( @scnguis )

“-- And so I told Calypso to keep the shed locked, and I trusted the girl with a key. And you know what that got me? A nest full of flame salamanders, and half the training yard in singed chaos.”

{ @scnguis }

A dark purple backpack and a head of fluffy dark brown curls. Jeans and a dark brown button-down tossed over an old Marina & the Diamonds t-shirt. Black converse.

A high school gymnastics duffle bag hanging from one hand, a strawberry cream frappucino in the other as she steps into the gym for practice. 

It all glosses over well. Afterwards, she rewards herself with a (strawberry) soda, which she spills nearly all over someone’s opened book as she’s trying to collect her things from the bleachers.

“Merda, I-- Ugh. My bad. Damn it.”

{ @scnguis }

Blue eyes scan the pages in front of her, lips moving as she zones in on the words. Loud laughter towards the back of the room draws her attention, and she glances over her shoulder. Frat boys. Trying to chat up a girl who looked more interested in rummaging through her duffle bag on the floor than giving the time of day.

{ @scnguis }

She doesn’t care who just strolled into her room. She just got out of practice, she’s starving. She’s going to devour the last of her King-Sized Reese’s stash if it kills-

A pause as she looks up, mouth full of one peanut butter cup. Looks to her mate. Hooman mate. Whose stomach just rumbled quietly. A puppy whine. 

...

RP PHOTOSET;CRESCENDO: {GIANNA VIANNI AND CARMI.LLA  K,ARNSTEIN}

She knows. She knows about all of it. Everything that happened first with Gianna, everything that happened a few days later with Danny.

She’s not speaking to either of them, really. Not after she had to barge into Danny’s room to find both girls at each other’s throats. But the least she can do is try to make up for whatever this poor girl’s been through. So she slides a tupperware container of brownies across the coffee table the next time she catches the girl in the Lodge common room.

“Carmilla, right?”

“You sure you ate enough, Gianna?”

“Yes, mama. I’ll work my way up to three heaping plates instead of just two and a half.”

Some more lighthearted teasing between mother and daughter before Gianna makes her way into her room. It’s a pretty room made of mostly purple, maroon and black. She shuts the door behind herself and smiles at the vampire already occupying her california king-sized bed.

She was bent down, rummaging around in her duffel bag when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Straightening up and moving to see who was trying to get her attention is her worst mistake. She shouldn’t have turned around. Shouldn’t have.....shouldn’t.....

It’s impossible to tell what she’s looking at. Who. A ghost? A cruel hallucination from withdrawal? (God, the scar on her hip itches. Prickles, drives her crazy.)