#(i went to the art supply store and got an easel and some new paint to celebrate since i can actually paint in there now) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slasherhaven · 4 years

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Hi, sweetheart! I just found your blog and i think your writings are wonderful. I think you are very talented about writing. Can i request a headcanon for Michael, Brahms and Billy's reaction to an artist reader who bought their house and use it as a studio and living space. They almost don't go outside. They fiiled a room with canvases and paint tubes but their art is... Let's say it may cause a trauma if someone sees them. Like full of blood and massacre images. And they started to like her.💖

These got pretty long so they’re under the cut 😂

Michael, Brahms, and Billy. His future s/o buys his house, using it as a living space and a studio for their very macabre art:

Michael Myers

The house had been up for sale for a long time but had no buyers. Nobody wanted to buy the house where the infamous Michael Myers grew up and committed his first murder. So, it remained empty.

Which was great for Michael because it meant that it was somewhere he could hideout. After all, even he needed to eat and sleep from time to time.

But then, by some miracle, somebody bought it. It had been the cause of some surprise and gossip among the rest of the town.

You were new to the town but had been informed of the history of the house, they had to disclose that information after all. They expected you to withdraw your interested but you took it with little hesitation. Maybe it had been your interest in the macabre.

Michael wasn’t happy about this.

No only would somebody being living in his home but he now wouldn’t be able to use the space.

But he was curious, even if his plan was to just kill you and take back his home.

So he watched you.

He actually watched you for some time.

You seemed to be doing a lot of decorating, storing old furniture and bringing in your own. But at least you weren’t throwing it away...

He got as close as he could without alerting you to his presence and ever watching gaze.

He wanted to explore the house some more, see how you had changed it, but you barely ever left.

Finally, you had to leave to do some grocery shopping.

And Michael took the opportunity to explore.

Most of the house had actually been left alone, the old furniture that was still usable was where it belonged, just cleaner. But you had added your own belongings.

It seemed that you had turned the living room, the largest and brightest of the rooms, into an art studio. Your easels, canvas, sketchbooks, pencils, paints, anything else you liked to used, scattered around the room in an organised chaos.

As Michael moved around the house he would find more of your works he would find.

Normally Michael didn’t care about the hobbies of his victims, or of anyone for that matter, but this was interesting.

All of your paintings were...morbid, for the lack of a better word.

All your works seemed to portray blood and gore, massacres and death, violence and chaos. All the things that normally made people uncomfortable, you used it in your art.

Now Michael was genuinely curious about you.

He even found himself picking up one of your sketchbooks and flipping through it, curious about the rest of your work. It all had similar themes.

Placing the book down, Michael slipped back out of the house only moments before you returned.

He started to watch you more, wondering about you.

Why did these things interest you? Did you find some sort of positive emotion from them or are you interested in how uncomfortable they make people? Is there a sick part of you that is just fascinated by it? How much real life experience do you have with the macabre?

How would you react to real gore? If you were to be presented with one of the scenes you painted but in the flesh? Would you run or would you be just as interested?

Perhaps what he was starting to ask himself was...how would you react to him?

You must have known who he was and what he’s done, since the information had been disclosed when you bought the house. Was he part of the reason you purchased the house in the first place?

He just couldn’t help but wonder about you.

There was still so much to learn, so he would just watch you for a little longer.

Slowly getting closer to you, getting more confident with his ‘visits’. He’d be in the living room while you slept upstairs, looking at your latest works.

You had started to notices that various painting and sketches where getting moved around. At first you thought you were just misplacing things, maybe you needed to take a break, but now you were starting to think that something else was going on.

You were living in the Myers house, the house where the Shadow of Haddonfield once lived. You couldn’t help but let it effect your work, some pieces being inspired by Michael Myers himself. You just couldn’t help it.

You knew it was insensitive considering the tragedy he had brought to the town but nobody had to see them, these pieces were just for you.

Those pieces also happened to be Michael’s favourites, one might have even gone ‘missing’.

These were even more interesting to Michael, that you had taken inspiration from him for your art.

You’re just so...interesting.

Yes, Michael is starting to like you. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that you bought and moved into his house.

Perhaps he’d have to let you meet the inspiration for these newest pieces sometimes.

Hopefully you won’t react so bad that he’ll have to kill you, that would be a real shame.

Brahms Heelshire

The thought of somebody actually buying his house infuriated Brahms but he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Maybe he could just dispose of you and make it look like a home invasion?

This was his home after all.

Yes, it might have been getting boring up in the house all alone but it was better than having strangers live there. People he didn’t know or trust.

But it was only one person, only you, so it wasn’t the end of the world even if it was starting to feel like it.

When you arrived, you moved your stuff in but didn’t move anything out. Which Brahms silently appreciated.

You actually seemed fond of the furniture that was already in the house, just cleaning it up properly instead of getting rid of it.

The first week consisted of you getting settled and Brahms just watching.

You moved your belongings in, claiming the largest bedroom as your own and personalising it some more.

Alright...he could live with that.

You had stepped into the child’s room and frowned to yourself. You knew the past of the house, it had been disclosed when you bought it (it had also been the reason you got such a good deal), and it just felt wrong to disturb the room.

For now you would leave it, and Brahms was happy about that. Maybe you wouldn’t be so bad, you would at least keep the house clean...so...you’re alright for now.

But then you started moving around the furniture in the living room. It was the largest, brightest, and most open space, and you thought it would be perfect for your studio.

Brahms didn’t like the changes you were making.

You still weren’t getting rid of anything, just moving it out of the way to give you more space and to make sure you didn’t stain any of it.

Then you set up your art supplies, even having some time that evening to continue with a painting you had started just before moving in.

That night, after you went to sleep, Brahms crept out of the walls to investigate some more.

He moved around the lounge quietly, examining the new stuff you had brought in.

It was all art stuff. You were an artist...well, at least that is interesting.

But as Brahms examined the piece he had seen you working on that evening, he realised that maybe it wasn’t quite the type of painting he had expected.

It was all just so...morbid...

Gore and blood, death and destruction. It made him cringe a little.

But you were very talented...he had to admit that.

He spent all night going through your art, finding that they all had similar themes. All morbid.

He couldn’t help but wonder why...what about all this awful stuff interested you and kept inspiring you?

It was supposed to make people uncomfortable but apparently not you, you welcomed it in your art. How very intriguing.

He started watching you for a different reason after that. His cautiousness turning into curiosity.

You didn’t seem...bad.

You didn’t seem like you would enjoy that stuff.

In fact, he often saw you smiling softly to yourself, sometimes even humming.

You hadn’t touched his childhood bedroom because you had felt empathy for the family and their past.

You had been polite and kind to the men who helped you move your belongings.

And he admittedly thought it was cute when you would get a smudge of paint on your cheek without noticing.

How could somebody who seemed so sweet and so normal, create such morbid art?

He supposed it was a little interesting though.

He’d keep you around for a while...just to learn more, that’s all.

He noticed that you kept the portrait of himself and his parents up. He didn’t know why. Maybe you respected the art, maybe you respected the family that once owned the house and didn’t take it down for the same reason you left his bedroom untouched.

Either way, he appreciated it. And it made him all the more confused as to why your art focused on such dark subjects.

You’d been living there for a few months now.

You noticed some weird things happening. Things moving around or going missing, mostly your belongings or smaller pieces of art.

Some items would show back up out of nowhere, making you even more curious as too where they had disappeared too.

Brahms continued to watch you, liking you much more than he did when you first arrived.

He saw how you were confused by the occurrences around the house but you didn’t seem scared and you never ran away.

That was a good sign.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be too much longer before he let you know that you actually had a housemate this whole time.

Billy Lenz

Once again, of course you know the history of the house. At least you knew that it used to be a sorority house, where numerous young women were murdered.

And yet you still bought the house, perhaps against your better judgement.

Billy actually isn’t that mad about somebody buying the house. It’s just the next person he can mess with.

Would probably be more annoyed if a family were to move into the house but it’s just you so he’ll be fine.

He sees you a soon as you step through the door, deciding that he found you attractive and deciding that this was going to be fun.

It could get lonely being all alone in the house all day.

It was nice to have a new face around.

He decided to let you settle in before making his first phone call. He would learn about you secretly before making that call, that would be best.

He didn’t want to scare you too soon and make you run away.

You took about a week to move in your belongings, clean the house and make it your own.

You found the largest, most open room that let in the most natural light and made that your studio. Spending most of your attention on that task, setting it up just as you wanted it.

Billy had perked up a little when he realised that you were an artist. At least you should be entertaining!

The house was already looking better than it had for a while. He was almost impressed.

He liked watching you paint, even if he couldn’t see what you were painting from this angle. You looked so calm when you painted and that calmed him to some extent.

One night, when you were sleeping, Billy crept down into your studio and got himself a closer look.

Your art was definitely...shocking.

From how nice you had seemed over the last week, Billy hadn’t expected your art to be so dark and morbid.

Don’t people usually paint flowers or fruit or something? Well...this certainly isn’t flowers or fruits.

And Billy didn’t know how to react.

But he did spend the night looking through your work, eventually falling asleep in your studio and having to hurry up to the attic once the sun started to rise before you woke up and found him.

He spent the whole day watching you, just learning more about you.

He decided to put off making the first phone call because now he was even more curious about you.

Eventually that call came though.

The phone rang and you answered it, only to be met by the sound of somebody moving around. You couldn’t really make it out the sounds.

But then you managed to make out a few actual sounds. There was a voice but you couldn’t really make out what he was saying and then...was that a moan?

You just told him he got the wrong number before hanging up.

Over the next few weeks you received some more calls. Just some perv, nothing to worry about too much.

But then you got a call from the same perv, you were used to it by now. You just carried on painting as you listened to his mostly unintelligible ranting.

You froze with his question, the only clear thing you could make out fully. “Why do you paint that stuff?” but he hung up before you could answer.

So...this man could see you?

You were suddenly reminded of the smaller sketches you did that had randomly gone missing. Had this man taken it?

You remembered him muttering the name “Billy” once or twice so you took it that was his name.

So you dedicated a piece to him, leaving it on the easel that night for him to see.

The next morning you headed down stairs to find it missing, meaning that he had accepted your gift.

You were interested in the man who had been watching you.

And Billy was even more interested in you.

It was a large house for one person but you tried to explore every inch of it, finally getting to the attic that you had been avoiding. You just though it would be dusty and neglected but you wondered if you could find anything interesting up there.

It didn’t take much looking around before you came across a pile of blankets and pillows, beside them a phone and the painted you had gifted your stalker.

Then it hit you.

This is where the man on the phone, Billy, had been staying and calling from. He had been in the house the whole time, hiding in the attic during the day.

Just as you were processing this realisation, you heard a door close downstairs.

Guess it’s time to meet the man behind all those creepy phone calls. Maybe another gift would encourage him to take mercy on you?

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms x reader #billy lenz x reader #Billy Lenz #slashers x reader #slashers #slasher #my writing

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ahockeywrites · 3 years

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Is that a drawing of me?

You sighed. Your professor set you an assignment to draw something that makes you smile. His suggestions included a pet, a sport or a loved one. Naturally, the first thing that came to your head was your boyfriend, the resident pest of Calgary, Matthew Tkachuk. The only problem you had, is that drawing faces was your weakness when it came to your artwork. It wasn’t that you couldn’t draw faces, if it was a life or death situation, yes, you could draw a face. However, when compared to your nature drawings, they were second best.

“So, are we gonna get a drawing of Mr Hockey hotshot this time?” your friend Anna asked. You looked at her with a look only she could read. Realistically, the answer should have easily been yes, but your worry of making him look bad was heightening your anxiety.

“It’s an idea, but you know how I was in our portraits module. How can I do the man I love justice when I can barely draw someone with straight hair,” you said as you slumped into the chair in the small coffee shop. “His curls will be the death of me.” Taking a small sip of your coffee, you noticed a text from the devil himself.

Matty: Hey baby, just wanted to let you know I’m back from practice now! Let me know what you want to do for dinner :) x

You: Urm… I’m good for anything? Something quick bc I’ve got college work to do x

Anna could tell that you were talking to Matt, solely by the way that your face lit up whenever you two spoke. “But, who or what else would you draw? I mean, I’m planning on doing my family by the lake back home, if that helps?” Anna offered. You knew she was just trying to help, but you had to draw Matthew. You had skirted around it before but you had decided.

“I’m gonna draw him, but hopefully not too well,” you said, “I can’t inflate his ego any more. I think Brady and Taryn would want words with me.” The two of you giggled, knowing that anything that made him look too good in his eyes would just make his head grow 20 sizes.

“Yes my love!!” Anna exclaimed, “shall we stop by the art store before art history?”

“I think I’m gonna need to,” you explained, “I need some new canvases and a lot of red pencils if he’s gonna be in Calgary gear.”

The two of you left the coffee shop for the nearby warehouse full of art supplies. It was just off campus and offered a generous student discount to almost anyone. You wandered down by the canvases, trying to figure out which size would be right for your latest piece. Too small and the picture would look cramped, too large and the image could look out of proportion. Eventually, you settled on a relatively large one and by this time had picked up some very Calgary appropriate red and black pencils. You also spotted a scrapbook that looked perfect to start filling with photos of you and Matthew.

Scrapbooking was something you had always wanted to get into, but it never came up in your studies and you always thought that you should practice line art or painting. But with your second anniversary coming up, it was something you could do in your downtime to relax but also create something beautiful. All you had to do was get a few rolls of washi tape and some photo corners. Everything else, if you had forgotten it, could easily be ordered later.

2 hours and $150 later, you exited the store with Anna and headed to your final lecture of the day. Now, just because you enjoyed both art and history did not mean that you enjoyed the combination of the two. Especially when the professor decided that it would be fun to set a 2000 word essay on the Renaissance period. “I cannot wait for this day to be over,” Anna spoke aimlessly.

“Honestly, same, hopefully Matt has got some food ready for when I’m back,” you hoped, no, prayed to someone above that he had actually made something and hadn’t burnt down your apartment. “I’m gonna head off now, but text me updates of your portrait?” you asked Anna. She nodded and you started your short walk from campus to the apartment.

15 minutes later, you arrived home and tumbled through the door. The smell of something baked filled your nostrils. “Matty baby?” you called out, hoping he would hear you and give you a hand with all the supplies you had bought.

“Y/N!” he called, coming to the hallway. “Need a hand?” he asked, but the two of you knew it was rhetorical. You let out a small giggle and gave him two of the bags you had filled to the brim with scrapbooking items. Now, you could have hidden them from him, but it was likely that he wouldn’t even know what they were so you were safe. The two of you moved in sync to the office of the apartment which very quickly had become your own personal studio with an easel and multiple chests of drawers with the most random supplies in them.

“Just pop them down anywhere, I have a drawing I want to start tonight along with an essay,” you complained.

“Don’t you worry, I have wine and lasagne,” Matthew sang. You audibly groaned at the sound of food, all you wanted was a warm meal and to relax. At least you’d be able to get one of them tonight.

You two sat down at the island that graced the kitchen of the apartment. Matthew had set the table and even put a few candles out, “I thought you could do with an hour or so of doing nothing,” he spoke as he went to grab your hand. He rubbed soft circles over your knuckles as you picked up your wine glass with your other hand.

As you took your first bite of the lasagne, you sent your boyfriend a wink. Lasagne was one of the few things he could cook and not mess up and he knew that. “I am so glad that I have a small amount of time before I start my drawing tonight,” you explained.

“What are you drawing?” Matt asked as he lifted his wine glass to his lips.

“That is something I would rather not share just now, but you’ll find out later,” you winked. You were never particularly secretive when it came to your artwork so he was slightly confused but he went along with it. Maybe, he thought, it was going to be a gift for someone and you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise.

The two of you continued to chat over dinner, talking about practice and how boring your lectures were. The boy sitting across from you never failed to make you laugh and you knew that you couldn’t draw anyone else other than him. As he was talking, you allowed yourself to take in his features and you tried to think of the best way to draw them. “If you’re done staring, I’m gonna sort the dishes out,” Matt laughed. You hadn’t even realised you were looking so intently at him. “I know I’m beautiful,” he got out before you tried to tackle him to the ground, however, your strength was nothing compared to his.

“I think this means it’s time for me to go and get started with my assignment,” you giggled from underneath him. “Come grab me if I’m still working and should be asleep, yeah?” you asked. He nodded and let you head to the office.

Once seated in the office, you pulled out your laptop and google searched Matt’s name, hoping some good images of him came up. Or at least, some that you could try to emulate. You found one of him smiling and celebrating a goal and thought that would be perfect. It also meant that the majority of his curls were underneath a helmet so wouldn’t have to worry.

Grabbing the canvas you had specifically bought for this, you placed it on the easel. You began to sketch out the rough shape of a skater in the foreground. Then, you moved onto the face. You thought if you did the face early on, you could fix any mistakes with it once the rest of the image was done. Starting with the eyes, then the nose and mouth, this wasn’t going as badly as you thought it might have gone. But then, the dreaded curls were staring at you from underneath the helmet. Sighing, you knew that if you didn’t start them now, they would never be done and a bald Matthew was something you never wanted to see.

A knock on the office door startled you, “baby, it’s almost midnight. You have an 8am lecture tomorrow and don’t want you to be late,” Matt said in a soft voice.

“Yeah, just gimme a few minutes,” you replied. By this time you had moved onto the logo on his shirt and if anyone saw, it would be incredibly obvious who you were drawing. Curly hair, Calgary Flames player, number 19, with an A on his chest. You were so engrossed in the drawing, you hadn’t noticed Matthew open the door and walk to be behind you.

“Is that a drawing of me?” he asked. You jumped out of your skin and he had to put his hand on your shoulder to stable you. You meekly nodded and looked up to him. “It’s amazing,” he said as he took in the drawing. Suddenly, he put two and two together, “this is why you wouldn’t tell me what you were doing, eh?”

“Maybe,” you said softly, trying to hide yourself in his chest. “Didn’t want to inflate your ego anymore.”

“Baby, if every drawing you do of me is this good,” he said as he pressed his forehead to yours, “my family better make an entire room back in St. Louis for my ego.” You slowly pressed your lips to his as a sign of appreciation.

“I take it you like it then?”

“Like is the wrong word, I love it. I also can’t wait to send a picture of this to the family group chat to get their thoughts,” he laughed.

“Well, as long as your mom doesn’t want me to do another one, I think I’ll be okay,” you said as you kissed him again.

#ahockeywrites #Matthew Tkachuk #flames19 #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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musictrash0426 · 3 years

Text

Killing Stalking

My name is Elizabeth Stevens, I’m 17 and it is one month until my senior year of highschool. Most of my friends are going crazy trying to plan out their futures. However, unlike my peers, I've known what I've wanted to be since I was 13. I want to be an artist, my parents fully support my decision which is nice. They have bought me plenty of professional quality supplies since my 14th birthday when they saw all the hard work I put into my art. I've even started selling prints of my work on Redbubble. I also have quite the following

Overall I live in a pretty good neighbourhood. It has great people, including my best friend Kai who lives a few streets over. My family and I live in a pretty large house. It has three floors which is a little big if you ask me. There are only the three of us living here, me, mom and dad. But with that being said my parents gave me the entire basement on my 13th birthday. They also helped me set up every room down here the way I want. Not much has changed, even after being down here for four years..

When you come down the stairs you are greeted with my lounge area. Where we have a couch, tv, game system, large bookshelf and some other things. Next we have my room where I have a fairly minimal look. I have a large bed, large dresser, a walk in closet, and my vanity where I do my makeup. The next room is probably my favourite; it's my art studio. Like I said my parents have supported me over the years so I have a lot of supplies. Honestly I couldn't be more grateful for them and everything they’ve given me. I have a full easel, desk, and a lot of supplies, markers, colour pencils, paint (water, acrylic, oils), alongside my new drawing tablet.

This morning when I got up, I went to my art room and started sketching. I've gotten into this habit as it helps me get into a creative mindset, along with getting into drawing for the day. Once I stop doodling I start to make a list of the things of supplies I had recently run out of.

As I was about to leave, I asked my parents if they needed anything. My mom told me to get her a drink from Starbucks on my way home as she knows I’m planning on going there anyways.

I get into my car and drive to the art store. Luckily this store is only 10 minutes from my house. I walk into the store and look for the supplies on my list. While going through the store, grabbing the things I needed, I decided I also wanted to try out a new paint while I was here. I got some winsor and newton acrylics in red, blue,yellow, sienna, black and white along with some mixing pallets. I also got a canvas as I want to make a large painting later.

My mom texted me asking if I could pick up milk and eggs. So I ran into the supermarket and picked up the few things she wanted. I then went to starbucks, got both my parents, and myself a few drinks, and went home.

I got out of my car balancing shopping bags on my arm,the drinks in my hand and I went inside. I put the milk and eggs in the fridge, gave my parents their drinks and made my way down to my art room to put my supplies away. I started brainstorming ideas of what I want to paint and I finally came up with a concept I liked. I open my sketchbook and I start to draw the rough copy of the picture before blowing it up on the canvas and painting it. While I am drawing out the picture I'm watching lavendertowne’s creepypastas series as it's one of my favourites on youtube.

In my concentration, I lose track of time, and before I know it it’s 4:30 pm. My mom walks to my art room saying her and dad are going on a trip for the next week. So I get the house to myself, which is cool. I've been home alone before. “Elle, you can have Kai over to stay for the week if you want.” mom said. “Also I transferred some money into your account so you and Kai can just order some food if you guys get hungry.”

“Thanks mom,” I say “ I love you.”

“Love you too sweetie.”

I walk upstairs with mom as her and dad are about to leave. I hug them goodbye and tell them to have a safe trip.

I decide to take mom up with her offer and invite Kai over for the week. Lately I haven't been wanting to be home alone. So I called him and he said he’d be over in 10 minutes.

I grab a glass of water and wait, before I knew it there was a knock on my door and it was Kai. I give him a hug and he smiles.

“It’s like we haven't seen each other in a while.” Kai teases me. We saw each other yesterday and I called him late last night because I just wanted to talk to someone.

Kai has literally been my best friend since we were both in diapers. Our moms grew up together so it was bound to happen that we would too. He’s my biggest support system, he’s one of the only people who know how I got into art. I watched a lot of anime growing up, I still do, and the art style is what got me into wanting to be an artist.

“Have you started a new piece yet?” Kai asked

“Yeah I have! And I just finished the rough copy” I say.

“Can I watch you work on it?”

“Of course you can silly,” I say with a grin. I show Kai the canvas to let him gauge what I’ve been working on.

“It looks really good!” But his face saddens a little bit. “Are you doing alright?” I give him a confused look. “You tend to draw horror pieces when you're trying to get yourself into a better place.”

Horror pieces are my favourite to draw. I don't have an explanation for it, but I've always liked them. Maybe it's because I loved horror shows growing up but who knows. I look back at all my works and Kai’s right. I tend to do these pictures more when I'm not the best headspace.

“You really know me, at this point it's mostly subconscious” I laugh “I was also watching creepypasta videos so the idea could have come from that. Anyways, what do you think about it so far?”

“I love it of course!” Kai says

I work on transferring it onto the canvas and after about 2 hours the pencil sketch is laid out. Once that's done we decide to go to the movies. We went and saw whatever Kai wanted to see. He picked some rom com which I wasn't mad at as I enjoy these types of movies.

After the movie we went to a sushi place for dinner. I wasn't that hungry so I got the rest of mine to go. Then we went to the supermarket to get some candy and pop for tonight. We decided that we were going to stay up quite a bit of the night so I can work on my artwork and we can just talk about life and stuff. We pull into the parking lot and head inside. This store is open 24/7 so we have plenty of time to get our stuff, but still it is 11:30pm and something makes the air feel very eerie tonight.

After walking around the store Kai and I look at eachother and we both feel like something is off because this uneasy feeling Kai and I hurry up and grab what we wanted. Kai and I decided to pick up Sour Patch Kids, gummy bears and some chips. We then went into the drink aisle where I picked out Dr. Pepper, and ginger ale. Kai picked out diet Pepsi and cream soda. We picked out the four flavours that we both love. We then decided to get a tub of cotton candy ice cream. As we were turning there was this lady who crashed her cart into ours as we were on our way to check out. I looked up and noticed that it was the same lady that had been in each aisle with us, which honestly didn’t make any sense as we just went to the isles we needed.

We check out of the store and head back to the car. After putting everything in the trunk of the car, I look up and see the same woman still there. What the fuck?

“Hey Kai, can you take the cart back please?” He nods and I get into the car and lock it.

I hear a knock that startles me and I look up. It was just Kai. I unlocked the door and he got in. “Wanna tell me why you had the door locked Elle?”

I look over and the woman gets into the car next to us oh great my horror brain made something out of nothing. She was also probably having a movie night with some of her friends.

“It’s nothing Kai, I think I’m just psyching myself out.”

“Okay.” With that we drove back to my place right in the nic of time too as it just started to rain. We shut off all the lights and lock the doors and windows upstairs. We head back down to my studio and I set up everything to begin painting.

I wanted something in the background while I was working so I put on Another. Kai and I have already watched it a few times but we didn’t want to start something new since I wouldn't be able to give it my full attention. Also it's a horror anime so it will put me in the mood for my painting.

I looked down at the outline I drew; it was a girl who had gone psychotic and had a knife in her hand. My plan is to add blood to her once the painting is completely dry, but first I start by painting the eyes. When they are finished they look very dead and already mentally gone inside. I take a break and lay my head on Kai’s shoulder.

“Tired?” he asks me.

“No, I just wanted a break.” We continue watching the anime after two more episodes. There was a bang of thunder and a flash of lightning, I looked out the small window and saw what looked to be a figure of a woman. I looked back to get a better look but she's gone. I must just be seeing things.

I brush it off then get back to my painting. About an hour later I finish painting the skin and I see another flash out of the corner of my eye. I think to myself how odd that is because there was no thunder. I brushed it off as the volume of the show probably just covered the sound. I decided to be done with painting for the night, so we moved out into the lounge area and continued watching Another. There was another flash and in the window we saw her. The woman from the supermarket was in my window.We were going to call the cops then with another flash she's gone.

We decided we couldn't take anymore horror tonight so we put on Ouran Highschool Host Club a few hours later we were on the episode where a character named Tamaki was trying to figure out his friend Haruhi’s biggest fear. When we see a flash of lightning in the episode, it also flashes here, and we see her silhouette again and she vanishes with the lightning once more.

Creeped out we went to my room and lay in bed, I cuddled into Kai because honestly I was shaking and needed comfort.

In the morning Kai and I woke up to banging on the door. I checked the time and it was 8:30 am. We got up and checked no one was there, but there was an envelope that said Elizabeth Steevens and Kai Kalua I brought it inside.

“Ummmm Kai?”

“Yeah?”

I turn the envelope to show him. We were both scared and didn't know what to do. We opened it and there were at least 40 photos of us, starting from when we were coming out of the movie. There were photos of us at the sushi restaurant, the grocery store, and the worst ones of all the ones that were taken looking into my house. Ones of us in my art room, in the lounge, and ones of us asleep in my bed.

Panicked, I call the police and they tell us to come down to the station. Since neither of us knew the woman's name they said there was nothing they could really do for us except to have us tell them if something else happens. Some help they were, I thought.

Kai and I went back to my studio and I continued working on the piece. This time our show of choice was Miria Nikki. As I was painting the hair I saw another flash and considering what happened last night we decided to go to my parents office and check the security cameras and lo and behold she's there on the property.

“Kai whats that in her hand?”

“I don’t know,”

I looked closer and saw that it was a knife. We once again called the police and this time they came, but hearing a car must have scared her. They came inside and asked to watch the cameras with us. Only this time she was at the back door that's connected to the kitchen and of course I happened to leave it unlocked…

“Oh Elizabeth, Kai, come out come out wherever you are..” The woman sang out menacingly. Her voice rang through the house loudly causing me to look to one of the officers for advice

He nods for Kai and I walk out.

“There you two are,”

“Do we know you?” I ask, genuinely confused as to who this woman is.

“Yeah I don't know who you are either.” Kai said just as confused.

“I'm Chloe. I am in your art class.” She says.

We were both confused; we don’t remember having ever seen her before. Our art class had six people in it, us two, three other of our friends and some weird girl who doesn't talk to anybody.

“... you’re the weird girl in our class aren’t you?” Kai questions.

“What did you call me?” She asked with a defensive tone.

“What did you expect him to say, you literally refuse to talk to us. Then whenever the teacher praises my work, you get angry. Besides who goes around taking pictures of people in their own house! That is fucking creepy.” I say

“I get angry because you always get the spotlight! Give someone else a turn.”

“Elle gets the attention because she actually shows her artwork, you just sit in the back of the class and do nothing. If you want attention why ignore us when we try talking to you? What is your problem? And why do you have a knife?” You can tell Kai is starting to lose patience with the situation, as his questions get increasingly aggressive.

“So I can get rid of my competition,” she smiles sweetly.

“What competition? There is no competition Chloe” I ask

“What competition? I have liked Kai forever!” Chloe says frustrated, slightly getting closer to the two of them with the knife.

Kai puts one hand out towards her, while using the other to pull me back with him a couple steps, creating distance between her and I before he speaks again.“I will never like you. Besides there is only one person I like, and hate to break it to sweetheart but it's not you.” This makes me curious who Kai was referring to.

“Then who is it then?” she asks angrily

That's when Kai kissed me. I kissed him back, albeit slightly flustered. This caused Chloe to become enraged, she came towards us with the knife and that's when the cops came out and told her to put the knife down. She complied and dropped the knife as she didn’t realize that the police were here.

One of the two cops took her away as the other came and told us they were going to hold her and do a mental assessment on her. He also checked to see if Kai and I were okay. After we tell him we are he also leaves, leaving Kai and I alone to deal with this new revelation.

“Do you actually like me? Or were you just saying that to get her to stop…” anxious about the answer since I have liked Kai for a while, but didn't want to make things awkward with him.

“Elle I have liked you for a while but I didn't want to lose you.” Kai says as he pulls me closer to him.

I don't know how to respond, all my mind was telling me was ‘kiss him’. I pull him in by his shoulders to another kiss, quickly dispelling doubts either of us had. Kai placed his hands on my waist and melted into it. He pulls away and leans his forehead against mine, just holding me. For the first time in a few days I felt safe.

“Kai?” I ask in a quiet tone almost a whisper.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Can you stay while my parents are gone?” I don’t feel safe enough to be home alone, and you wanted to stay in the comfort that he gave you.

“Of course I can angel.”

#anime #alone #creepy #artist #high school #home alone #horror #oneshot #senior #stalker

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ladyofmaidensandwine · 4 years

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Of Saints and Sinners

Part Three of the All’s Not Fair in Love and War Series

Square Filled for SPN Dean Bingo: The Bunker

Characters: Dean Winchester, Fem! Reader, Sam Winchester, Charlie, John Winchester, Fem! Reader

Wordcount: 1,674

A/N- I know this one’s a bit short and rather late- sorry it took so long, luvs- but I did feel that this chapter wasn’t meant to be particularly exciting and was more about the reader coming to terms with herself and her new reality.

Summary: Dean has a surprise for the reader, and the reader struggles to reconcile two very different versions of herself while still trying to accomplish her mission.

The Bunker, it was called. Massive, endless corridors and halls of identical wooden doors, a windowless stronghold built of solid stone and hidden behind the outer wall. No one got in, or out, without the King’s explicit consent, and the building felt too familiar to you. Another prison. Dean had made a begrudging man allow you to select weaponry of your own from the armory, and then had the seamstress follow your guidelines to create a new wardrobe for you, as your cover had been blown wide open when you’d been forced to fight. The wounds had mostly healed, and would undoubtedly scar, and while everyone felt the safety of the Bunker would protect them, you had doubts. You had seen things that no wall of stone could keep out forever, and eventually, you would have to leave.

No matter where you went, a fully-armed escort of at least four men accompanied you, but not for your safety. For the safety of the civilians. Dean had promised John wouldn’t be able to execute or imprison you again, but how far did his word go, against the commands of his King? You waited for the inevitable heavy iron shackles, and that dark and silent cell haunted you in sleep. You couldn’t enter small or crowded spaces still, and the lack of windows in the stronghold made it hard to breathe sometimes, but you would never give King John the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. You trained, let them see what you were capable of if provoked, you studied maps as often as you dared, tested your mental capacity by memorizing as much of the politics of the kingdom as you could, learned and plotted and planned, and marked the days before you would make your move.

Dean had been absent, but his brother kept an eye on you. He never made to approach, but you knew he was there. On nights when you couldn’t sleep, you’d sometimes find him in the library, not a word spoken between you as you kept to yourselves and read your respective books. Those nights you sometimes faced with equal parts excitement and dread. The game was fun to play, a strategic balance of moves and countermoves, testing one another’s resolve, but it could mean precious time wasted in your search.

You’d been playing games since the moment you revealed yourself, one identity shed in favour of a completely new one, a person more palatable to the court, and one you hoped would gain the trust of the Royal Family. No one knew who you were, beyond your reputation, except for Dean. You wondered which part of your long-buried past he’d managed to uncover. Did he know who you were, where you came from? Did he know why you’d been captured so long ago?

Dean returned quietly, and you hadn’t known he was back until he was at your door, looking weary but determined. “Where were you?” You asked, not bothering to greet him. He entered the room and shut the door behind him, taking a seat at the end of your bed. “It’s good to see you, too.” Dean replied, raising a brow your way. You scowled deeply, and had to seriously refrain from chucking a brush at his face. Dean huffed, and glanced around the room. “Father sent me to hunt them down. Gather information about the attack.” He answered. “What did you find?” “They came on Crowley’s orders. To take over the throne.” Your eyes narrowed, suspicious of the information. “What is it?’ Dean questioned, pine coloured eyes searching you for an answer. “Nothing concrete. This feels a little too aligned to be coincidence, though. I was rotting in that cell for a good long while before His Majesty deigned to drag me out, and soon after, Crowley plans a coup, forcing us to retreat here? There’s more at work here, I know it.” You said fiercely, pacing the room as you spoke. Dean’s face was grave, eyes intense and solemn. “If this is all a part of some grandiose scheme, then we will uncover the plot and put an end to it. Y/N, look at me,” Dean requested, laying a warm hand on your shoulder as you met his gaze, “we will figure this out. Together.” Somehow, you believed him.

The Bunker offered privacy, which meant you and Dean could escape prying eyes and endless questions and people demanding your attention. You’d taken to sparring in one of many training rooms available, teaching Dean how to throw knives as accurately as you did, while Dean furthered your capacity in unarmed single combat. He’d attempted going easy on you until you’d broken his nose for it, and since then, the two of you spent almost every day together, fighting or trying to discover Crowley’s motives. There were eyes and ears everywhere, but you were no longer in hiding- you wore what pleased you, no more dainty lace and demure pastels, and while at first you seemed agreeable and a pleasant lady like any of the other court women, you no longer hesitated to put those who would speak against you wrongly in their place. It was the most honest and like your true self you’d been in many years, and with Dean, all those fortified walls and concealing masks fell away even further. He made it so easy, so simple, to be Y/N and Dean, just Y/N and Dean, not an assassin and the Crown Prince, a killer and a soldier, just two people enjoying the company of someone who understood.

“I have something to show you.” Dean said, pushing aside a heavy tome of the records and lineages of King John’s court of nobles. You tilted your head, raising a brow in a silent question, but Dean didn’t answer, only gave you a knowing smirk and an extended hand. “Do I get a hint?” You asked, taking his hand and letting him lead you from the library. “No. Close your eyes.” Dean instructed. “What?” “Don’t you trust me?” He asked teasingly. Your eyes narrowed. He was up to something. “At the moment, no, but generally, yes.” You replied, smirking back when he gave an unamused expression. “Y/N.” Dean said, annoyed. “Dean.” You mocked. “You may be the most obstinate woman I have ever met.” He sighed. The Prince eyed you with a look of both determination and exasperation, the kind of face you’d watched him give Prince Sam at least a dozen times before. “Then perhaps you’ve met your match, Your Majesty.” You quipped, but closed your eyes without further refusal. Dean huffed a laugh, his calloused palm rough but warm against yours, a small smile gracing your lips. You had glossed over it in jest, but it was true- you did trust him. And that terrified you.

You stared in stunned silence. A room with rows upon rows of artwork. Sculptures, and carvings, sketches, acrylic portraits and landscapes, watercolor paintings, oil, pastels, charcoal drawings, murals and mosaics. Your breath was caught in your throat, eyes wide as you absorbed the myriad of colours. “Is it to your liking?” Dean asked lowly, sounding nervous. You don’t reply, stepping slowly into the first section of stunning oil paintings, the most beautiful art you’d ever seen. Paintings of mermaids and things almost human, with eyes that held that lifelike quality a painter could spend years trying to get right, the shadows so well done, you could swear the paintings move. “I don’t- I have no words.” You said in awe. “What is this? Where did you get all this?” “My ancestors, the Men of Letters, collected the best artwork in all forms they could find for centuries. It’s stored here, but no one ever actually looks at this gallery. I- I noticed you admiring the paintings in the palace, and I thought perhaps you might find some interest in these,” Dean muttered, ears turned red, “and it has been too long since the room was used, anyways.” He deflected from his observation of your love for art, but you were not distracted by attempt. “Dean,” you said, catching his attention with the use of his first name, “this is quite possibly the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, truly.” You said sincerely. “Don’t thank me, Y/N.” Dean said, something almost bitter and regretful in his tone. “There are supplies, should you want for them, towards the back. I should be going, but I-” He stopped, seeming to reconsider his next words carefully. “I hope you won’t mind if I stop by later.” He said slowly. “I should be quite offended if you don’t. Until then, Your Majesty.” You said with a curtsy, Dean sighing, but with a grin to match your own. “M’lady.” He bowed, smirking before exiting through the grand doors.

Dean was good to his word- there were countless supplies, easels and paints to last you your entire life, but though you had once delighted to spend hours attempting to perfect the colour and texture of a cloud with careful and decisive brushstrokes, that place in your heart that had been bursting with life was empty. You stared blankly at a canvas, and wondered where the girl you once knew had gone. The girl who brandished sticks of charcoal instead of knives, the one whose hands were streaked with a veritable rainbow rather than deep crimson, the one that had been kind, the girl that had been so alive. In your heart, you knew that girl had gone into Hell, and someone new had crawled out. And yet, sometimes you thought there might still be that part of you that had loved fiercely, and lived freely, little flickers of a painted scene in your mind’s eye, a stirring in your heart that called for joy. And as you explored the vast collection with Dean, you wondered if an artist’s imagination and a lover’s gentle hands could redeem an assassin. If maybe there was still a part of you worthy of redemption.

TAGS-

Forever Tags-

@justagirlinafandomworld

SPN Dean Bingo Tags-

@deanwanddamons

@spndeanbingo

All’s Not Fair in Love and War Tags-

@perpetualabsurdity

#all's not fair in love and war #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #spndeanbingo #medieval au

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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raidbossmadi · 4 years

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People Like Us Chapter 1

Witch of the Woods

Early morning light filtered in from the window, shining down precisely where a lizard-like fox creature happened to be sleeping on the floor. The creature awoken by the warmth hopped to its feet and screeched running around in a circle before rolling on its back in the sun beam.

“Ugh Persphone, not again.” A pillow was flung off the bed in the direction of the creature who caught it in its mouth and brought it back to where it came from.

“Why are you always like this?” Sloane asked as she uncurled from her nest of blankets and brushed her messy brown hair out of her face. “It’s way too early for this shit you know.” She sighed looking down at Persphone who wagged her tail and tilted her head expectantly. Sloane followed her into the kitchen blinking in the brightness as she’d forgotten to shut the curtains the night before, at least to her relief there wasn’t anyone peering in through the window.

“Are you only ever this friendly when you want food? Do I not do enough for you to warrant some love and affection sometimes?” She asked again as she rummaged through the cabinet before finding what she was looking for pouring the food into Persphone’s bowl before pulling out an apple for herself.

Sloane went back to her room to grab her Echophone, checking the time and seeing it was nine-thirty, too late in the morning to go back to bed if she wanted to be productive today. She pulled her art supply box off the table in the kitchen and called to her pet as she held the front door open then headed out herself. She looked to the woods that surrounded her quiet little house and chose the patch she wanted to paint this morning. She set down her supplies and easel then gestured and a vine wrapped around the stool sitting near the door and dragged it over.

She watched as the glow of the siren marks on her right arm faded to normal muted blue and went to work. She could really lose herself in her art on days like this when the weather was fair and the sun filtered lazily through the canopy of trees. She was laser focused only looking up from the painting when Persphone hopped into her lap to beg for pets before being set back down by a vine.

Noticing that it had been several hours now and the painting had come together in a way she liked, she decided to leave it out on the easel to dry in the midday sun. She headed back into the house to make lunch and just as she had finished the sandwich she’d made she noticed a dark figure in the yard.

“Ugh this again.” She murmured heading out the back door of the house cautiously. The people of Eden-4 had taken the appearance of a Siren on their planet as a sign that they had been blessed by a god and as such they liked to make Sloane’s life difficult. She lived in this clearing not only because it was close to her element but because it was out of the way of the towns and usually meant she didn’t have to worry about being bothered by people who wrongly assumed she wanted their worship.

She slunk around the side of the house towards the front again, she watched as Persphone yipped and ran in circles around the invader though she kept her distance and Sloane was glad to see that the invader was content to leave her pet alone. Their attention was however on the painting she had left out to dry.

“Oh god dammit.” She hissed under her breath, her art was usually the focus of the worshippers. They would take it and add it to strange forest shrines that they thought would earn them her blessing, all it really did of course was make her wish she had any other talent.

“Hey wait!” Sloane reached to grab at the intruder who had swiped her latest painting off the easel but they had already rushed off out of reach. She sighed, they never did like to listen. The tattoos that adorned her right arm began to glow as she reached out with her powers and bent the trees over the path blocking it.

She approached cautiously, though she had the upper hand here she wasn’t an idiot. “ I don’t want to hurt you.” She said calmly “I didn’t want to have to use my powers at all but you really didn’t leave me any choice. Can I please just have my painting back?”

“But how can I build a shrine without a blessing from our Siren?” The worshipper cried. Sloane sighed this was always a hassle to deal with but she supposed she really should be used to it by now.

“Alright, Alright hang on.” She took the painting back from the worshipper and to her side a vine slithered out holding one of her older sketch books. “Here take this, it’s got a lot more than one picture in it.” It was hard to part with any of her work but if they were going to take it she’d prefer they take it on her terms. She released her hold on the trees watching them spring back into place.

“Thank you, I will tell the others of your generosity!” The worshipper ran back down the path disappearing from sight.

Now that had been dealt with, Sloane went back inside, sinking into the couch to relax for a minute before returning to her fridge and retrieving the list she had stuck on it with a Skag shaped magnet. “Right, so I guess I can cross deal with crazy fanatic shit off the to do list and get onto the actual important things I need to do today.”

She grabbed her bag off the counter and headed into town. Thankfully the town was pretty chill so she could have regular interactions with people instead of having to worry someone might start groveling at her feet because they messed up when giving her change, or didn’t have a shirt in her size. She didn’t get what all the fuss was about in the first place, yes, she was a siren but it wasn’t like her power was anything to write home about. She could make plants move, not the biggest deal in the world, but to the people of Eden-4 it seemed like it was.

The bell above the general store door chimed as she pushed it open. She noticed the store was pretty empty which was strange for this time of day, even the counter was empty of employees. As the door shut behind her a familiar redheaded shopkeeper in an apron came out from the back room.

“Oh hey Sloane.”

“Hi Maggie, where is everyone? I don’t think I’ve seen this place so dead well...ever.”

“Didn’t you see the news, everyones out preparing for the visitors.” Maggie said, pulling out her Echophone seemingly to pull up the news.

“We’re getting visitors? No one ever visits Eden-4, who are they?“

“The Calypso Twins.”

Sloane quirked a brow, the name sounding familiar. “Wait wait what? Like the Echonet streamers, with billions of followers? What do they want with this backwoods planet?”

Maggie set her phone down on the counter and slid it towards her. Sloane looked down at the screen where a video on Echotube waited for her. The thumbnail being a picture of the aforementioned Calypso Twins shrugging at an edited picture of Eden-4. The Title of the video read ‘Our next stop’.

She clicked the play button and Tyreen’s voice filled the shop. “What’s up my brothers and sisters across the six galaxies. God-Queen Tyreen coming to live from the Centurion’s bridge, Troy and I wanted to announce that in a day’s time we’ll be blessing our followers on Eden-4 soooo if you’ve ever wanted to see your God-Queen in person and you’re on Eden-4 it’ll be your lucky day. To the rest of my devoted followers we’ll probably be stopping by your planets soon enough, stay bloodthirsty!” The video cut off after a moment of Tyreen smiling at the camera and making a heart with her hands.

“You don’t think they’re coming here to look for the vault do you?” Sloane asked her shopping all but forgotten at this point.

“Dunno, maybe? Tyreen’s a Siren isn’t she, that’s all your ballpark I’m afraid girly. Why are you thinking of handing it over to them if they asked for it?”

Sloane’s brow furrowed, when she had gained her Siren powers the historical society of Eden-4 had handed over the location of Eden-4’s Vault and key telling her that as a Siren it was her duty to protect it. It had wound up being another responsibility she hadn’t asked for but luckily for her the vault hunters seemed to stick to Pandora and far away from the Eden system. She doubted that many people even knew Eden-4 had a vault and as far as she was concerned the people who did know were more than enough.

“Yeah I don’t know. I suppose I’ll just have to see what happens. Thanks for your help Maggie. I appreciate it really.” Sloane said heading out the door before it could be pointed out that she didn’t even bother to buy anything.

When she returned home she sat down at her computer and began to comb the Twin’s Echotube channel, their Let’s Flay streams and any other information she could find on them. She of course had been aware of their existence, it was hard not to if you spent any time at all on the Echonet but Sloane had never been one for streams. However after watching a few of the Twins she found that she maybe should have, Tyreen was charismatic and electric in her personality on top of that she was pretty cute. Troy on the other hand was harder to get a lock on given that he was usually the man behind the camera but from what she could tell about him he was equally as charming as his sister, if not more so and he was quite the looker too.

What really held her attention though was the fact Tyreen was a Siren, being that there were only six sirens in the universe at a time the chances of meeting another one seemed slim. Sloane was intrigued to see what the other siren knew about what they were.

#People Like Us #troy calypso #Tyreen Calypso #Sloane the Siren #My Writing #My HCs #calypso twins #Circleverse #Its here #Its time #If you want spoilers the first 5 chapters are on Ao3 but imma be posting one a day here until I catch up

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half-bakedboy · 3 years

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everything that i want (but didn't think i'd find)

Chapter Three

Rated: Teen Warnings: None Summary: Combat medic, Izzy, worked side by side with her pilot brother, Alec, to ensure the safety of the country and the most important people in their lives; their family.

Alec was starting a family with Magnus—a man Izzy never imagined her brother ending up with—and when the opportunity for them to get married on short notice during Izzy and Alec's summer block leave, Izzy couldn't have been happier for them. Izzy and Alec would make their way home to celebrate the momentous occasion and Izzy could leave everything behind without a second thought like she had when she was eighteen.

Falling in love with Magnus' sister, Clary, was never part of her plan and that threw her off kilter.

Izzy didn’t mind the way things changed after that. Living with Clary was enjoyable at the very least. They would spend their mornings drinking coffee on the balcony and sometimes Clary would bring out a sketch pad and draw whatever they saw that day. They didn’t have a bad view from the apartment; good for people watching and for Clary to practice her building design when Magnus inevitably asked her for her input on one of his projects.

They could also smell the freshness from the ocean if they closed their eyes and let the warm air breeze against their faces. It had Izzy yearning for some time at the beach even though she wasn’t exactly what one might call an outdoorsy person. Clary, on the other hand, seemed to jump at the opportunity when Izzy suggested it.

“I’ve wanted to go since I came back but Magnus isn’t exactly a beach person and I haven’t really been ablAbe to make many friends here,” Clary said excitedly.

“Oh, I can’t imagine why,” Izzy teased. She held the door open for Clary to follow her back inside and laughed when Clary nudged her side a bit harsher than Izzy expected. “I was kidding , Clary, gosh!”

“Mhm, I’m sure you were,” Clary muttered with a glare. Izzy could see the small smile on her lips, though. “Were you serious? About going to the ocean? There’s this spot I’ve walked by a few times that I would love to paint, unless that would be boring for you…” Clary trailed off almost nervously so Izzy shook her head.

“That sounds great, actually. I can get some sun, drink some lemonade, listen to the podcast I’m trying to catch up on and you can paint to your heart’s desire.”

“Sounds like a pretty great first date if you ask me,” Clary pointed out. Izzy’s heart did a strange flutter at the word and she glanced at Clary with narrowed eyes.

“That’s not what this is,” Izzy corrected, but Clary just shrugged.

“Why not? If it looks like a date and feels like a date…”

“It’s not a date,” Izzy said again, firmer that time.

“Whatever you say, Isabelle,” Clary said, drawling out Izzy’s name all too similar to how her brother always did.

“I’m going to go get ready,” Izzy said, knowing when to back out of a losing battle. Clary was a lot of things and one of those was persistent.

She walked into her room before Clary could say anything more and threw open her closet door. It had been over a year since she had been able to wear her bathing suit down to the beach and Izzy was more excited than was probably normal. It wasn’t often she got to wear anything besides her clunky uniform and she was just happy that in the next few weeks, she wouldn’t have to step foot outside with the camouflage fatigues.

She sorted through the few bathing suits she had before settling on a powder blue bikini with more ruffles than almost anything else she owned. It was exactly what Clary wouldn’t have been expecting—which was definitely not the reason she chose it, no way. She got undressed and pulled on the bathing suit before choosing a floral wrap to put over it for their walk. It wasn’t too far to the ocean so she decided on some strappy but comfortable sandals and made her way back out to the living room.

Clary was still behind a closed door, so Izzy began packing what she could for snacks and drinks. She took a play out of Alec’s book and made sure the cooler was filled with water before stacking in the alcoholic seltzers and juices that she really wanted to spend her day drinking. She added a few snacks to her bag before cutting up some veggies and fruits and tossing them in small plastic baggies to pass the time. She propped herself on the counter when she finished, staring at the door as she waited for Clary.

After a few moments, she called, “What’s taking you so long?”

“Coming, coming!” Clary yelled back. Izzy heard some rustling and then a few small crashes before the door finally opened.

“You okay there, Fray?” Izzy said, trying to conceal the smirk on her face.

“I got distracted putting together my supplies,” Clary replied, only looking a little embarrassed. She had a bit of something on her cheek like she was actually distracted with the art and not just the supplies, and Izzy thought it was adorable.

“You got a little something…” She gestured to her face and Clary wiped at it quickly with a groan.

“In my defense, I didn’t think you were actually going to let me draw at the beach,” Clary said quickly.

“You are aware that you are, in fact, an adult who can make her own decisions, yeah?” Izzy teased. Clary swatted at her before grabbing a piece of fruit to toss in her mouth.

“Tell that to my brother—and yours, actually,” Clary complained.

“Those are for the beach,” Izzy whined, smacking Clary’s hand when she reached for another one.

“Alright, alright,” Clary giggled. “Are you ready?” She asked, her eyes trailing along Izzy’s body once she jumped off of the counter. “How am I supposed to not believe this is a date when you look like that?” Clary asked with a raise of her eyebrows. Izzy felt just a little smug at that.

“Because I said so?” Izzy replied easily, snagging the cooler and cloth bag from the counter before making her way to the door. “You coming or what?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” she said gruffly, a pout forming on her lips. “But I’m gonna spend the entire walk there figuring out how to convince you that this should be a date.”

“Well, what a productive walk that will be then,” Izzy responded. She let the door shut behind them, feeling a new excitement for what the day had in store for them.

“So,” Clary began after only a few minutes into their walk, “why do you make it so hard for me to flirt with you?”

Izzy blanched at the question. She should have figured Clary would insist on some form of conversation, but Izzy had hoped she could put it off for just a little bit of time if she walked fast enough.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Clary, it was that every time she opened her mouth, Izzy liked her a little more and that was dangerous.

“Because if I made it easy, you might not do it anymore.”

That wasn’t what Izzy had meant to say.

“I— Has anyone ever told you that it’s really hard to focus when you’re around?” Izzy asked, hoping it sounded like the insult it was. Clary hummed and glanced over at Izzy as she caught up to her pace.

“Yeah, but I have a feeling it hasn’t been for the same reason you’re thinking it,” she said, smirking. Izzy nudged her but the skin-on-skin contact proved to be too much for her brain to handle when mixed with the teasing banter they had between them.

“And what reason might that be?” Izzy knew the question was a trap the second it left her mouth and held up a hand before Clary could answer. “No, wait. I don’t think I want you to answer that.”

“But I had such a good response,” Clary whined.

“I’m sure you did, but look,” Izzy said, pointing at the beach that had come into view, “we made it in record time for you to stop talking.”

“You know, if I didn’t know how cute you thought I was, I might be offended by your eagerness to shut me up all the time,” Clary muttered, rushing ahead with a few pointed skips.

“The eagerness to shut you up isn’t the part I’m worried about,” Izzy whispered to herself as she followed, dropping her things on the sand.

Clary set up her easel, moving it a few times before she seemed to find the perfect view. Once she did, she stretched her arms above her head and shook out her hands. It was something Izzy had noticed her do before she created any art and it had Izzy smiling for reasons she couldn’t quite understand. Maybe it was the familiarity or the way all of the tension in Clary from the walk visibly fell from her shoulders, but Clary was happiest when she was about to draw. Izzy liked seeing her happy.

You know, the normal amount one would for a friend.

“Did you bring any sunscreen?” Clary asked, suddenly panicked. “You probably don’t even need it cause you’re already so tan and perfect but this skin,” she pressed her fingers against her pale and freckled shoulder, “needs at least a few SPF to not burn to a crisp.”

“You’re lucky Jace is as white as a sheet. I learned a long time ago to keep some in my beach bag.” Izzy tossed it to Clary who seemed delighted by the fact Izzy had it, but then she glanced over with a flirty look in her eyes and Izzy figured there was something more.

“Can you get my back?” She asked, batting her eyelashes.

“Oh my god,” Izzy giggled, “that is the worst line ever. I can’t believe you just went there.”

“What?” Clary said, mock offended. “I just need help with rubbing this lotion all over my sensitive, delicate skin and you’re my roommate and friend who can help me.”

“I’m going to help you, but just know when I decide to actually put moves on you, they’re going to be better than that .”

“So that’s a ‘when’ then?” Clary noted.

“Hold your hair up,” Izzy demanded, covering her with sunscreen before she could say anything more to incriminate herself.

As she rubbed the lotion on Clary’s back, she realized that it was going to be a long day.

Izzy wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but the sand was comfortable and the weather was beautiful and she could hear Clary humming along to whatever song she had playing in her headphones. It was the most at peace she had been in a long while. It wasn’t until a few droplets of chilly water landed on her thighs, stomach, and chest that her eyes opened to yell at the clouds for producing rain when that wasn’t in the weather.

Instead, Clary was standing over her, letting her sopping wet hair drip onto her skin. Izzy rolled onto her stomach quickly and glared at Clary who erupted into a fit of giggles. It would have been cute if Izzy wasn’t so annoyed at her peaceful slumber being interrupted.

“C’mon, you’ve been out for like thirty minutes. One, you’re going to burn and two, I’m bored and want to play in the water,” Clary explained, hands on her hips indignantly.

“I don’t really do the water thing,” Izzy said with a skeptical glance at the ocean.

“Who lives by the beach and doesn’t swim?” Clary asked.

“Uh, me?” Izzy answered with her best smile.

“So, why not?” Clary asked, sitting down on the towel next to Izzy. There wasn’t a lot of room so Clary’s cold skin pressed against the bits of Izzy’s that had been warmed by the sun and it felt better than it should have.

“Because,” Izzy said by way of explanation. She didn’t elaborate even when Clary sent her a look of intrigue.

It wasn’t that Izzy was scared of the water, but she wasn’t part of the Navy for a reason. She could deal with being up in the air in a helicopter or in the middle of the desert in a tank, but the thought of being submerged into that much water terrified her. She could go swimming if she wanted to, but there was nothing fun about salt covering every surface of her body and whatever decided to check out the beach that day sliming up against her foot.

“Don’t make me go in alone, Iz,” Clary pleaded but Izzy stood her ground. Or, really, she put her sunglasses back on and pressed her head into her arms.

She felt Clary leave and let out a satisfied sigh as she soaked in the sun once more. She couldn’t relax fully, though, because she heard the telltale sound of Clary’s laughter echoing a few yards away and it was distracting. Not only was it loud and bright, but Izzy found herself more interested than she should have been in what the cause of it was. She made the mistake of turning her head in the direction of the noise, glaring when she saw Clary talking with a man in a blue swimsuit that hung too low on his hips and a body even Alec would be jealous of.

“Don’t do it, Iz. Stay on your safety towel and ignore it,” she muttered to herself, hiding her face in her arms again.

Except Clary burst into laughter again, a squeal leaving her lips at the same time. When Izzy looked up, the muscle man had her thrown over his shoulder and was running into the water. Clary looked like she was having fun but Izzy really wasn’t a fan of how much.

Before she could stop herself, she had gotten up and thrown her sunglasses on the towel in order to stomp her way over to the water. Clary popped up from underneath the tide, a huge smile on her lips.

“Oh, there she is! Come to join us?” Clary asked, raising her eyebrows almost like a challenge; one that Izzy accepted immediately.

“Yeah, you just seemed to be having so much fun over here and I just knew I couldn’t miss it.” There was so much sarcasm dripping from her tone, she was honestly surprised when the muscle man came over to greet her.

“Hey, I’m Chad. I was just telling Cassie over here—”

“Hey!” Clary yelled, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly offended at the inaccurate name. Izzy chose not to correct him and held out her hand instead, gripping his as tight as she could when they shook hello. He winced and Izzy was satisfied.

“Hi there. I’m Isabelle and I’m so glad there was someone to keep my girlfriend company while I was relaxing. This one is just so hard to keep up with sometimes, aren’t you, Cassie ?” Izzy said, accentuating the still incorrect name as she walked over and wrapped an arm around Clary’s neck.

“Only because my girlfriend here is incredibly slow. Fast is much more my pace which I’m sure Chaz understands,” Clary said, insulting both Izzy and Chad in one breath. Man, she was incredible.

Chad looked back and forth between them before someone called his name from a few yards away. He gestured over his shoulder and left without another word, but Izzy thought the fearful glance he sent her was worth the slap that stung against her shoulder.

“First you want nothing to do with me and then you get all defensive over some frat boy who obviously doesn’t have a chance? Seriously, Iz, with the whiplash you’re giving me, I might need a medic,” Clary said. There was a hint of annoyance but it was drowned out by the smirk that spread across her face in satisfaction of her lame joke.

“Well, I’m here now, and I’ll give you a head start before I push you underwater,” Izzy said happily, pulling her arm away from where it was still wrapped around her neck. She glanced down at her nails before peeking up at Clary. “You’ve got ten seconds.”

“Are you—?” Izzy nodded before she could finish her question and Clary’s eyes went wide as she stumbled back into the water slowly, like backing away from a predator.

“3, 2, 1…”

Izzy pounced.

Izzy couldn’t remember the last time she had that much fun with someone that wasn’t Alec. It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends, but she didn’t exactly jive with the girls in high school and she joined the military too soon after graduation to worry about making other friends. She was ‘one of the guys’, even though she hated that sentiment, so most of the people she socialized with didn’t want to go hang out at a beach for hours on end or play in the water like children.

It was nice and Izzy could have easily found herself getting used to it.

“Okay, okay,” Clary shouted after Izzy had lifted her out of the water to toss her a few feet away, “I give up. You are obviously stronger than you look and I am a mere weakling.”

“Ahh, smells like sweet victory,” Izzy said with a sniff, “and also hamburgers?”

“I could eat,” Clary noted, wiping her hair away from her face and licking the salt from her lips. Izzy didn’t stare at them, she really didn’t.

“There’s a nice place a short walk from here. Wanna make our way over there? No shoes required,” she added as an extra bonus.

“Well, in that case, let’s go!” Clary yelled, practically prancing over to where their towels lay.

They both dried themselves off and made small conversation as they showered away the salt from their hair and skin, both tossing on the dresses they had packed to cover up on their walk.

“Do you come here often?” Clary asked. “Before you left, I mean. Or when you come back?”

“To be honest, I wasn’t really ever planning on coming back. If Alec wasn’t getting married, I probably wouldn’t even be here.”

“And I would’ve had the apartment all to myself? Damn!” Clary teased, nudging her shoulder against Izzy’s as they walked. Izzy rolled her eyes and pushed her back playfully. “You haven’t really… made yourself at home at the apartment. I kind of assumed that was because of me,” Clary continued, glancing at Izzy sheepishly.

“No, it’s— You are definitely not the problem.” She wasn’t and Izzy found herself not liking that she had made Clary feel that way. “As you have seen, my family and I don’t exactly… get along. I’m here to support Alec because he wants me here for his wedding and I want to be there for him, but right after the wedding, I’m leaving and probably not ever coming back.”

“Where will you go?” Clary asked. There wasn’t any judgment in her tone like Izzy had somehow expected. She had heard it from enough people in her life to start to expect it.

“I haven’t finished out what I want to do as a combat medic so I guess… wherever they send me next.”

“What is it that you want to do?” Clary asked.

Izzy tried to ignore the way her heart jumped at the question. No one had ever really asked Izzy that. They said they admired her for what she did or that she was brave to do it, but it was all a show most of the time. Those people just wanted anyone listening to know they respected the armed forces by giving praise and buying her coffee. When she looked around, there wasn’t anyone for Clary to impress. She was just interested and Izzy warmed inside.

“I want to change someone’s life. I—” Izzy paused to think for a moment before running a hand through her hair. “When I chose to enlist as a medic, it was because someone changed my life. I want to be that for someone else, I guess.”

“I’m sure you’ve changed a lot of lives, Isabelle Lightwood,” Clary noted.

“You’re a dork,” Izzy commented with a roll of her eyes. “What about you?” Izzy asked, wanting to change the subject away from her.

“What about me?”

“What is it that you want to do?” Izzy clarified. “You have all of this art around our apartment so I can’t help but wonder what your plan is.”

“I don’t really… have one,” Clary admitted, almost sheepishly. It was an interesting tone for her. “Everyone always expects me to have this big business endeavor or a 5-year plan for the future of my art, but that’s exactly what I don’t want.”

“What do you mean?”

“I—” Clary took a breath and leaned her head back, staring up at the sky. “My mom always felt stuck. She had a gallery that she loved, but she couldn’t do anything more with it once she had decided to settle here. I thought about following in her footsteps like everyone expected me to, but…”

“That wasn’t you?” Izzy guessed. She understood that more than she thought Clary understood. “You want to go where your creativity takes you and hope for the best, I get that. It’s not a bad thing,” Izzy said reassuringly.

Clary snorted, “Yeah, tell that to every single person I’ve ever met.”

“I will,” Izzy said and she meant it. Clary knew it too as she shot a wide grin in Izzy’s direction.

“Right now, I’m content living with the funds I’ve saved up and what my mom left me. I’ll… figure it out.”

“For what it’s worth, I think your art is beautiful. If you ever decided to sell it or have some big convoluted business plan, I don’t think you’d have any trouble,” Izzy said honestly.

“Is that a compliment I hear? Maybe even a flirt if I look too much into it?” Clary teased, bumping their hips together playfully.

Before Izzy’s blush could take up her entire face, they reached the restaurant Izzy had mentioned. She pushed open the door and was greeted with the smiling face of her brother almost immediately.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” Jace called, pulling Izzy into a tight hug.

“ Hermano , I was hoping to see you while I was here,” Izzy said truthfully, holding him at arm’s length and patting his cheek. “Alec said that you’re still considering the wedding?”

“Ah, always straight to the point with you, isn’t it?” Jace said, glancing over Izzy’s shoulder to where Clary was standing a few feet away. “She kidnap you or something?” Jace asked with a wink.

“Very funny,” Clary said, moving forward to wrap him in a hug similar to Izzy’s. She stood back with a very confused look on her face that both of them laughed at as they pulled away.

“Who do you think helped Clary move into you and Alec’s place? You know it wasn’t Magnus,” Jace said pointedly. “He tasked Simon and me to do most of the work while he drank a martini on the couch.”

“Sounds like him,” Izzy laughed. “How is Simon? I haven’t seen him around since we got back and neither of you graced us with your presence at Magnus’ welcome home party.”

Jace scoffed, “You mean the one mom took over?”

“Fair point…” Izzy trailed off, sharing a look with her brother that meant they both understood why Jace and Simon weren’t there.

“Are there any Lightwoods that actually like Maryse?” Clary asked. When Jace and Izzy turned to her, she pressed her lips together, clearly thinking she was off base.

“Max,” Izzy and Jace said together, both erupting into laughter.

“He’s still a kid so he’ll get there,” Izzy said like a promise. Jace nodded in agreement before his name was calling out from somewhere behind them.

“Duty calls. Let Maia know that your food’s on me tonight.” Before Izzy could argue, Jace kissed her cheek and said, “Welcome back, sis.”

They made their way to a table with a beautiful view of the ocean and Izzy sighed as she inhaled the fresh, crisp air. She could also smell the delicious food that was being cooked in the kitchen and smiled as she glanced back at Clary. Izzy couldn’t remember the last time she had been so content. Between her morning with Clary and being able to eat at Jace’s restaurant, it was safe to say that she was having a good day and those seemed far and few in between when she was in her hometown.

“You’re really beautiful,” Clary said like it didn’t cause Izzy’s breath to stutter in her lungs. It was so matter-of-fact that Izzy let out a huff of laughter.

“Thank you?” she responded. It wasn’t meant to be a question, but she figured she deserved an explanation for the random compliment.

“I just have a feeling that people don’t tell you that enough. They’re probably too stupid or incredibly intimidated by you, but either way, I feel like you deserve to hear it.”

“I thought we agreed that the flirting would stop until I decided to start it again,” Izzy noted, calling back to their earlier conversation. Clary shook her head and held up a finger at her.

“I believe it was a request; one that I did not agree to, I might add.”

“So, we’re just going to… what? Continue to live together while planning our brother’s wedding all while flirting like we’re teenagers?”

“I don’t know. It sounds like a solid plan to me,” Clary said, grinning as Maia walked over to take their order. “You seem like a smart girl.”

“I’ve been told that on occasion,” Maia said instantly, winking at Izzy. “Why do you say that?”

“Wouldn’t we make a really adorable couple?” Clary asked and Izzy choked on the water she was drinking.

“Clary, please!” Izzy shouted, unable to hold back a little snorted giggle. “You do not have to answer that.”

“Izzy looks good with everyone,” Maia noted, “but yeah, you two would absolutely make a cute couple. Good luck cracking through this tough exterior, though.”

“Hey,” Izzy said with a glare at Maia. “I could easily tell my brother to fire you,” she threatened, though everyone knew it was a total lie.

“You wouldn’t dare.” She glanced at Clary and continued, “She’s a softie once you get on her good side, and considering she brought you here , you must’ve already snuck through a little.”

“Are we allowed to order, or…?” Izzy said, blushing wildly and really hoping to change the subject.

“Jace is already preparing your food, but Clary, what’ll you have?”

Izzy didn’t listen to the rest of her order, opting instead to look a little too long at the woman in front of her. She knew the second she met Clary that it was going to be impossible not to be attracted to her, but she hoped that if there was any good in the world, it wouldn’t mean actual feelings.

She hadn’t had those since high school, never letting herself get close enough to anyone around her to actually fall into a pile of cliched romance like she had seen both of her brothers do. She was happy for them and the lives they had created with their husbands, but she had never wanted that for herself.

She didn’t like how immediately she wondered if Clary could change that.

“So, any fun plans for the rest of the day?” Clary asked.

Izzy resisted the urge to mention that other than panicking, not really.

#etiw #chapter three

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