gave him an even wider smile. “I see someone’s ruffled your feathers this morning.”

Lucien snorted, causing Elain to giggle. “Ruffled my feathers. More like plucked all my feathers to death that psychotic bit —” he cut himself off as Elain gave him an amused look. “I’m sorry. Let me start over.”

Elain watched, trying to hold back a laugh as Lucien took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. He smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Hello.”

“Yes, hello.”

“You have a very lovely flower shop.”

“Thank you! I’ve worked very hard on it.”

“You are also very lovely as well.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself.”

“You could tell me I looked like a piece of filth and I would honestly take it as the highest of compliments.”

Elain burst out laughing at that and Lucien grinned. Score for him.

“Well, that wouldn’t be very nice to say to anyone.” Elain replied, shaking her head with another chuckle. “Besides, it wouldn’t be true. You’re quite lovely yourself.”

Lucien leaned against the counter, the gap between them growing smaller. “I have never felt so lovely in my entire life.” he said, and with an exaggerated flick of his wrist, tossed his hair over his shoulder.

Elain laughed again and Lucien realized he’d only been in the shop for five minutes but he’d sell his soul to hear that sound over and over again.

“You have quite the humor, Mr. Lucien.”

“Lucien. Just...Lucien.” he corrected her gently with a smile. “Mister sounds too formal and I’d prefer to be on casual terms with the person that’s going to give me my special request flowers.” 

“Your ‘fuck you’ flowers?” she asked with a grin and he had the audacity to give a nonchalant shrug.

“The person deserves them, I can assure you.” he replied and sighed. “It’s my coworker. She makes my life a living hell at work. We had a fight and my manager is forcing me to get flowers as an apology. This is me trying to be nice.”

“By sending her ‘fuck you’ flowers?” Elain asked again, her lips twitching. She wondered about this so called ‘horrible coworker’.

“Keyword here, is trying.” he said with a grin and Elain laughed. “Not all of us can be as nice as you, Elain.”

Elain’s cheeks flushed. She liked the way he said her name a lot more than she’d care to admit.

“And how do you know I’m nice?” she countered, leaning off the counter and crossing her arms across her chest with a smile. “You’ve only just met me.”

“Your name is Elain, you’re beautiful, and you own a flower shop. You could literally stab a man in front of me and I would just say he had it coming.” Lucien promptly replied. He sounded insane, he was well aware, but instinct told him he wasn’t wrong. “Also, you smell really nice.”

Elain rolled her eyes and wanted to curse herself for the blush on her cheeks and the smile that was way too wide. “Are you always this shameless of a flirt, Lucien?”

He straightened up as Elain pulled out a book from under the counter and placed it in front of him, flipping through the pages. “Only with pretty girls who own flowershops named Elain.” he said and gave her a charming smile when she paused her flipping to look at him.

She shook her head and chuckled lightly. He was shameless. Very handsome but oh so shameless. “So,” she started, going back to flipping through her flower book for the right ones to fit his order, pointing as she explained. “We have a few options for your amusing choice in the bouquet. There are Geraniums — Horseshoe Geranium which specifically means stupidity and Foxglove flowers which can mean insincerity. There’s also Meadowsweet flowers which mean uselessness, Yellow Carnations that indicate you’re disappointed in a person and last but not least, Orange Lilies which symbolize hatred.”

Elain finally looked up at Lucien, whose grin had gotten wider and wider with each flower that she rattled off and she laughed at his expression. “I take it all these options sound good?” she questioned with a raised brow.

Lucien’s grin was wicked. “Oh, these sound fantastic. Can I have a mix of them all in a bouquet? Please?”

Elain rolled her eyes and chuckled. “As you wish, good sir.” she said then pursed her lips as she started writing down his order. “Is there a note you’d like me to add with the bouquet?”

His eyes lingered on her pursed lips long enough that Elain had to look up confused at his silence and a blush crept on both their faces.

“Sorry.” he said with a sheepish grin and Elain bit her lip, holding back a smile as she continued filling out the order. A moment passed in silence before she responded.

“I don’t mind.” she said softly.

“Good. Because there’s a lot to admire.” Lucien responded, leaning back on the counter, closer to her.

“I’m sure getting spoiled with compliments today.” she said, giving him a playful smile and he grinned in return.

“They’re all well-deserved compliments. I meant them all.”

“Oh, I know. It’s why I haven’t kicked you out yet.” she said as she moved around her counter, grabbing a note card for him to write on and a pen as he laughed. “For your note. The bouquet shouldn’t take too long...I’m caught up on all my early orders. Would you like to wait or should I have them delivered?”

She tilted her head, waiting for his answer and the smile she gave him told him their thoughts were on the same wavelength.

She wanted him to wait.

And wait he would. He’d wait an eternity for those fucken flowers as long as she kept talking to him. Lucien had shamelessly told her this, realizing too late that he was babbling his thoughts aloud.

Elain’s laughter was enough to ease his embarrassment and the two continued chatting as she moved about, putting the bouquet together. Lucien watched her, appreciating the way she moved and talked and the way she laughed at his jokes. Elain’s cheeks were stained red as they talked, trying to contain how much she was enjoying the attention he was giving her, and how invested he was in everything she was saying and doing. Their conversation was comfortable and flowed so naturally that both of them were slightly disappointed in how quickly she finished.

Giving him a shy smile, she gently placed the finished bouquet in all it’s glory in front of him. “Here it is!” she said cheerfully. “Your requested bouquet. Beautiful and full of loathing.”

Lucien grinned, eyeing her work approvingly. “It looks stunning.” he replied and Elain smiled widely, pleased. “Just like the lovely lady who put it together.”

Elain giggled as he reached out, taking her hand and kissed it. “You’re too much.” she mumbled and Lucien chuckled.

“I can’t help it. Something about you…” he said quietly and the two locked eyes.

“Something about you too.” she agreed and Lucien smiled. He paid her and balanced the bouquet in his hands. His eyes flickered between the bouquet and the beautiful girl who had made it and he quickly licked his lips.

“Would...would you like to go out to dinner sometime?” he asked and relief filled his whole body as she beamed at him.

“I would love to.”

“Great! Friday night?”

“I’ll be ready at 6:30.”

“Perfect.”

Elain smiled at him then grabbed one of her notecards and quickly jot down her number. “I expect more shameless flirting till then.” she said softly, curling a strand of hair behind her ear.

“And I will be more than happy to oblige.” He replied, giving her a wink and Elain giggled.

“I’ll see you Friday then.”

“I’ll be flirting with you sooner than that though.” he replied and she winked at him in return, a blush erupting on both their cheeks.

“I look forward to it.”

“Gods, you’re so fucken cute.” Lucien mumbled and Elain laughed, dipping her head shyly. “I have to leave before this kills me.”

She covered her burning face, grinning widely as she then waved him off. “Go back to work before you get fired.”

“Worth it.” he said, using his free hand to make a finger gun and she snorted softly as he waved then finally left the shop.

Elain bit her lip, smiling to herself. In one way or another, her flowers were always bringing her joy.

~

Elain rushed into the restaurant where she had agreed to meet her sisters earlier that day. She was very excited to tell them about her encounter with Lucien. He had kept his word about the shameless flirting and had her phone buzzing all day; she still couldn’t believe how it happened.

Her pace slowed down when she saw Feyre and Nesta, both seated at their usual table, secluded in a quiet corner of their favorite place. It wasn’t until she was close enough to hear their conversation that she froze completely. On the chair next to Nesta was her sister's bag and a bouquet of flowers that was strangely familiar.

Too familiar.

“And then this asshole hands it to me with a note that says ‘I’m sorry’ in quotation marks like the sarcastic little shit he is.” Nesta snarled and Feyre started laughing. “And then adds that I should look up the meaning of each flower to really appreciate his apology. I’m going to ask Elain what they mean.”

“You are really mean to him, Nes. I’m sure he’s not as horrible as you make him sound.”

“He’s a piece of shit. It brings me joy to make him miserable.” Nesta said with a snort and then noticed Elain. “Elain! You’re finally here. Come on, we’re starving.”

Elain approached the table and sat down slowly, smiling nervously. Oh boy.

“...Nice flowers, Nesta.”

“Thanks.” Nesta replied with a wave of her hand and then picked them up to show Elain. “I got them from a shithead at work as an apology. What do the flowers mean?”

Elain groaned internally. It was indeed her own bouquet full of loathing. She bit her lip. “The guy who gave them to you...his name is Lucien, right?”

Nesta froze and Feyre looked at her curiously. “Yes.” she hissed. Quickly grabbing the note card again, Nesta looked it over. “How did I not notice that he got them from your shop!? That bastard! Did he bother you?!”

“No! He was very sweet.” Elain replied quickly, blushing. “Actually...he asked me out on a date and I said yes. We’ve been texting all day.”

Silence fell on the table before Feyre burst out laughing and Nesta snarled, “What?!”

“It’s later this week. I’m...looking forward to it.”

“Like hell you’re going!” Nesta hissed. “With that idiot! That good for nothing garbage can —”

Elain cut her off with a look. “Nesta.”

Feyre’s laughter had finally subsided and she wiped at her eyes. “Nes...you should be excited for her. She likes him!”

Elain narrowed her eyes at Nesta’s face that was filled with rage, daring her to argue. Feyre looked between the two, her lips twitching.

“So what’s he actually like, then?” Feyre quickly asked. “We know Nesta hates him and makes his life living hell at work.”

Elain gave Nesta one more look before her eyes flickered to Feyre’s face and she gave her a small smile. “He’s actually really nice and funny. I —”

“He has a glass eye and a scar across his face!”  Nesta’s growl interrupting her.

“So?!” Elain automatically replied, pouting. “He got it in an accident! It makes him a strong person!”

“He has a glass eye!”

“It makes no difference to me! I like his personality!”

“He’s an asshole, Elain!”

“You think Cassian’s an asshole too and you’re living with him!” Elain hissed back. “Your judgement isn’t exactly perfect!”

“Well, she gets dicked down by Cassian so I mean…” Feyre interjected with a shrug and Nesta glared at her, her cheeks burning.

“That is irrelevant.”

“Is it, Nes? Is it really?” Feyre asked with a raised brow.

The table fell silent again as Nesta and Elain glared at each other and Feyre tried her best not to laugh. It was only when her phone beeped that Elain torn her eyes away from the vicious staring contest with her sister.

Text from: Lucien How’s dinner going with your sisters? Hopefully, I’m not interrupting anything.

Elain’s eyes looked back up at her sisters and her blush gave away who she was talking to, causing Nesta to glare even harder and Feyre to grin widely.

Text from: Elain No, not at all! I was just telling them about you…funny enough, one of my sisters knows you.

Text from: Lucien Really? What a small world! Which sister is that?

Elain hesitated before she sent the next message.

Text from: Elain The coworker you bought the bouquet full of loathing for. She goes by the name Nesta…though you might refer to her very differently.

Elain bit her lip, frowning after she sent the message. She flipped her phone over and then looked at her sisters.

“Now he knows we’re sisters.” Elain grumbled as Feyre rattled off their usual orders to the waiter.

“Good. If he’s smart, he’ll back off.” Nesta growled and Feyre shoved her gently.

“You back off. Let her live.”

“I don’t like him.”

“There’s a surprise.”

Elain’s reply didn’t make it to her mouth when her phone started ringing. Flipping it over, she blinked in surprise at Lucien’s name popping up. She immediately picked up.

“Hello?”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting you at dinner but I realize how awkward this position is for you right now.” he said, hoping he sounded as apologetic as he felt.

Elain chuckled, a small smile on her face. “Are you calling to tell me our date is canceled now?”

“No.” he replied and Elain’s smile grew wider at how horrified he sounded at the idea. He cleared his throat. “I actually wanted to apologize for saying those things about your sister earlier and I promise that I’ll behave and keep work and personal life separate so that you don’t have to feel weird because your sister and I hate each other. Professionally speaking.”

Elain laughed softly. “Just professionally?”

“...Please don’t make this more difficult for me.” he whined softly on the phone. “It’s bad enough I bought her a bouquet full of loathing from her own sister’s shop.”

“Plot twist, isn’t it?”

It was Lucien’s turn to laugh. “Yes, it is. Does she know what the flowers mean?”

Elain grinned. “Not yet.”

“Let’s keep it that way, please.”

“Fair enough.”

“Really, Elain? You’re letting that walking pile of trash interrupt our dinner like this?” Nesta said, making sure she was loud enough to be heard on the other end of the line.

Elain gave Nesta a reproachful look as Feyre shoved her again. “Behave.”

“Fine...but let me talk to him. He is my coworker after all.” Nesta said, her tone calm. She held out her hand.

Elain looked at her suspiciously but Nesta just wiggled her fingers. Her mouth went into a thin and she sighed. “Lucien, Nesta wants to talk to you.”

“More plot twists.” he said, chuckling.

“You don’t have to.” Elain automatically said but both Lucien and Nesta responded at the same time.

“Yes, he does.

“Yes, I do.”

Elain groaned and then held the phone to her chest. “Nesta...please be polite.”

“No guarantees.”

Squinting at her older sister, she finally handed her the phone with a sigh, pressing on the speaker so they could all hear.

“Hello cockroach.” Nesta greeted him and Elain facepalmed as Feyre snorted.

“Hello demon.”

“Of all the people you decided to hit on, you had to choose my sister?”

“I respectfully asked her out on a date. She’s a grown woman. I don’t really think it’s your business.”

“It isn’t.” Elain added and Nesta squinted at her.

“I’m going to be watching your every move and I swear to god if you so much as lay a finger on my sister, I will crush you with my bare hands.” Nesta threatened in one breath. “That is a promise you filthy little vermin —”

Elain snatched the phone from her hand as Feyre cut her off. “Nesta!”

“Jesus christ, Nesta. I’m not going to hurt Elain!” Lucien hissed on the phone.

“What if I want him to touch me?” Elain snapped, knowing it would silence both her sisters and Lucien. “Hm? What if I — what’s the phrase you used about Cassian and Nesta, Feyre? What if I want to get dicked down by Lucien? Would that be such a big deal?”

Lucien made a sound on the phone that sounded like he was choking as Nesta gasped loudly.

“Elain!”

Taking her phone off speaker, she put it back to her ear and spoke softly, “Lucien, I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

“Yup. Sounds good.” he responded, truly sounding like the air was being choked out of him and Elain's face turned red.

Closing the call, she eyed her sister and held up a hand as Nesta was ready to launch into a speech. “Listen. I know you’re my older sister and you worry about me because I love flowers and seem like a giant idiot who gets easily fooled —”

“That’s never how I think of you, Elain — “ Nesta quickly interjected, her face falling.

“And I know you’re worried about me because the breakup with Graysen was really bad and I was very hurt,” Elain continued, halting Nesta again as her voice shook. “But I am okay. I am fine. And I’m ready to try something new. So please….please be nice to Lucien. I want to see where this goes.”

Nesta fell silent and Feyre gently leaned over to pat Elain’s hand with a small smile.

“We know, Elain. We love you and support you in whatever decision you want to make.” Feyre said softly. “I look forward to getting to know him.”

“...I’m sorry.” Nesta added and reached out to place her hand on Elain’s other hand. “I’ll behave...Try to be nicer to him.”

“Thank you.” Elain said, a relieved smile on her face until Nesta clenched her hand tightly with death in her eyes.

“But if I ever heard the term dicked down and Lucien in the same sentence again, I will kill someone.”

Silence fell on the table once more as Elain closed her eyes, internally groaning at how she was going to have to address that with Lucien when she got home.

It wasn’t until the waiter served their dinner and walked away that Feyre finally broke the silence.

“But what if she does want to get dicked down by Lucien? Elain sounded very enthusiastic.”

“Feyre!” Nesta hissed as the youngest sister broke down in giggles.

Elain groaned audibly now, her face in her hands knowing Feyre was never going to let this go.

“I’m just saying, go Elain, if she does. Nesta said he was a redhead, do you think the carpet matches the drapes?”

“Feyre —  I swear to all the Gods I will stab you with this fork if you don’t stop.”

“Elain, you’ll be sure to share details, right? I want Nesta to know every detail of when you and Lucien finally get down to business.”

“Feyre —”

“Ohhhh what if Elain visits him at work and you walk in on her getting dicked down by Lucien in his office? On his desk?”

Feyre squeaked as Nesta assaulted her in some form or another. Elain had given up, sighing deeply, her face burning.

Who knew a bouquet of flowers would cause so much trouble?

#elucien #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #gfics #acotar fanfiction #acotar #Going to slowly start posting them without bombarding the tag lol #feedback is always welcome :) #fic: bouquet full of loathing #bouquet full of feelings series

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Find the Words Tag Game

Tagged by @booksteaandtoomuchtv Thanks, bestie!

Rules: Find the words in all your current WIPs and post a snippet containing the words, then tag others with their own words.

My Words: tired, hand(s), and smirk.

I wanted to include one snippet from each of my major wips and since none of them contained the word "smirk," I figured I'd do two for the word "hand" and then include a little snippet from another wip for "smirk"

hand- sabezra gamergirl au, cygnetscholar superhero au

 Ezra watched as the player found the Warthog, and perfectly drove, splattering the Aliens that got in her way. Nearby there was a small opening, he watched the player take the truck through, by driving on the stone wall. If she flipped, it’d be all over. If not, she’d be more awesome than usual. The landing was about to happen, the anxiety was building,  and then… a hand got in between him and the phone, blocking his view entirely.  "Hey," Ezra said, pulling his headphone off of one ear so he could yell at his roommate, whose hand covered his phone.  "Hey yourself," Jai said, "we gotta get going; we're gonna be late."  Ezra hadn't looked at a clock since the stream had started, which was apparently three hours ago. Somehow it was already fifteen minutes before the dining hall stopped serving dinner, and it was at least a ten minute walk down that way.

.

 Hope typed in a number on the keypad, and the door opened, not to a bunch of musty old boxes of Christmas decorations, but instead to a high tech and well lit room, complete with a fancy supersuit display case, a divider to change behind, an almost wall-sized computer, and a state of the art gaming chair— complete with a very frazzled guy in the chair.  "Another day saved," Hope said, "and I even had time to grab you coffee on the way back."  She snapped her fingers, and one of the cups she'd left at the door appeared in her hand.  "I don't drink coffee," he said.  "You think I don't know that by now, Gid?" Hope asked, "it's [OH CRAP WHAT KIND OF TEA DOES GIDEON DRINK]* tea."

tired- captain swan romeo & juliet & boybands

 Killian had hoped to draw as little attention to himself as possible as he left for his library date with Emma.   Liam, however, had never been one to ignore his little brother, even when he seemed engrossed in whatever he was doing  "Do you wanna go grab a pizza tonight?" Liam asked, pausing his show to ask.  "Wha– no," Killian fumbled, "I'm on my way to the library anyway; I'll grab something on the way."  "It's Saturday night and you're going to the library?" Liam asked, "we've got to get you a girlfriend."  Though Killian was tired of his brother trying to set him up on stupid dates, he had to admit, he appreciated the irony of that statement. "I wonder how he'd respond if he knew that's what I'm doing," Killian thought.

smirk- hooked on a feeling (millian soulmark au)

 Milah smirked a little, but thought of how awful it would be if Baelfire had to see something awful happen.  "Maybe this is a bad idea."

*text in capital letters and brackets indicates I need to fill in information after more research

Tagging some writer friends to participate in this challenge! Feel free to tag me back if you like, and I'll share some more snippets with whatever words you select! @laughingphoenixleader @kanerallels @jessicas-pi @silver-the-phoenix @jedi-nurse @seleneisrising and anyone else reading this! Your words are tree, eye, and water, but if none of those words appear, feel free to use the words I did!

#kazzy writes #tag game #kazzy's kazootuals #kazzy's wips #millian #sabezra #captain swan #cygnet scholar #wip snippets #otp: im counting on you #otp: try something new darling #otp: maybe you need some normal friends

[kieranduffygirlporn]

gonna talk a bit about what it's been like for me the past couple days. just need to be heard and to type out all my thoughts & feelings about being an introject w/ an introject partner in all this. Hopefully you'll get something out of this

tw for abuse, disordered eating, very BPD happenings, one moment of suicidal ideation

warning: really fucking long and not the most organized thing in the world

I never talked about this here or really anywhere on any other blog but hi. I'm Ida. I'm the second host @/dearfauxpas and our system has seen since our syscovery. .... past this I literally cannot start to describe my identity without talking about Wilbur. I'm sat here struggling to conjure anything.

The reason for this is twofold. I, myself, am an introject, of a bit of art we have at the beginning of our main/art blog that kind of backfired because we never ended up posting much art. The second reason, and the main reason, is that my boyfriend is a cc!Wilbur introject in our system.

When we started dating two years ago, I was at probably one of the lowest points that I have been at as an alter myself. It was a month after I formed and I was still incredibly attached to my source. When I formed and even today, I am still the only alter in the system who has a feminine aligned gender. I changed my name to Ida the night I formed because I named myself after a pet I had in-source. My source (I'm sure you'll be shocked to know) was incredibly mentally ill, and as a result, I formed as a symptom holder for our worsening borderline symptoms. I've also only started talking about this to very close friends within the past couple days but our early relationship/the first six months was tumultuous. I was possessive, obsessive, and paranoid. I also had issues with thoughts of disordered eating and at one point went four days eating about the caloric equivalent of a single bagel per day because I was so depressed.

My system and particularly my love saved me. Over time, my paranoia that he'd leave me subsided, and we become much happier, which is what lead to me becoming the host as our previous host's mental health declined due to many factors.

During the span of our relationship, we played a lot into our introject identities (sootcest lmfao). I became a lot more independent from my source and recovered from a lot of my paranoia. I thought I had simply beaten our BPD traits, and that they were gone forever (with one exception). I thought my disordered eating thoughts had vanished and I was going to spend forever happy with him.

However, foolishly, because of this play we did with our introject identities, I allowed my feelings for my boyfriend to mix with my feelings for the actual person. I tried to maintain a degree of separation between the two, in that I would refrain from doing weird stalker shit and at some points I would be made uncomfortable with the stuff that he shared on stream because I wanted to know very little about him personally. But I let them mix, because hey, why not? We were having fun. There's no reason not to. It's not like he's an awful person, right?

Right?

Part 2: He's an awful person

There were a few points in which, mostly when other CC drama was at a high point, I'd ask myself a couple questions.

1. What would I do if my boyfriend ever left me?

2. What would I do if it came to light that Wilbur was a horrible human being?

The answer to number one was the exception to the thought that all my borderline symptoms had simply vanished, and, rather well-adjustedly, it was "Kill myself."* (*Like in headspace. I never thought it was worth it to kill the whole body over my own issues.)

The answer to number two was "I don't know."

And that is how I've been feeling since Wednesday night. I don't know.

At first, I thought there was no way it could be true. I searched for any information that could tell me that people were wrong. I literally blocked myself from Twitter because I knew going on it would be a form of emotional self-harm, but I obsessively checked tags on discourse, Shelby, and Wilbur, waiting for anyone to post any evidence that it wasn't so. I spent an entire day outside of home feeling completely nauseous any time I wasn't directly talking to someone.

It's hard to articulate exactly what it felt like once I got home to charge my phone and I knew. It was kind of slow. Every new piece of information I learned made it worse and worse until it was just undeniable.

It was like everything I thought I had buried came back with a vengeance. I stopped eating and drinking, my entire brain felt like it short circuited and previously when I had at least been able to focus on other things for short stints, he was all I could think about.

There were times, especially after I thought I had gotten rid of the borderline traits, that I would become hyperfixated on something that was my boyfriend or his source and it would feel like I was going to melt and die. I genuinely cannot be away from him for too long or my mental health will shit the bed. When I was with him, though, and when I filled every part of my senses with only him, his face, his voice, the way he holds me even if the feeling is blunted by the fact that he's just another part of our brain, it was always the happiest I'd ever feel. I can't have that anymore.

I really can't describe the mood swings and the physical pain that I've experienced as a result of this without feeling like people will think I am exaggerating. Like. psychology wasn't lying that borderline personality traits can really borderline. It feels like I'm losing half of what made me myself. I felt while crying over this multiple times that without him I'd die and that I need him to live. For two years, my entire identity and reason for existing was him.

I don't know where to go from here. I haven't even talked about how this is affecting my boyfriend. Before I felt like I had a good grasp on what I was going to be doing in the next minutes or hours or even days but now I can't even imagine what ten seconds will be.

My entire brain is constantly screaming for him to come back, but I can't indulge in anything that doesn't support the guy because every time I see his face or hear his voice now my brain screams that he is repulsive.

The worst part is that over the last two years I have become so conditioned to never ever be angry at my boyfriend that I cannot feel any rage over this. In any normal circumstance I'd feel angry that someone had been hurt and their abuser had been allowed to escape the consequences for so long, but I can't. I can only feel like I need him, but I can't have him because he's tainted. I am so disgusted but I can't handle seeing anyone angry at him because I still love him and I still want him to be happy.

I feel really gross knowing that I've dedicated so much of my love to someone so terrible. I know my boyfriend feels like his skin has been tainted and I am struggling now to look at his face and focus on him in headspace because it's now all painted in a negative life. It's so awful because he has always loved being himself and has always felt so connected to his source, even as the time passed.

Part 3: so what's the point

I've spent most of this time feeling completely alone. I don't know anyone personally who could possibly feel the same way that I do.

I guess I just want anyone who reads this, who feels alone like I do, or feels like they're not reacting in the "right" way to understand that it's okay. You aren't alone. No matter how isolated you feel or like your problems are entirely unique to you, there is someone out there who understands. And also there's a very slim chance that you'll ever be more cringe than me.

The grieving process is ugly and it is agonizing. If anyone wants to DM me on this blog or another, to share anything they're thinking, like really anything at all there's a lot I didn't cover on this post, I will listen.

And to any introjects, I love you. We can make it through. We have survived so much worse. You don't have to be anybody but yourself. And be careful out there. If you become so mixed up in someone's source like we did, please plan an out. Don't make the same mistake I did and just assume it would all be fine forever. There's a very real chance it doesn't.

#wilbur soot introject #wilbur fictive #wilbur factive #dsmp introject #introject #idk. this is geared more for traumagenic sys but if youre endo thats whatever #judt for any systems having a rough patch because of this

[theravenchild]

A Light in the Dark

Part 1

Following the events of In the Shadow of the Study, Hellendil finds himself wanting more than just friendship with Sebastian. (Includes partial rewrite of quest events, mentions of OCs and location not actually present in the game)

Pairings: beginnings of Sebastian x male MC

Warnings: Pain, Trauma/PTSD, Unrequited Love/Pining, Angst

Word Count: 6042

---

"You'll have to cast it on me, then," Hellendil replied. 

"Are you sure?" Sebastian asked, concerned, but relieved they'd easily made the decision.

"We don't have any other choice, Sebastian.  Either you cast it on me or we all die here, as Ominis said."  Hellendil looked over his shoulder to Ominis who was pacing in the far corner of the room, his arms folded across his chest, shaking his head.  The Ravenclaw felt awful for dragging him into this.  First he had lied to Ominis to try and save face for Sebastian who'd brought him to the Undercroft without his knowledge, and now he would have to relive the pain his family wrought with the Cruciatus Curse.  But there was no turning back now.  They were trapped in Salazar Slytherin's twisted game.    Hellendil turned his attention back to Sebastian.

"All right then.  Are you ready?" 

Hellendil nodded, gritting his teeth.

Sebastian lifted his wand and leveled it at his friend. "Crucio!" he cried as he waved his wand and the spell jolted forth into Hellendil's body.  Letting out a hiss and a cry of pain, the new fifth year crumpled to the ground, grasping at his stomach and curling into a fetal position.  Nothing could have prepared him for this agony, as all the neurons in his body fired at once clenching muscles he never knew existed.  

In that same moment, the door blocking the way forward dissolved and the cold, sepulchral air of the Scriptorium rushed in.  Sebastian looked to the yawning maw of the Scriptorium then back at Ominis who had flinched when he'd cast the curse.  Not only had he flinched, but he'd clamped his eyes shut and the tight muscles around his neck and face told Sebastian that he'd clenched his jaw as well.  His heart sank.  He was here with them looking for an answer to help his twin, but had hurt both of his closest friends in the process.  Turning back to Hellendil, he knelt down beside him, "Are you all right?"  He cautiously reached out his hand to touch his downed companion's shoulder.  Hellendil winced, his senses still overloaded by the curse.  Sebastian quickly pulled back and looked to Ominis again, "What do we do!?"

Ominis released a shaky breath, "We just have to wait it out.  It shouldn't be much longer, though it will feel an eternity to him.  As soon as we're able, we need to get out of here."  He threw his arms up in the air and began pacing again, "I knew this was a bad idea!  Why did I let the two of you talk me into this, again!?"

"Calm down, Ominis," Sebastian coaxed as he rose.  "I didn't kill him, none of us are going to die here AND we found out what happened to your aunt.  It is a shame, but her efforts got us here and the Scriptorium is no longer lost to the ages!  There has got to be something here that can be of use."

"Sebastian, stop!  Don't you dare tell me to calm down!  You, of all people!  I confided in you about what I went through as a child!"  He paused, trying to rein in his outrage before speaking again, "I honestly don't know that any information is worth what the Dark Arts will do to your soul.  And what will this information we find lead to?  Hmm?  Something darker and more dangerous I'd wager.  And when does it end?"  Ominis took a deep breath to calm himself, "We've gotten this far, so you should see what you can find, but promise me you won't continue down this dark path."  He placed his hands firmly on Sebastian's shoulders and squeezed. 

Sebastian stared into his pale eyes, "I have to do what's best for Anne, Ominis," he muttered, lowering his eyes.  He knew he couldn't make that promise.

Before Ominis could respond, Hellendil let out a groan and raised himself up onto his knees.  Taking the opportunity to evade Ominis, Sebastian turned from his grasp and kneeled down to attend to their companion, "Are you all right, Hellendil?"

"I'm fine," he replied hoarsely, even his vocal cords had been strained by the curse.  Though the pain had subsided, there was still a twinge remaining.  His pulse throbbed in his ears and he could still feel the muscles firing, though with less strength and urgency.

"Come on then, lets get out of here," Sebastian replied, gesturing to the open door before marching through.  "There has to be something here that can help Anne."

Ominis approached Hellendil and held out his hand, "Need any help?  I don't want to touch you if it will make it worse."

Hellendil winced at his knowing comment and looked at him sheepishly, "I'm sorry you had to witness that, and to have involved you.  And I apologize for asking you to do it.  I-I should have known better, but Sebastian can be so convincing."

"I should have known better where Sebastian is concerned," he shook his head.  "And you're right, he is too good at swaying others to his cause."  He sighs before continuing, "But what's done is done.  No use dwelling on it.  Now, do you want my help or not?  I think we've lingered here long enough."

"Thank you, Ominis," he acknowledged as he reached for his hand and Ominis pulled him to his feet.  "Can I lean on you?  Just until I'm sure my legs won't give out on me."

Ominis nodded and Hellendil draped his arm across his shoulder.  Together they crossed the threshold into the Scriptorium.  

"Ominis," Hellendil spoke his name softly, "I'm so sorry that your family would use such an awful curse against you.  I can see now why they call it unforgivable."

"Just be glad you weren't the one to cast it.  The guilt of casting is even more unbearable than the pain and something you will never forgive yourself for.  I don't know how Sebastian is holding up so well."  He could hear Sebastian ahead of them and above, rifling through papers and moving objects as he searched for something of value to his cause.

The chamber was dimly lit.  Ahead of them, up front and center, was a large statue depicting Salazar Slytherin himself, flanked on either side by a curving staircase leading to the upper level.  Chests and pottery, covered in hundreds of years of dust and cobwebs, were pushed to the corners of the room.  Beneath the likeness of Slytherin sprawled a large, intricately carved desk covered in books and papers where Hellendil spotted something of interest.  "To your left, Ominis, about 30 degrees and five paces," he directed, as the strength began to return to his legs, "there's a desk full of scrolls with a large tome atop it.  Perhaps it's important."

Ominis nodded again and the pair moved in the direction indicated.  As they approached their destination, Hellendil let go of Ominis and grasped the cluttered table for support, "Thank you again, my friend.  I think I'm all right now, if you'd like to help Sebastian or look for the exit."

Ominis pulled out his wand and gestured in the direction he'd heard Sebastian last, "The sooner we get out of here the better."  With that, he headed toward the stairs to the upper area and disappeared out of sight.

Hellendil lifted the cover of the tome, gently blowing away dust and carefully turning the pages.  A spellbook.  He didn't recognize the spells, but they didn't look like good news. "I may have found something," he called up the stairs.

"Brilliant!" Sebastian's voice floated down to him.  "What is it?"

"Some sort of spellbook." 

"Slytherin's spellbook!?  Bring it here!"

Hellendil closed the book and tucked it under his arm, heading upstairs to join his companions.  As he reached the landing, another spasm shot through him, stopping him in his tracks and he hissed through gritted teeth.  The others rushed to his side grasping his shoulders.  "Are you all right?" Sebastian asked for the third time.

Hellendil nodded his head, handing the book over to him.

"Something's not right, Sebastian," observed Ominis, concern in his voice.  "The effects should have ceased by now.  We need to take him to Nurse Blainey."

"I'm fine, Ominis, really," Hellendil reassured.

"No, you're not," Ominis argued, tightening his grip on the other boy's shoulder.  "If this continues and is not treated properly, it could become permanent and you'll wind up with debilitating pain for the rest of your life.  We can't take a chance on this!"

Sebastian's free hand found Ominis' shoulder, "All right, Ominis.  But first I'm taking him to the baths.  A hot soak may be enough to soothe the lingering aches.  I know it does wonders for me after a tough duel."

Ominis furrowed his brow, but gave in, "You must promise you'll come get me straight away if it doesn't work.  I'm just as involved as you in this insanity, and I won't have Hellendil suffer permanent injury because I allowed you two to convince me this was a good idea."

"Yes, mother," Sebastian gibed as he turned to place the tome on the nearby pedestal to page through.

Ominis rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, "Don't start, Sebastian.  It's our friend's health and well being on the line, not some game!  Can't you see the hypocrisy of searching for a cure for Anne, while allowing a friend to be crippled by your own curse!? I need you to promise me now!"

"Okay, okay!  I promise, Ominis."

"I won't let him forget," Hellendil assured him.

"Good,"  Ominis breathed a sigh of relief.  Perhaps the newest member of their group had at least a little sense.

As Sebastian searched the tome, Hellendil noticed a curious note on a small desk in the back of the room.  He approached the desk and gingerly lifted the centuries old parchment, looking for anything that might be of use to his friend.  The document, written in the hand of Salazar Slytherin, was not encouraging.  He spoke of pure blood superiority and the unmitigated use of dark magic.  Of the cowardice of his colleagues, a dark secret hidden for one of his bloodline and a great threat to those not of pure blood. 

Hellendil could hardly believe what he was reading.  He knew that Hogwarts history was not without its blemishes, that blood purity was a preoccupation of many in house Slytherin and that the house produced more dark wizards than any other, but it was something else entirely to see it written out in the hand of one of the founders.  It had him reeling.  Ominis was right.  They were unlikely to find anything here that could cure Anne of her curse.  Only more dark magic.  He set the parchment down and his stomach churned at the revelation.  He didn't want to see any more of this place.  "Have you found anything yet, Sebastian?"

"I think I have, but I'm going to take the spellbook with me and have a closer look later."

"Good!  Then we can finally get out of this wretched place," Ominis was more than ready to wash his hands of the Scriptorium and everything in it.  "The exit's this way," he indicated and led the way through a hidden passage behind a primitive carved face.  

The trio emerged from a door near the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory.  "Ominis, would you mind taking the spellbook back to the dorm?  Hellendil and I should go to the baths straight away.  That way, if it doesn't work, we should still have plenty of time to get him to the hospital wing."

"Of course," Ominis agreed and reached out his hands to receive the tome.  Sebastian promptly handed it over, and he tucked it under his arm, inside his robe.  "Before we go our separate ways I need you to swear we will not continue this foray into dark magic.  It is not going to help Anne and will likely only serve to make things worse."  

"I understand your concern, Ominis.  I just need to follow this lead.  You want Anne to get better don't you?"

Ominis knew Sebastian was trying to manipulate him into agreeing with him, and paused for a moment to collect his thoughts.  "Of course I want to see Anne well again, Sebastian, but this is not the way.  What good will it do Anne if you get yourself killed, or worse?" 

"Just trust me, Ominis," Sebastian answered noncommittally, placing his hand on his shoulder and staring into his eyes.  Before Ominis had a chance to respond, Sebastian turned to Hellendil, "Let's go before the pain returns.  It's best if no one else has to find out about this."

"Lead the way, Sebastian," he said with a nod. As they moved past their frustrated friend, he patted his shoulder, "See you later, Ominis." 

The pair quickly disappeared up the stairs leaving Ominis behind shaking his head.

"So secret baths, Sebastian?" Hellendil asked, raising a curious brow at him.

"Secret baths," Sebastian echoed.  "Not a lot of people know they exist, and most who do are sixth and seventh years who were told by someone ahead of them."

"So, how did you come to know about them?  Was this another of Ominis' secrets?"  He looked back down the stairs where they'd left their friend. 

Sebastian smirked and spun around to face him, walking backward toward the floo flame at the top of the stairs, "Not Ominis this time.  I happened to be tailing someone when I discovered it.  The why isn't important, but I'd followed him from the clock tower courtyard until he reached the bathrooms.  I was on a mission, so I snuck in behind him, keeping my distance and staying close to the door.  I watched as he entered a stall with an out of service sign, odd, but I waited.  Several minutes passed and there was no sign of him finishing, or doing, his business for that matter, so I got impatient and peeked beneath the stall door and he was nowhere in sight!  It didn't make any sense.  I opened the door to find a passageway behind the privy, which led down into the baths.  I could hardly believe it!"

"What's so special about these baths?  Couldn't we just use the one at the dorms?"

"Oh, you have no idea what you're missing, my friend," Sebastian replied, clapping a hand to the other boy's shoulder.  "Just wait 'til you see it.  We just need to take this floo flame to the clocktower and we're nearly there."

Sebastian wasn't kidding.  After emerging in the clocktower, they crossed a very familiar bridge and, upon entering the building and descending a flight of stairs, turned left down the hall.  Hellendil could see the sign on the door ahead of them.  "Isn't this the haunted lavatory?"

"It is, but that's no problem.  Although, perhaps that's why so few know about it."  Sebastian pushed the door open, trotting ahead to an out of service stall.  "It's this one," he called, then disappeared behind the door.  Hellendil followed, stepping carefully into the dark passage in the back of the stall.  A hall in the passage sloped downward and doubled back.  At the bottom, Sebastian was waiting for him.  "You still doing okay?" he asked as Hellendil came into view.

"Okay, yes, but a little sore and my muscles are still twitching."

"Well, we've made it.  What do you think?"  He stepped away from the entrance, allowing Hellendil full view of the facility.  It was big.  Much bigger than the small stalls and tubs located at the dorms.  A row of cubbies filled on both sides with clean white towels partially blocked a large, heated Roman style bath with benches interspersed around it.  Beyond the bath was the doorway to a shower room.  The sound of running water splashing off of tile alerted them to the presence of another bather, but otherwise the baths were empty.

"This is incredible, Sebastian!  How is it that everyone doesn't know about this?"

"Some of us are good at keeping secrets," Sebastian winked.  Hellendil looked at him incredulously.  "What!?  Look, I've only told Anne, Ominis and now you about it, okay?"

"If you say so, Sebastian," he heckled, but the amusement was wiped from his face as another wave hit him.

"Not good!" Sebastian frowned as he clutched Hellendil's shoulder again. "Let's get you in the bath before Ominis has my head for casting that curse on you."

Hellendil nodded and straightened as the wave subsided.  The two hurriedly moved to the cubbies, selecting towels and undressing before sliding into the inground bath.  It wasn't terribly deep, but deep enough to cover up to their shoulders when sitting on the step down into the water.  The water was quite warm and Hellendil could feel the tension melt away as the heat soothed his strained muscles.  He let out a sigh of relief as he leaned his head back against the edge of the bath and closed his eyes.

"Better already?" Sebastian commented at his friend's relaxed pose.  He sat perpendicular to his companion, and rested his arms on the edge behind him.

"Mmmhm," Hellendil hummed out an answer.  "You were right, Sebastian.  Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet.  It was several minutes between your last two attacks.  We should stay at least a few beyond that to make sure.  I do hope I'm right though.  I really don't want to have to explain all this to Nurse Blainey and Professor Weasley.  And I'll be done for if my uncle finds out," he groaned and looked up at the ceiling.

Hellendil looked over at him, "So you get into these situations often?  Into trouble I mean."

"Not if I can help it.  I try not to get caught anyway.  You should have seen Anne, Ominis and I when she was still healthy.  She might have been the biggest troublemaker of us all!  Now she's holed up at my uncle's all the time because of this damned curse…"  Sebastian's demeanor turned dark as he thought about Anne's condition.  There had to be some way to help her.  He just had to find it.

"I would have liked that.  To have met you all before.  And I truly am sorry about what happened to your sister, Sebastian.  I'll do what I can to help you find an answer.  It's already too late for me to avoid Ranrok and Rookwood's ire, so looking for clues to help Anne can't hurt."

A sad smile brightened Sebastian's face, "Thank you, Hellendil.  It means a lot."

Hellendil smiled back and nodded before sinking into a slouch, allowing the hot water to lull him.  He had no idea just how much tension he had been holding since that eventful first day of the school year.  He knew this place was going to come in handy throughout the year.  

The two of them sat in silence for some time before Sebastian broke it.  "All right, I think that's enough for me.  I'm turning into a prune," he said, stretching out his arms and letting out a groan.

Hellendil chuckled, "I'm sure I am too."  He lifted his hands to take a look at his wrinkled fingertips.

"Are you feeling okay?  I imagine you would have had a spasm by now if it hadn't passed."

"To be honest, I haven't felt this good since before the school year began.  I think I really am good this time."

"Brilliant!  While we're here, we should probably shower before heading back to the dorms."

"Sounds reasonable," Hellendil agreed.  They grabbed their towels and headed to the showers.  Hellendil undid his braid to wash his hair since it was already soaked anyway.  It felt so good to be rid of all the dirt they'd picked up exploring the dusty Scriptorium.  What a day, he thought.  There hadn't been a dull moment since that first day at Hogwarts.  He took pleasure in the quiet moment, running his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and listening to the pitter patter of water splashing off of tile. 

"Oi, you almost done?" Sebastian called from near the doorway when he'd finished. 

Hellendil shut off the water and wrapped one towel around his waist, drying his face with the other.  "I am," he replied, following Sebastian back to the cubbies where they had stashed their clothes.

"I feel much better now," Sebastian commented as he rubbed his hair dry with a towel.  "Wonder what they're serving for dinner tonight."  

Hellendil stopped and watched him.  In fact, he couldn't take his eyes off of him.  While they had been friends since the beginning of term and hung out regularly, dueling or making trips to Hogsmeade for supplies or the odd butterbeer, he'd never really looked that closely at Sebastian.  But standing here with him now, he couldn't help but realize his attraction to him.  "Sebastian, you're beautiful," he breathed without thinking.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him, a confused look on his face.  "Huh?  What are you on about?" he questioned.

Hellendil faltered as he realized what he had done.  A deep fear of losing one of the best friends he'd made here washed over him.  He could feel his cheeks burning and quickly turned away hiding his embarrassment. He released a shaky breath and mumbled, "Forget I said anything." He paused, "But I-I just thought you should know."

Sebastian stared at him.  What did he mean by that!?  He watched him as he absently dried the same spot over and over with his towel, his long hair, freed from the braid, grazing the middle of his back and dripping water down his backside and onto the floor.  When Sebastian realized he was staring, he shook his head and hurriedly dried himself, throwing on his dirty clothes and heading toward the exit where he stopped in his tracks.  He expelled a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.  He couldn't just leave it like this.  He looked back at his companion, unsure what to say.  "I'll see you later, Hellendil."

The words stung as Hellendil tried to come to terms with what had just happened.  He turned his head in Sebastian's direction but couldn't bring himself to look at him.  "See you," came his melancholic reply.  

The tone of his voice struck Sebastian like a graphorn charging right into his chest and he paused another moment before disappearing into the passageway. 

Hellendil couldn't stop the tears from coming as he heard Sebastian's footsteps fade.  His body shook with his quiet sobs.  What is wrong with me, he thought.  Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut?  The dejected Ravenclaw didn't even notice as another classmate entered the room.

"Ah!  Hello there, Hellendil," came the cheery voice of Amit, "Fancy meeting you here!"

Hellendil turned to look at him.  "Hi, Amit," he answered solemnly.

Amit noted the tear streaks reflecting the light on his face coupled with his tone.  "Are you all right?" He asked with concern.

Hellendil snuffed his nose then dried his eyes with the towel.  "Yes.  I'll be okay."

"Let me guess.  Girl troubles?"

"Something like that."

"I am sorry, my friend," he patted his shoulder.  "But you shouldn't worry.  There are plenty of fish in the sea as the saying goes, and you are quite handsome.  You'll find the right one."  He smiled kindly at him before heading over to the cubbies.

"Thanks, Amit," he called after him.  Amit truly was one of the kindest people he'd met since his arrival at the school.  He was glad they were both in Ravenclaw house together.  He sighed and began drying again.  He needed to get back to the dorms and change before heading to dinner.  If he could even bring himself to eat.

—

Since dropping the spellbook off in their dorm room, Ominis had been waiting in the common room for Sebastian to return, pacing by the fireplace.  He hoped he'd made the right decision in allowing Sebastian to take Hellendil to the baths instead of taking him straight to the hospital wing.  When he heard the familiar pattern of Sebastian's footsteps approaching, he turned toward the stairwell and pulled out his wand.  But the footfalls didn't stop when they reached the common room, instead making a beeline to the dorms. Odd, he thought.  He waited a few minutes and when Sebastian did not reappear, he made his way to the dorm.

Sebastian was pacing back and forth and mumbling to himself.  "What did he mean by that?  Beautiful!?  Bloody hell!"  He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.  He hadn't even changed out of his dirty robes yet.  

Ominis heard his pacing even before he reached the room.  When he arrived, he leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, "I'm going to assume our friend does not need to be taken to the hospital wing urgently since you didn't even stop to look for me in the common room." 

"Oh, hello Ominis.  No, the baths worked.  I came back to change, that's all."

"That is not all.  I could hear you pacing all the way down the hall.  What's going on?  Did something else happen?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Sebastian…" his tone was unyielding.

Sebastian looked at him, an agitated look on his face, but Ominis' pale eyes bored into him.  "Fine!"  He threw his arms in the air and pulled Ominis into the room, closing the door behind them before sitting on the edge of his bed.  He wouldn't look at him.  "He told me I'm beautiful!  Who tells a man he's beautiful!?"

"Hellendil apparently." Ominis couldn't help but chuckle, "This is what you're so agitated about?"

"This is why I said I didn't want to talk about it!"

"I'm sorry, Sebastian.  It just seems so trivial in light of everything else we've dealt with today.  So… What did you say to him?" 

"Well, I asked him what he meant and then he told me to forget about it!  That he thought I should know.  How am I supposed to take that!?”  He raised his arms again before throwing himself backward onto the bed.

“Well, I certainly can’t help you with regard to your looks, Sebastian, you’ll have to find someone else for that.  But I’d venture a guess that he can already see you’re a good person and you care deeply.  You care so much that you’re beginning to lose yourself trying to find a cure for Anne.  I’d say giving everything for the sake of a loved one is probably enough for someone to consider you beautiful.”

Sebastian sat back up and gave Ominis a look, “Are you bloody serious right now?”

“Deathly.”

Sebastian grunted and threw himself back again, "I can't believe we're having this conversation."

Ominis chuckled again, "What?  You never thought anyone could find you beautiful?"

"Shut up, Ominis!"

"I'm only trying to help," he couldn't keep the smile out of his voice.  "You're being such a baby about this.  I think he likes you and you're afraid of what happens next.  What if you like him back?"

And there it was.  Laid out plainly for him by his closest friend.  The one person who could read him like a book.  He was fuming, but he knew it was the truth.  He lay there in silence, arm's crossed and staring at a split board in the bunk above his.  Until today, he'd never even considered the possibility of courting another man.  After all, there were plenty of pretty girls in their house alone.  Why would he be interested in another boy?  But the image of Hellendil standing at the baths in just the towel, hair undone and dripping down his back rushed back to him.  He closed his eyes in an attempt to shut it out, to no avail.  He wasn't ready to admit that he found his friend beautiful as well.

His introspection was interrupted by Ominis' voice, "Have I struck a nerve?  I don't think you've ever been this quiet, Sebastian."

He hoisted himself up on his elbows, a disgruntled look on his face.  "You know, none of this really matters anyway.  He's been courting Elvira Dougherty since he bested me in Defense Against the Dark Arts.  I've gotten myself worked up over nothing."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Ominis, she's only one of the most desirable girls in our year.  I could hardly believe he had the audacity to ask her to be his 'study partner' the first day of classes.  Anyway, I'm sure we would know if they stopped seeing each other."

"If you say so Sebastian.  However, he is four years behind on his studies, so it's not surprising he would ask someone to help him catch up on his first day.  You can't blame him for picking someone in his own house either, she's likely not failing any classes and they can use the common room to study after curfew."

"The prettiest girl in school though?  I know you're good at reading people, Ominis, but I can't believe there was no ulterior motive there."

A wicked grin crossed Ominis' face, "Are you jealous he didn't pick you?"

Sebastian glared at him incredulously, "Really, Ominis?  You're being such an imp right now.  Maybe I am a little jealous that he had the nerve to ask her when we've been in class with her for four years already."

"All right, Sebastian.  I'm done teasing.  But you will have to think about all of this and talk to him sooner or later.  He seems a good sort.  You shouldn't avoid him just because of this.  I think he deserves closure.  And honestly, he's the only one who can truly tell you what he meant.  Everything else is just speculation."

A sigh escaped Sebastian's lips, "You're right Ominis.  He's been a friend thus far and he does deserve to know where we stand."  He paused, "I shouldn't have left him like that to be honest, but I really didn't know what to say."

"Then think about it and talk to him tomorrow after charms class.  Simple as that.  Anyway, you ought to change if you plan on it, or we're going to be late for dinner."

Ominis turned to leave, but Sebastian called after him, "Ominis!"  He turned to face him again.  "Thanks."

A soft smile lit his features for a moment and he answered, "That's what friends are for, Sebastian.  I'll wait for you in the common room."  Sebastian returned a smile and nodded, though he knew his friend wouldn't see. 

Ominis continued on his way, closing the door again behind him.

—

Hellendil used the floo network to return to the Ravenclaw common room and hurried back to his dorm, in an attempt to avoid conversation.  He hung his cloak on the coat rack as he entered and began to change, unbuckling the leather cuirass and tossing it over the back of the desk chair.  He sat down on the bed to remove his boots and his thoughts drifted back to Sebastian.  He could no longer hold back the flood of emotions.  As his boots hit the floor, he immediately rolled over, curled up on the bed and wept into his pillow.  

"Sebastian," he murmured, as tears rolled from his shuttered eyes.  Why did I say anything?  Why couldn't I wait until we knew one another better?  Is there something wrong with me?  He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, the knot in the pit of his stomach making him feel sick.  This shouldn't feel like the end of the world, he thought, and yet…  

He didn't understand why it was affecting him so profoundly.  After all, as far as he knew Sebastian hadn't rejected his friendship and nothing had changed beyond him being aware of his attraction to him.  An attraction he'd only just realized himself.  He'd never felt this way regarding another man before.  He'd had crushes on girls both here and at his previous muggle school.  In fact, he'd asked Elvira to be his study partner not only because she seemed a good fit, being intelligent and excellent at dueling, but he thought she was pretty as well and hoped they might become closer.  But there was something different this time.  

Maybe it was the way Sebastian had trusted and opened up to him so quickly.  He didn't have to take him to meet his family in Feldcroft or lay bare his worries about his twin's condition and his uncle's inaction regarding it.  He didn't have to share his knowledge or the secret hideout Ominis had shared with him.  He could have let him take the fall when Peeves discovered them in the restricted section, but he took the punishment as his own.  They'd grown incredibly close in such a short expanse of time.  Sebastian already meant so much to him and he never realized it until today. 

The yellowing rays of the fading sunlight danced across his pillow as he lay there, his damp hair soaking through his tunic and bedding along with his tears.  His stomach growled alerting him to his hunger, but the sickness over Sebastian had not yet passed and he really was not interested in entertaining anyone in the great hall after what had happened anyway.  He shifted into a more comfortable position, his breaths shaky, and silently worked to steady his breathing and calm his mind. 

He opened his eyes when he heard a rap at the door.  The windows were dark and he realized he must have fallen asleep.  He rubbed his eyes and called out, "Yes?"

The door creaked open and the voice of Amit floated over to him, "May I come in?  When I didn't see you at dinner, I decided I would save a pasty for you."  He held up the pastry wrapped within a linen napkin.  "I hope you like them, I thought I recalled seeing you eating them before.  And I can go get you some tea from the common room if you like?"

"Come in, Amit," he replied as he sat up and turned to face him.  He was quite disheveled, hair sticking out and frizzy from air drying without being brushed.  The back of his tunic was damp and made him shiver as cold air seeping through the windows hit him.  He stood and pulled the covers around himself before sitting back on the edge of the bed. "How have I warranted such a thoughtful friend as you?" he wondered, giving him a warm smile.

Amit wandered over to the bed, sitting next to him and handing over the wrapped pasty.  "We Ravenclaws need to stick together, my friend.  You've done much for the benefit of the school and our classmates since arriving here, so why shouldn't we be friends?  I'm sorry about what happened to you earlier.  Would you like to talk about it?  I find talking very helpful, myself."

A sad smile appeared on Hellendil's face, "Thank you for the offer, Amit, you're very kind.  I'm just not ready to talk about it."  He dropped his eyes to the floor.  He'd decided to try being optimistic about the situation.  That maybe Sebastian was as surprised as he was by his admission and needed time to think.  But it didn't mean he was comfortable talking to anyone else about it.

"Well, when you are ready to talk remember that I am here," Amit squeezed his shoulder before getting up to go.  "Would you like me to bring you back tea for your dinner?"

"Thank you, Amit.  I'm fine.  I know where to get it if need be.  Have a nice evening and don't worry about me."

Amit nodded in acknowledgement before continuing on his way, "Take care, my friend."

As the door shut behind Amit, Hellendil ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to push it out of his face and sighed as they caught in knots that needed to be brushed out.  He rose, placing the pasty on the nearby desk while he retrieved his brush.  It was past time for some self care.

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #amit thakkar #hellendil #ocs #sebastian x mc #ravenclaw #hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #angst #pain #trauma #hurt/comfort #let me know if I should tag this with anything else

[inkedrkives]

Lust is Love's Avenger

a short #jikookau where Jeongguk, the god of lust, pines for the one and only god of love, Jimin. problem is, Jimin hates his celestial guts.

"Awe, come on, he was just having a little fun. A bit of winding down." Jeongguk says, fingers trailing down Jimin's bare arm. Jeongguk, the god of lust and desire, sparked another infidelity among mortals.

He doesn't believe in commitment, because why settle when you can have a taste of them all?

Jimin glares at him. "You're disgusting. They're married to other people. You're going to hurt them." Jimin is the god of requited love, the punisher of those who reject the love of others. He stands for true love, commitment.

Jeongguk walks to Jimin's side and drapes an arm over his shoulder. "They don't sound like they're hurting, do they?" Jimin watched through the crystal as another pair took the bait hung by the god of lust, mortals drowning themselves in pleasure and moans.

The god of love gritted his teeth. "Their partners are going to suffer the consequences. They are not the ones making a mistake, yet they're the very people who has to go through the pain of infidelity." Jimin turns away from the crystal. Jeongguk stops him by holding his wrists. "Are you going to run to your Apollo now?" He raises his eyebrow. "Your perfect god of everything?"

"That's none of your business, Jeongguk." Jimin slips form his hold and walks away. Jeongguk follows closely behind him, watching the feather ornaments on Jimin's hair dance with the wind. He sighs.

"You know, Apollo might be a god like us but trust me, he's no better than a mortal. You'll end up getting hurt." Jeongguk rests his hands behind his head as he walked.

Apollo, the god of poetry, music, and art. Jimin admired him since time immemorial. Being the god of love, Jimin craved everything romantic, and Apollo gave him that; gave him all the love he asked for.

But Jeongguk was the god of lust and desire, and he knows better than Jimin, what Apollo was capable of.

"You don't even know him." Jimin looks over his shoulder briefly to meet Jeongguk's eyes. "All you think about is the worst of others, because you feel on what tempts them. You're the god of lust. Apollo is different." He defends.

Jeongguk spins to the front, blocking Jimin's way. He tilts his head before speaking, "Oh, that I am the god of lust is the very reason why I could tell you that he's unfaithful."

Jimin sighs, "Jeongguk, I appreciate your concern, I'm going to assume it's genuine—"

"It is genuine." Jeongguk interrupts. "I'm not only the god of lust, Jimin, i'm also the god of desire. I'm telling you, he yearns for someone else."

Jimin pursed his lips in denial. He had an inkling that Apollo often had rendezvous with Daphne, a naiad nymph, daughter of a river god. However, unlike Jeongguk, Jimin always gave everyone around him the benefit of the doubt (except the god of lust, as it seems), at his own prejudice.

"I want to hear it from him, and until then, save your slander." Jimin says before walking past Jeongguk, who only sighs in defeat.

"If only you know that you yearn for me too." He pauses. "And I the same." He whispers before he hops off the ground to fly away, leaving traces of golden dust behind.

Jeongguk's words played like a broken record in Jimin's mind, and he couldn't brush it off this time. So he decided it was high time to confront Apollo about his affair.

Apollo wasn't happy about it. "How dare you accuse me of an affair when I've showered you with the love you're asking me for?!" He angrily says, impulsively hitting Jimin's cheek. "Don't ever bring Daphne into this." He threatens.

Jeongguk was wandering around Olympus when he spots his favorite god to tease. Jimin was seated by the fountain of youth, with his back facing Jeongguk.

Jeongguk smirks, gliding on air towards Jimin, "There's the lover boy~" He playfully sings, gently landing to sit just a few inches away from the petite god of love. "Trying to get rid of the fine lines love is causing you?" He jokes.

Jimin quickly looks away as soon as Jeongguk was sat, but he was too slow, still. There was silence between the both of them. Jeongguk slowly lifts his right hand, and Jimin flinched at his touch. "I won't hurt you." He whispers, JImin refused to look at him.

Gently, he touches Jimin's chin with his fingers, slowly guiding his face towards him.

The god of lust felt his blood boil at the sight of the bruise on the smaller one's cheek. "Who did this to you?" He whispers, trying to stay calm despite his heart beating against his chest in anger. Jimin looks away again, ashamed to admit that Apollo had hit him.

Jeongguk's jaw clenched. "Was this Apollo's doing?" He sees Jimin's lip trembling, shoulder's moving.

It only took a single golden teardrop to roll down Jimin's cheek for the god of lust to pique. He lifts his hand to gently wipe away the tear, smudging golden streaks on the celestial's skin. "Your precious tears should not be shed for a pathetic god like him." Jeongguk says, yet his face burned in anger at the thought of Apollo laying a hand on Jimin.

Jeongguk stands up, and Jimin immediately held his hand. "I know you hate him, but please don't use me as an excuse to do something stupid." He says.

"You're right, you are not an excuse." Jeongguk says, body moving to face Jimin, "You are the reason, the very reason why I need to teach him a lesson." He paused, meeting Jimin's eyes, "I pine for you, Jimin, the god of love." Jeongguk confesses.

Jimin lets go of Jeongguk's hand, lips parted as he's caught off guard.

"Every single day, I long for you. I desire you.. but you refuse to look at me because you've preempted by entirety, just because I am the god of lust." Jeongguk says in defeat.

"But I will wait for you, even if it takes na eternity for me to prove to you just how badly I want you." He continues. “My first act of proof—vengeance. Whoever lays a finger on you will suffer in my hands.” Without waiting for any response, he flies away in a blink of an eye.

Jeongguk knows he could never beat Apollo when it comes to strength—but he was wiser, he had the leverage. He knows exactly what made Apollo weak: his desire for Daphne.

So, the god of lust and desire nocks two arrows: one of a flame, and the other of rust. The arrow of flames hit Apollo, filling him with insatiable lust for Daphne.

While Daphne, the naiad nymph, was struck with the arrow of rust, filling her with repulsion at the very sight of Apollo.

Now, Apollo will suffer by never getting what he desires. He will live through his immortality experiencing the agony of longing for someone he can never have. The bow and arrow in Jeongguk’s hands disappear into dust.

“What do those arrows do?” Jeongguk turns around upon hearing the velvety voice of the god of love. He turns around with a smirk. “Oh? You’re curious? You’re not going to tell me I’m just going to hurt them?” He has a playful smile on his face now.

JImin shakes his head, “Whatever you did, he deserves it.” Jeongguk laughs, taking Jimin by the waist and pulling him close. “That’s my man.” He teases, biting his lip.

The god of love simply rolls his eyes, gently pushing Jeongguk to create distance between them, but he doesn’t move away from his hold, though. “I’m a god.” Jimin corrects. “My man sounds more cute.” Jeongguk defends.

“Didn’t expect the word ‘cute’ to come out of the lips of the god of lust.” Jimin raises his eyebrow and smiles. Jeongguk shrugs, “I guess you could say you bring out the worst in me.” Jimin glares at him, “Hey! For someone who claimed to ‘pine for me every single day’—” Jimin says, trying his best to imitate Jeongguk’s voice, “—you’re pretty rude!” He pouts.

Jeongguk’s gaze fall on the smaller one’s lips, biting his own to stop himself from smiling widely at how cute Jimin was being. “I know you could bring out the best in me too.” Jeongguk smiles.

Jimin tilts his head, “and what would that be?”

Slowly, the god of desire leans in to whisper in Jimin’s ear, intentionally brushing his lips against it, “My moans.”

Jimin gasps, hand flying to cover Jeongguk’s mouth. “Jeongguk!!!” He exclaims in surprise, cheeks flushing pink. Jimin wiggles out of Jeongguk’s hold and floats away as the latter laughs.

“Come back here, lover boy! I’m just being honest!” The god of desire chuckles, hopping of the ground to fly away with Jimin. “Stop following me!” Jimin playfully complains.

“Second act of proving my love to you—honesty! Don’t you like it?” Jeongguk teases the god of love.

“Aaah! Keep your hands to yourself!”

“I just want to hold your hand!!”

“Jeongguk!!!!”

And they continue to bicker as they flew back to Olympus, their voices getting fainter the farther they were from the ground.

That was how it all started—the romance between the god of love and the god of lust and desire—a beautiful enigma.

#short au #jikook #jikookau #jikook au

[smol-dargon]

Not me posting a fourth chapter because I really wanted to see where this story would go

The air was completely still inside the mausoleum, as if the place were holding its breath. The knight shivered, her chain mail rattling. Her breath was visible in the air. This was not a place for them to linger, clearly.

In the floor ahead of them, several panels in the floor rattled, as if barely containing their occupants. Dan led the way, club at the ready. The knight raised her axe and nodded at him, prepared for whatever might come crawling out of the floors. He bashed the panels in one after the other, sending tiny gremlin creatures scurrying across the chamber. The knight had her hands full corralling and killing them all.

In short order, the room was silent again, save for the sound of their armored steps. One of the panels didn't have anything inside. Rather, it dropped out into a corridor below. With little else to go on, Dan hopped down. The knight followed quickly behind.

Their path was blocked by a stained glass panel. He hated to destroy such art, but he hoped the souls of the recently risen dead would forgive him. He had to pass in order to save the kingdom. The knight was one step ahead of him though; she destroyed the panel without a second thought. In fact, she looked rather upset at it. Beyond the shattered pane, more of the gremlin creatures scurried about, swiftly dispatched by her axe. She took a moment to catch her breath, looking even more distressed at the sight of three more pathways, each blocked by their own stained glass design.

He gave her a bit of a questioning look. It was one thing to be committed to saving Gallowmere. It was quite another to be so hateful towards art.

She heaved a great sigh and rubbed her knuckles as if they ached.

"My father sent me to a convent once for 'misbehaving'. I've hated anything that even smells like a church ever since."

He'd heard of such things happening in other places. Places far removed from his beloved Gallowmere. Women here might not always do the same things men did, but never were they punished for being unusual or unladylike. It explained why she had been so stressed about being discovered, and why she was so aggravated at the mere thought of not being respected as a knight.

"Sounds awful. Sorry."

He hoped even if she couldn't understand his words that his tone at least would carry. To his immense relief, she took a few moments to breathe before steeling herself to continue.

"Let's just get this over with. The sooner we're out of these halls, the better."

He took the lead this time. It was a good thing too. The left path send them down a corridor half blocked by jagged crystals. He smashed their way through a sea of them so she could charge into the room at the end and take care of the creatures within.

With that done, she picked up the rune in the corner. The corridor shuddered. The floor was suddenly very unstable beneath their feet. They both made a mad dash out, barely making it before the floor completely disintegrated. Perhaps that had been a trap. They would have to keep an eye out for other such designs.

The panel across from their original entrance was next. Just beyond it lay the gate the rune opened. Even before she placed the rune, they could hear more chattering creatures past a short drop-off into another chamber. Without waiting for him, she dashed ahead, eager to blow off some steam. By the time he caught up, she'd taken care of them all, then dashed up the stairs in search of more.

He shook his head. She could handle herself. It might do her some good to get the anger out. He noted a gate on the opposite end from the stairs, but without a rune to open it, all he could do was follow the knight back to the upper level.

He had barely left the staircase when he felt a sudden lightness at his hip. His sword was gone! He whipped around to see one of the gremlins tearing off with it. Annoyed, he decided to test something he'd been curious about since waking up again.

He pulled his left arm from its socket and threw it as hard as he could at the creature. It yipped and lost its grip on the sword, but his arm kept going. He groaned, but looked back just in time to see his arm heading straight back for the creature, streaking through the air like a boomerang. It hit the gremlin a second time, more than enough to take it out for good. He was quite pleased with himself!

He wasn't counting on his arm still having momentum when it made it back to him. His own arm backhanded him before clattering to the floor behind him. He was getting really tired of doing cool things and then immediately going back to being ungainly.

The knight reappeared around the corner, surveyed the scene, and couldn't suppress a hearty chuckle. She retrieved his sword from where it had fallen while he fumbled with getting his arm back into place. It was a little easier said than done.

"Uh... help?"

She snorted and held his sword out to him.

"I'll trade you."

She took his detached arm and gave him back the sword. Sheathing it one-handed was tricky, but he managed. After a brief moment surveying his shoulder and arm joints, she fitted them back into the proper places with a satisfying crack. He tested his limb out and made a mental note to never try that again.

"This leads back to the entryway and downstairs. I found the runes we need."

After a short trek through the halls, they were back at the three-way junction facing the final stained glass panel. She destroyed it, this time with a great deal less malice than before. The hall was once again crusted with sharp edges, which Dan helpfully cleared from their path.

She stopped him before he could step fully into the room at the end.

"If this one is booby trapped like the other one, I'm faster. I won't be long."

He retreated back to the junction to wait. Certainly enough, shortly after the sounds of combat faded, the building rumbled and shook. The knight came tearing back up the hall, narrowly throwing herself clear.

"Much easier that way, see?"

He chuckled and turned to continue down the center path once more. Back upstairs, she led him through the main chamber and into a side room. A ghostly organist banged away haphazardly at the keys. He was no musician, but he was pretty sure that wasn't how one played the organ.

The knight pulled a set of papers from her breastplate and offered them to the specter. He happily took them and placed them on the stand before him. After the first few chords, a side door opened, revealing yet another of the strange chalices.

Dan retrieved it and awaited the appearance of Canny Tim. However this time, he was met with another face.

"Ahh Fortesque! What's this I hear about that arch cad Zarok still being alive? Thought you killed the fella?"

Dan grimaced.

"Well, about that--"

"Never mind, you old war-horse, better show 'im what's what, eh? I expect Johnny Zombie's a bit more of a handful than you remember. How are you doing for weapons?"

Dan held his club out for the ghost to see, gesturing with his free hand to the mostly dull broadsword at his hip.

"Here, take my warhammer, it'll smash anything and it won't fall apart like a club. I only ever get to use it cracking walnuts around this place."

He started to refuse, worried he wouldn't be able to handle such a massive weapon.

"Nonsense, Fortesque, I won't take no for an answer. Knock a few heads for old Stanyer Iron Hewer, eh?"

With that, the spirit disappeared, leaving his massive warhammer behind. A bit doubtful, he did try to pick it up. It ended up lighter than he was expecting. He tucked it into place and prepared to continue. When they turned back around, the phantom of the organ had vanished.

At long last, they could open the final gate with the rune she had picked up. Down the hall were shards of glass jutting forth. But a path lay in the middle, just wide enough for a brazier on a pedestal. She scouted ahead and peeked around the corner.

"Aha! The beast's heart! We can set it alight and make killing him that much easier!"

She returned and they began the arduous task of pushing the stone monolith down the thin path between the crystals. It grated down the hall, sparks flying from the friction. Between the two of them, it was short work. At the end of the hall, a massive crystalline heart beat, floating serenely between a pair of statues. They redoubled their efforts and finally shoved the brazier into place beneath it. The heart beat faster in the heat before shattering into countless pieces.

Unlike the other corridors, this one didn't crumble beneath them. They checked over their weapons and armor and headed back up into the main chamber.

The final pane of stained glass bore the image of the demon himself. As they entered, the pane vibrated angrily. Without further warning, it shattered, the stained glass demon bursting forth with a shriek.

Dan charged in ahead of the knight, swinging viciously at the demon. It only took a few hits for him to realize nothing he did was even slowing the thing down. The demon leapt about, aiming to crush them beneath its talons.

The knight stayed well clear of the two of them, her axe stowed into a holster at her back. He wondered for a split second how she intended to help without a weapon. The demon took the opportunity to slam its fist into him, sending him flying across the room and into the wall.

The demon moved to the center of the room, charging an attack with its heart floating free of its chest. He drew the crossbow Canny Tim had given him, but before he could get fully to his feet and take aim, the knight stepped between him and the demon.

She took up a defensive stance. Her arms sparkled with a crackling blue energy, almost like lightning crawling towards her fingers. In the next moment, she let it fly. Twin beams of energy flew through the air towards the demon's heart, causing it a great deal of pain.

He managed to get back on his feet just in time to leap out of the way of a stream of glass shards the demon channeled from its heart. He was startled at the knight's ability to use magic, as it was incredibly uncommon among humans. But he didn't have much time to ruminate on it. Glass shards flew every which way, and he was hard pressed to hold the demon's attention so the knight could reposition.

She let him keep the thing's focus while she charged up another magical attack. The next time its heart came out, it froze Dan in a glass prison from his waist down. His weapon arm was trapped as well. Seeing this, she aimed one beam at the demon and the other at him. It hurt greatly, but it did free him, so he couldn't complain too much.

Between her magic and his crossbow bolts, the demon slowly began to weaken. Its attacks became more harried and frantic, even as it lost the strength to continue its assault. Seeing its tactics failing, it turned its attention to the knight instead. The jagged bits of glass streaked towards her. She raised a hand, creating some sort of barrier that stopped them just before they reached her. He took the opportunity to deal ever more damage to the cracking heart with Canny Tim's crossbow.

With these last few bolts, the heart shattered into pieces. The demon froze, cried out in anguish, and fell to the ground, where it too fell completely to pieces. Amid the pieces, an ornate key with a skull on it lay. He scooped it up and tucked it into his breastplate for safe keeping.

They breathed a collective sigh of relief. At last, they could leave the graveyard proper and take up the chase in earnest. The demon itself had given the. Their exit from the mausoleum, its empty pane leaving an opening from which they could carefully drop back into the graveyard below.

But before they could continue, Dan squared up to the knight properly. He didn't trust magic as far as he could throw it, especially after the mushroom incident. The entire court had done things they regretted that night...

"I have questions."

She nodded, her proud stance faltering under his scrutiny.

"I figured you might... What do you want to know?"

#medievil #sir daniel fortesque #the left handed knight #the errant knights #oop lore reveal #more lore coming next chapter!

[freebooter4ever]

Are the lines on your drawings stylistic choices or are they measurement/guiding lines? Either way, they are cool, but just wondered. I dont understand drawing at all, might as well be a magic spell to me. I was looking at the pencil (?) sketch of Malkin with the cheesecutter hat on.

i, uh, definitely did not google 'cheesecutter hat' until after i saved out these images. :/ sorry about that. if you'd like the other one broken down, i can do that too lol. my reading comprehension when im tired is kinda lazy i just saw 'cheese' and imediately thought 'omelette'. SO here's the 1) initial sketch, 2) 'clean' sketch, and 3) final lines for the omelette boy drawing instead:

also i have had a cumulative of about 9 ish hrs of sleep total for the past two days so keep that in mind for if this explanation makes no sense, its not my fault. :( anyway! the way i draw definitely has changed over the years but currently im really trying to focus on the line i "see" rather than the one that is actually "there". i've been applying this to my writing for years (story vs happening truth) and you know it never occurred to me that i could do it in my drawings too till like...a few years ago. in general these lines seem to form the planes of the subject. if you google 'stanford bunny' you can find an easy example of a 3D surface turned into triangles. I do this too - see things in relative triangle proportions, except i've been doing it long before i knew how computers worked. i cant begin to tell you how long d*sney and cartooning's obsession with round building blocks of anatomical structure fucked with my brain until i finally decided i could cast that teaching aside completely.

ANYWAY sorry off subject again. so we have these sketchy under lines, and usually as im trying to find the proportions and form of the subject these lines end up being where the light/shadow hits. here i saved out the 1) 'flat colors', 2) the 'light', and 3) the 'shadow' parts on their own (i lightened the background for the 'shadow' so its easier to see):

the light is like four or five 'overlay' layers of pale yellow/orange. you can see how each of these layers follow one of those sketchy lines i did initially. and the same with the shadow but instead its a dark red color set to 'multiply' for each layer. and when you combine everything together you get:

some bullshit :). anyway you know that anniversary edition of beauty and the beast that featured the version previewed to nyc audiences in 1990 with the glen ke*ne sketchy keyframe animation of the beast's transformation? i watched that - must have been sometime after i graduated college - and i felt robbed that THAT version was never presented as a final piece. the 'unclean' drawings had so much more life and movement and intensity to them. tldr i like the messy lines, i hate 'inking' with a passion (HATE. IT.), and when i finally allowed myself to stop giving a fuck drawing became way more interesting. but my art is shit and i will never be glen k*ane so i dont really feel like the best advocate for this "style". alas. there was this one artist on tumblr who i fucking loved whose sketches were SPECTACULAR but the asshole racists in the m*c*ha*nz*o fandom bullied her off tumblr and ive never been able to find her art anywhere else since. she was also very negative about her 'unclean' sketches and it made me so sad. there was also this other artist whose sketches were awe inspiring but all she drew was p*rn and well...we all know what happened on tumblr in december 2018.

also i 100% stole the lighting scheme from The Bear which is currently one of the most gorgeous shows on television right now in my opinion

im really really sorry if this makes no sense, if im feeling motivated maybe i'll try again when my brain is fully functioning but with the actual 'cheesecutter hat' doodle ^_^

#thank you #wip #where in the world did that hat get the name cheesecutter from???? #i guess it does look vaguely cheese wedge like #theres such a fine line between different hat forms #like those 1920s styles especially i mean #for some reason i always thought that style was called the *directors* hat #and then the more round and floppy version walt wore in the 1920s was called either newsboy or cabby hat #i searched for a version of walt's hat for YEARS #and didnt end up finding one until i moved to los angeles and stepped into go*rin bros hat shop in old pas #which is actually the same company geno uses for his trucker hat i think #that hat shop sadly closed :( i dont know why #they just sell online now i guess

[flamingredanon]

Art block has hit me, so I am going to ramble about an AU I made. (This might be long so sorry in advance and copied from Twitter because I don't want to retype this)

---

Terrence Suave and Randy Radman loved each other very much, even after Randy's disastrous leadership, Terrence kept by his side and the two supported each other.

But when TRNK rampaged, Randy was thrown off by the feral leader, with Terrence unable to save him.

Terrence, alongside Wilford and others, used their strength to avenge Randy and put down TRNK.

Meanwhile Randy eventually wakes up in a cabin, heavily injured from his fall but alive.

Turns out that a Government rookie with red headphones named Charles Calvin saved him, knowing full well that Randy was a criminal of some kind but still saving his life.

Over the next few months, Charles and Randy get to know each other, each telling stories and just forming a brotherly friendship.

One day as the two were walking in a nearby town, some old enemies of Randy find him, attacking him in a brutal assault.

Charles dove in to help Randy, the two managing to balance out the odds and even get an advantage in battle.

And then a gunshot rang out, and what should of been a bullet meant for Randy, had hit Charles instead.

Randy retreated, carrying Charles in hopes to try to save him.

But it was too late, with Charles' last words, he thanked Randy for being a good friend, giving him his signature red headphones before passing on.

Randy mourned the loss of his friend, burying Charles by a cliff near the ocean.

But Randy knew that if the Government found out that Charles died protecting some criminal against other criminals, that his name would be tarnished.

So Randy cut his long blonde hair before dyeing it brown, donned Charles' old headphones and took on Charles' name and identity.

Back with the Toppats, Terrence is struggling with losing Randy, distracting himself with work and raids.

Wilford decided to step in and help Terrence with the grieving process, helping him move on slowly but in a healthy manner.

And for awhile, things were great for Terrence.

And then Wilford was lost in battle, the Elites making Terrence the leader and Terrence falling back into overworking himself and trying to lead a clan he wasn't ready to do.

Eventually Reginald rose up and dethroned Terrence, knocking him off the Airship and becoming leader.

Terrence eventually wakes up in a random field, not knowing his name or anything about him.

Eventually after awhile of stumbling, a person named Gadget Gabe finds him and starts calling him Henry Stickmin, rambling about an experiment gone wrong and how glad that Henry was fine.

With nothing else to go on and this Gadget Gabe person looking trustworthy, Henry goes back to Gabe's house and explains that there was probably some memory loss, with Gabe telling Henry not to worry that he would help fill in the gaps the best he could.

So for a few years, Henry worked with Gabe as his assistant, dyeing his hair snow white as looking at his jet black hair hurt and made him feel like there was something missing.

Soon Gabe retired and Henry went to try to make it in the world with only his ID on him.

Henry's adventures happen, eventually having Henry join up with the Government and from the moment Henry met Charles, the two clicked, getting along like they had always knew each other, while not knowing that they did really know each other.

Eventually Charles figures out that Henry is actually Terrence with memory loss, feeling awful that he couldn't protect yet another person and vowing to keep Henry safe the best he can.

#rambles #terrence suave #randy radman #rave #henry stickmin #charles calvin #stickvin #amnesia #fake identity #trnk wilford reginald gabe and charles are also here #au idea #death #tw death #murder #mild violence #injuries

[itsmemateinnit]

Whitechapel series 1 press pack

Rupert Penry-Jones is Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler

Rupert Penry-Jones is quick to point out that DI Chandler, his character in Whitechapel, is no hero.

“He doesn’t have all the answers.  He doesn’t know how to fix everything.  He doesn’t kill the bad guy and save London like Adam in Spooks,” explains Rupert.

“He’s a bit less of an action man and a bit more cerebral.  He doesn’t really like the sight of blood.  Chandler is the total opposite to Adam in that way; he finds the whole thing quite scary.

“It was actually really nice to play someone who was not an action man for a change.”

Describing his character Rupert says: “DI Chandler is basically a fast track policeman.  They call them ‘plastics’ in the force.  He is destined for great things at the higher end of the police force but has to go through the ranks and work a little in each of the departments; get his feet wet.

“Whitechapel starts with him being given his first murder case which all concerned think is going to be a simple domestic.  But of course it turns out to be a serial killer. So he ends up on this investigation having to muck in a lot more than he expected and realises he enjoys policing rather more than just sitting behind a desk.

“He is a slightly obsessive, compulsive, asexual guy.  You get no insight into his personal life at all. It is all work with him.”

At first Chandler sits uneasily among his new colleagues; a rough and ready East End station.

But, as Rupert explains, the relationship between him and his men does develop during the series.

“To start with Chandler and Miles, his sergeant played by Phil Davis, absolutely hate each other. For Miles particularly, Chandler is everything he dislikes about the modern police force.  But gradually they find a mutual respect for each other.”

Ripperologist Edward Buchan is another stumbling block between the two officers.

“Chandler likes Buchan from the start.  He respects his ideas and thoughts on the case and they end up being good friends.  Miles thinks he’s an idiot and a liability.”

Rupert says that the prospect of working with Phil Davis again was one of the things that attracted him to the part.

“The first thing that hit me was the script - a real page turner.  I was totally gripped by this modern telling of the Jack the Ripper story.  And I loved the relationship between Chandler and Miles.  Even more so as Phil is an old friend from when we made North Square together, so that was an added bonus.”

Rupert admits he knew very little about the original 19th century Ripper before doing his research.

“To be honest I didn’t even realise he hadn’t been caught,” confesses Rupert.  “I thought they caught the suspect in top hat and tails. I never realised that there was this huge conspiracy story going around.

“I found the research very interesting.  I didn’t realise how gruesome it all was though.  They really were the most awful murders.  He did terrible things to those women, even eating bits of their bodies.  He was the original serial killer.”

Many of Whitechapel’s pivotal scenes were filmed at night.  Rupert recalls: “You can’t get very close to many of the original murder scenes but what was strange was while we were filming these big scenes we would see the actual Ripper tours walking past the sights. It was a bit surreal.”

“The night shoots were extremely gruelling on everybody.  All the London boroughs have different curfews so we would only be allowed to film up to a certain time – some would be 10pm, some midnight and so on.  It meant you couldn’t get a good run at the night shoots and we were always having to change our hours.”

But perhaps the toughest part of the role for Rupert was remembering the dialogue littered with names and dates and locations…

“When I was discussing all the victims I had the art department put up a big storyboard behind me. I used it as a prop to emphasise my speech but also as a prompt for remembering the names of the women who were killed.  I had it all up there behind me to reference if I got lost.

“I find all that line learning rather tiresome but lines are easy to learn if the dialogue is good.  And this was compelling.”

#whitechapel #whitechapel itv #text

[silly-goofy-mood]

This is a LONG one, folks!

UC characters as Parks and Rec quotes!!

Arc 1/7

Hope Lovejoy in arc seven: "I promised myself I was not going to cry tonight, and I’ve already broken that promise five times. But I will not break it a sixth.”

Sir Mister Person:  "I have the most valuable currency in the world: a blind, stubborn belief that I'm 100% right."

SK-73: "when people get too chummy with me, I like to call them by the wrong name to let them know I don't care about them."

Deb at the Sehuagans: "Although I truly hope that I never see you again, I do wish you a long and happy life."

Thavius at the very beginning of arc 1, probably: "I'd wish you good luck, but I believe luck is a concept created by the weak to explain their failures."

Bonus!!

Mister: "Who hasn’t had gay thoughts?"

Arc 2

Ash: "I wanted to make fun of stupid people while I get drunk. My two true passions."

Sasha about Mischka: "When you're in love, everything seems like a sign."

Robyn: "I have a permit." shows paper that says "I can do what I want"

Lyndell: "Girls love it when you can show them you're better than them at something they love."

Bonus!

Richard Lovejoy: "When I bet on horses, I never lose. Why? Because I bet on all the horses."

Gem Lovejoy: "I'm not interested in caring about people." (Sorry not sorry)

Arc 3

Annie Wintersummer: "I just slept seven hours, which is twice as long as I usually sleep. I'm a bit disoriented."

Fey Moss: "I'm not ashamed to say I'm often inspired by myself."

Bombyx: "It’s pointless for a person to paint scenes of nature when they can go outside and stand in it."

Aldrum: "Well, I am not usually one for speeches. So, goodbye."

Diarmad at the post-world-saving party: "Put some alcohol in your mouth to block the words from coming out."

Arc 4

Aster: "Literally everything is a weapon. That folder, in my hands, is far deadlier than that bow of yours."

Quinn: "I don’t want to be overdramatic, but today felt like a hundred years in hell and the absolute worst day of my life."

Ace: "Winning is every kid's dream. But it's my destiny."

Russ: "If I keep my body moving, and my mind occupied at all times, I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair."

Arc 5

Sougle: ”And you can trust me. Because I don’t care enough about you to lie.”

Omen, wearing a flumph hat and holding fifteen eirden plushies: "I am very powerful and feared by many."

Wren, asking Omen and Sougle to do anything: "There’s like a 30% chance they’ll both die."

Onyx: "Dogs should be rewarded for not being people."

Booker, talking about Shi'elle: "She’s the worst person I’ve ever met. I want to travel the world with her." (In TVC, Owen said she joined his crew)

Arc 6

Kipp Tupper: "I have no idea what I'm doing. But I know I'm doing it well."

Remeny in episode two: "What I hear when I'm being yelled at is people caring loudly at me."

SK-69: "I'm like an elephant. I walk into a room, and people are like, okay, he's there."

Beryl: "Never half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing."

Lottie, high on dreamlily: "Windows are the eyes to the house."

Arc 8

Sybilla: "There’s nothing we can’t do if we work hard, never sleep, and shirk from all other responsibilities in our lives."

Penny Lovejoy: "I like saying no. It lowers their enthusiasm."

Nephila Mori: "I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are. Actually, it’s gonna bug me if I don’t."

Helga Hatebad: "I am 100% certain that I am 0% sure of what I’m going to do.”

Sir Up Ton at the end of the arc: "I regret nothing. The end."

Arc 9

Julian in ep 2: "Oh, I have a medical condition, all right. It's called CARING TOO MUCH!"

Juniper, talking to Lacewing, probably: "No, I don't know how I'm going to die… Wait, are you telling me or asking me?"

Serenity: "Fishing relaxes me. It's like yoga, except I still get to kill something."

Art: "Jogging is the worst! I know it keeps you healthy, but god, at what cost!"

Riot: "Aw, you had a crush on me? That's embarassing!"

Valerian: "Riot, we're married."

#unprepared casters #dragons in dungeons #wizards off the coast #lovejoy's four #gonna raise hell #orb is life #lives of the party #the glacerian trail #the king is dead #once upon a crime

[elissespieces]

Okay.

Not to sound old, but-

I have been doing Sailormoon fanart for A Long Time™️ (and to save my sanity here- I’m speaking in internet years)

I’m a Chibimoon fan, and it has never been a popular hill to die on. People hate her, and I don’t care. I get Rini yelled in my face, and I. Do. Not. Care.

But back when I did- I had a 100% wholesome chibimoon dedicated webpage that I html coded myself (in friggen notes) and uploaded to a free FORTUNECITY site. There I displayed a wide variety of chibimoon fanart, mostly mine, but also gathered from other artists I had been desperately hoarding. All of it had been dug for over time (Netscaaaape), then the artists sought out to ask for permission to post, collected into a gallery where I made clickable thumbnails, and finally uploaded it through an ftp-

Dude- There was work involved y’all. This was pre-Pinterest, pre-Instagram, pre anything that posted photos for.

And the webpage was terrible, I can admit that, it’s fine. There was flashy fake glitter stuff, I had a guestbook and counter. Bad art made into page links, irrelevant song and poetry quotes. (But I did not have a midi play!) Most of what I was drawing back then was a weird mishmash of tracing the anime and learning anatomy, so it ain’t great, but everyone starts somewhere.

Still-

There was a lot of it. A LOT. And there still is! I’ve never stopped making it. I still draw sailor moon art all the damn time. It’s my therapy when I’m art blocked, it’s my doodles. I still upload stuff to random places (depending on what lets me) to this day.

I’ve been doing this for 20 years.

My art names have changed, but not drastically, and while thankfully improving, the art style itself isn’t all that different. I’ve been told I’m easy to spot. So yknow what I don’t get??

It’s nowhere. The art isn’t floating around online, I can’t find any of it.

I should be so embarrassed by it. It should be an absolute pain, running facefirst into that awful shit- and with so much regret. I taught myself enough html to do the absolutely ridiculous coordinates of an image map (omg the numbers) but- but it’s not anywhere!

When I haven’t looked at my old crap in awhile, sure, I’m relieved at this fact. Cause yikes (and I still have it stored, it’s good to know how dare I’ve come).

But after days of cruising through 3 hours of really, really awful sailor moon art (yes I do this), I’m kinda, mildly insulted because I should be one of those. I should be standing accounted amongst those who are shamed!

I recognize so many of the old artists that I once knew, and most of them have been plagiarized to death on overseas websites because they aren’t really around anymore. If anyone else was around at that time and into Sailor Moon, I had a very pink and very goofy ‘Child of the Crystal World’ website. It was all I knew about my Pink fucking Princess on about thirty separate page clicks.

So- best guess is- either someone is following behind me and cleaning up my online fingerprint- or (most likely) Im feeling ignored and entitled from years worth of effort and it’s gurgling back up like a clogged, invalidating garbage disposal of paint and crayons.

#sailor moon #sailor moon fanart #sailor moon fanartist #fanartist #art #fanart #rant #soapbox #annoyed for no reason #chibiusa #sailor chibimoon #princess lady serenity #kishokahime #captainlaserbeam #4leftturns #Elissespieces #child of the Crystal world #fortune city #my art #myart

[sundaybee]

Chance Encounters (Pepa x Fem!Reader) Pt 6

Based on the prompt: “From behind I thought that you were my relative, which is why I tapped you on your shoulder, but honestly you’re much hotter.”

Pt 6 of 8

Pt 7

I’m thinking the reader and triplets are in their early twenties. Somewhere between 20-23.

As always I am not a native Spanish speaker, so if I butchered a sentence or word let me know so I may correct it.

Hope you enjoy!

The following few days Pepa eased her load but was dutiful. Alma didn’t seem to mind as long as everything was completed to her standard. You, Bruno, and Julieta did your best to aid the girl but often all of you were pulled in separate directions for other work. 

That night you were sitting in the room casita had conjured for you, gnawing on your pencil as you balled up another piece of paper and tossed it on the ground. Casitas tiles tossing it into the waste basket across the room.

“Art block?” You peered over your shoulder to see Bruno hovering at your door. 

“No. Trying to figure out how much of my savings I can put towards new art supplies.” You said and turned back to your paper. 

Your commission work was your livelihood. Each day that passed you were forced to turn down work for lack of materials. You were no longer needed at the work site as they had leveled the rest of the house and had begun the rebuild so now you spent your days helping Pepa. 

You loved spending time with her. Learning more about her and falling for her a little more each day, but you really needed to figure out how to get your studio back up and running before you moved back home. You had enough for some basic things but most of your money and the money your parents had sent went towards the rebuild. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Bruno asked. He had entered the room and sat on the bed while you balled up another paper. 

“No. I think unfortunately I will need to find less creative ways to earn money.” You said and sighed. 

The idea of working in a boring shop dealing with boring tasks and boring people depressed you. You were meant to create, but if this was what you needed to do until you could replenish your supplies so be it. 

Pepa stood besides your door, pressed against the wall listening in on the conversation. She felt awful that she has caused such destruction in your life. She had to make it better.

——

You frowned, tying the dull apron around your waist and stood at the counter of your new workplace. You had been hired immediately at the local coffee shop and you hated every moment that passed. You’d been working there for two weeks already and it hadn’t been going great. 

“Do it for the supplies.” You muttered as you made the first customer to enter a coffee. 

“Hola Y/N.” Pepa said as she entered the shop with Bruno. 

Pepa had been brainstorming ways to get you enough money to replenish your supplies. She still felt awful about destroying them in the first place but watching you miserable in this shop was even worse.

“Hola.” You said softly as you finished the task and passed the coffee to the woman.

“This is awful!” The woman shrieked as the coffee touched her lips. She dropped the cup and it shattered. 

“Lo siento.” You said, very monotone. 

Pepa frowned at both the woman’s reaction and yours. She had noticed since you started working there you’ve been withdrawn. She no longer saw you at meals and instead you chose to stay in your room all the time. She’d heard you crying every so often at the thought of coming back here every day and it broke her heart. 

“That’s all you can say? I deserve a refund!” The woman yelled in your face.

You flinched. It was subtle and your expression never changed but Pepa noticed it and her chest swelled with anger.

“Hey! You can’t speak to her like that!” Pepa shouted and got between you and the woman. You blushed a little as Pepa blocked you from view. 

“The woman who ruined the town would defend the one who ruined my coffee.” The woman spat. Pepa wasn’t prepared for that comment and blinked in surprise. 

Your face immediately twisted into something furious. For the first time in two weeks you felt something other than extreme exhaustion and sadness. You walked around the counter and got right into the woman’s face.

Pepa’s jaw dropped as she witnessed you cuss the woman out and banish her from the shop. She huffed and puffed but left cursing your name. 

“Are you okay?” You asked Pepa.

“I should be asking you that.” 

“I’m fine.” You said and turned from her. You didn’t want her to look too closely at your face and read your lie. 

“You don’t need to keep working here.” Pepa said and moved closer to you. 

“I do. I can’t make art without supplies. I can’t get supplies without money. So until I can buy enough to at least get my studio back up and running I’m stuck here.” You sighed as you bent down to pick up the shattered shards of the mug.

“Y/N!” 

You turned to face the owner of the shop who wore a very conflicted look on her face. 

“Can I speak to you por favor?” 

You nodded and cast the two triplets a glance before vanishing into the back with the woman. Moments passed before you returned, untying the dull apron and tossing it onto the counter. 

“Y/N?” Pepa began.

“Let’s go.” You said walking past both of them.

“What about your shift?” Bruno asked cautiously.

“Don’t worry about it.” You said and gripped the small bag in your hand tightly. 

The two triplets shared a look before following you out into the morning air. The walk was quiet, neither sibling knowing what to say. It didn’t matter in the end because the three of you reached your desired destination quickly.

“Ah Señorita Y/L/N! It is so good to see you!” A booming voice said. The three of you were greeted by Señor Manuel, the local art supply dealer. 

“Hola. It’s good to be here.” You said, showing something resembling a smile for the first time in two weeks.

“I hope you’ll be able to start up your commissions again. The customers have been asking about you.”

“Ahh, I’m not sure.” You said and glanced around the store. “But I can afford some things now.”

“Look around and see what you can get.” He said and returned his attention to his previous task.

Pepa and Bruno watched as you moved around the store collecting things. Your expression was serious as you examined each item you grabbed before putting it back or deciding on it.

“These will do.” You said and tossed the coin bag on the counter. Two weeks worth of wages resided in the bag and while it was a start it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Let anyone who asks that I can do mini portraits or landscapes.” You said as the man rang up your purchase. They weren’t as popular and they wouldn’t bring in a lot of money but at least it was a start.

“I certainly will Señorita.”

“Gracias. Adios.” You said and led your two friends out of the shop. 

“Y/N were you let go?” Pepa asked carefully. Your pace slowed for a moment before you picked back up to stay slightly ahead of the two.

“It’s for the best. I hated that place. At least I was paid for the two weeks I was there and could get this.” You said, gripping the bag with your new supplies close to your chest.

Pepa and Bruno exchanged a look and followed you back to casita.

#pepa madrigal #pepa x reader #pepa x fem reader #Pepa Madrigal x Reader #reader insert #Encanto #Chance Encounters