#FINALLY I finished the full colour of my newest baby!!

[leviiackrman]

QUI’EN AMANITA - Daggerheart [full colour]

more art || character page || commissions

Tag list (ask to be added or removed): @statichvm @risingsh0t @simonxriley @tommyarashikage @bbrocklesnar @confidentandgood @unholymilf @florbelles @thedeadthree @shellibisshe @roofgeese @aezyrraeshh @faerune @tekehu @jackiesarch @minaharkers @sergeiravenov @carlosoliveiraa @rosenfey @nokstella @queennymeria @heroofpenamstan @alexxmason @tethrras @jamessunderlandgf @a-treides @solasan @bigbywlf @delzinrowe

[twilitty]

Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn���t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

[plutoismydaddy]

A devils smile

Taehyung x reader (Enemies to lovers)

He was the one that was supposed to get pranked, so why did you feel like the clown? (Idk im tired)

I got a request for this by a very nice person but… I can’t find the request. I’m so sorry!!  (I made the picture, please dont steal it)

CH 1 CH 2

The golden rays of the setting danced through your windows and coated your room with its crimson hues, remind you of how little you had done today. The pandemic that was sweeping over the world was devastating but brought small doses of happiness as you no longer had to go to school. So, of course, the first option was to start colonizing on your couch. You took a bite of your sandwich as picked up your phone that had started to buzz beside you. In the middle of your lock screen floated the message notification with Sun-hi’s name written on it. Taking the last bite of your meal, you unlocked your phone, a video popped up on the chat room. You‘r eyebrows rose in surprise, “She actually filmed it” you thought before clicking on it. The screen was black for a second before a voice was heard “Hey, Taehyung there is something for you” you watched as Taehyung with an excited and surprised smile walks into the frame. Clueless as to what was going to unfold. Taehyung Stood in front of the small gift basket a smile stretched across his lips as he examined it, “Is this for me?” you let out a laugh “It’s all for you baby” you thought as he picked up a small can of pringles. You moved closer to the screen to as he opened the top and watched as he jumped back with a little screech when three black snakes and a cloud of confetti exploded in his face. Your back collided with the grey cushions as fell back, laughter echoing through the room. Looking back at the screen, you watched as Taehyung with a now sour face opened the bag of chewy candy only to find it filled with orbeez. He threw the bag back into the basket before turning around and stomping away, you were slightly disappointed he hadn’t opened the other things. Still, it didn’t stop the cackling that was shaking your body. Exiting the video, you saw a new message, “You’re running out of ideas, huh?”, with a small chuckle you responded, “Nothing can beat a classic”. No respond “Come on, you have to admit it was funny. A little at least” a second past before she replied “He hasn’t said anything in 15 minutes” followed by a laughing sticker which you mirrored as your laughter resumed again.

“I really thought life was going to be nice to me, huh?” you thought as you put the cardboard box down with a huff. You loved your uncle and was always ready to help him but was he thinking when he asked you, the weakest person in the family, to help him with his renovation company. Now that you thought about it wasn’t he the same person to say your arms looked like a grasshopper, you shook your head. “The man must be desperate”, you looked around the warehouse it was huge and filled with old furniture and clothes that would be eventually sold. Outside one of the windows, you saw the colours of the sunset blend with each other to create an art piece, you should head home before it got too dark.

 Your uncle had been nice enough to give you a locker to put all your belongings, standing in front of the small grey locker you picked up the little sticky note that sat on the door. “Thank you for helping me out, sweetheart.” Warmth filled your chest he was so sweet, a smile stretched across your lips as you opened the locker and reached in for your bag, something small and light fell on your hand when you bumped your jacket. You looked up and saw a cockroach sitting proudly on the back of your hand, a scream flew from your lips and you stumbled backwards and cringed in pain as your butt collided with the floor. “What’s wrong?” your uncle burst through the door panic clear on his face you pointed towards your locker fear taking away your ability to speak. He walked up to the locker but didn’t seem scared by the monster inside at all; instead, he let out a laugh. “Oh sweety this made out of plastic” he turned around with a hand full of cockroaches, plastic cockroaches. You stood up fear now replaced with anger “Why would you do that?” you said clutching your heart making sure it was still beating and pointing at him with the post-it note. He held up his hands “I didn’t do this” you looked at him unimpressed “Really it wasn’t me” you crossed your arms. “Then who could it be” you rolled your eyes “Maybe it was your friend” eyes now squinted you looked back at your uncle “Friend?”, “Yeah a guy came in today saying you forgot your shirt or something and I told him To just put it in your locker”. Your eyes squinted more as a suspect popped up in your head “What was his name?”. “Taehyung, I think” your uncle muttered while scratching his neck, you looked back at your locker “Not bad, not bad indeed Kim Taehyung”, but how did he know you were here?  

“So what you’re saying is that you betrayed me” Sun-hi chuckled “All I did was say that you were helping your uncle out, how would I know he was going find the address and do something like that?”. You blinked at her “.....betrayal, traitor” “You literally befriended me because I work with him” she argued as she took a sip of her coffee. “It’s called getting info about the enemy sweety, strategy. I thought you were smarter than this” you finished the sentence with a dramatic sigh. Sun-hi looked back at you “What is even going on, you know with all the pranks, you're acting like kindergarten kids”. Ignoring the last part as you leaned back in your chair and stared into the air with dreamy eyes “Just get to it” Sun-hi sighed. “So like a year ago I walked into the convenience store to buy some snacks, and all my favourite chips were gone and the same with my favourite drinks. As I walked out, I saw a guy who was buying all of them.” You leaned forward resting your elbows on the table and furrowing your eyebrows “I thought “it’s fine I’ll just buy them next time” you raised your finger making Sun-hi flinch “BUT! It was the same every day. Every time I walked in he was buying them or sitting by the door eating them”. “Oh and that stupid smirk” You stared into the air, eyes burning holes into the wall across the street. “He would always have that stupid. cocky smirk” Sun-hi let out an unimpressed chuckle “So all of this is because of some chips” your eyes returned to her “No it’s about…” your brain seemed to go blank, and sun-hi raised her eyebrows “The disrespect?”, “Yes, exactly”. She shook her head “and who started this whole prank war” you smirked leaning back in our chair “I did”, “I don’t think it’s something to be proud of” Ignoring her you pulled your phone out “So how do you think I should prank him this time?”.

Your eyes were fixated on the pictures displayed on your screen, the familiar page of Taehyungs Instagram open as you looked through the newest pictures he posted. “What’s with the serious face?” Haneul asked as he walked into the living room, you stopped your scrolling. “I’m plotting my revenge” you answered monotony as your eyes scanned the picture on your screen. Taehyung was leaning against a brick wall, his wine red dress shirt unbuttoned to expose the top of his chest the sun coating his skin in a honey hue. “You’re still doing the whole prank war thing?” you nodded your head, “Why don’t you just end it” looking up you gave him a confused look “You know, prank him so hard you basically “win” “. “Don’t encourage her” Sun-hi sighed from beside you “No, but if you do that then he will finally leave you alone, and the two of you don’t have to talk again”. Not talk to him again, your lips pressed together in a slight pout as you though. “Or maybe you don’t want that” your thought came to a halt “What?”, “Do you not want this pranking to stop?” Sun-hi’s smirk mirrored Haneul, “Why would I not want that?” you leaned back, resting your chin against your palm. Sun-hi let out a laugh “Because you...like Taehyung” you sat upright as if poked in your side “Are you crazy?” you tried to sound bored, but the sudden tight feeling in your chest was making it hard to think straight. “People that hate each other can still fall in love” you raised your eyebrows at Haneul. “You two were literally like two love deprived teens when you first meet”, “Still why would I date someone like him” you continued, sticking your tongue out in disgust. Sun-hi tried to suppress her laughter as she leaned towards you and pointing towards your lap “Then why are always scrolling through his Instagram and staring at his pictures”. You looked down onto your phone where Taehyung was still leaning against the wall, smirking as always. Heat pooled in your cheeks and you feel almost dizzy as you stood up from your seat “I’m leaving”. You could hear the couple burst out laughing as you stomped towards the front door.

--------------------------------------

I'll post the next chapter tomorrow, it’s really late and I’ve been working on this for the past week maybe. 

//MiniPluto

[zayray030]

Misunderstandings are Disastrous.

Summary: Oliver is a good person. He really is. So he doesn't understand why he's comforting a drunk Iris who thinks her husband's cheating on her. He's gonna kill Barry. OR Barry and the others have been acting really wierd for a month and Iris rightfully jumps to conclusions.

How did Oliver ever get put into these situations. He was a good man. Sure me might have killed a few people and cheated on a couple of people, but at the end of the day he tried his hardest to be a good person.

Do that's why he was extremely confused on why he was consulting an extremely drunk Iris about her place in Barry's life.

“I'm sure he loves you Iris. Why would you think otherwise?” Oliver asked, trying to get to the source of the problem. He's sure by the time Iris has finished he would be able to dig up at least 50 different times where Barry gushed about Iris, at least.

“Well it started a month ago…”

~A month ago~

“Hey babe!” Iris greeted happily when she saw Baeey in the kitchen. She had just come back from C.C Citizen and she really wanted to see her husband again.

“Oh, hey Iris. What are you doing here?” asked Barry distractedly, not looking up from his phone. Iris frowned slightly at his tone before smiling again and soldering on.

“Well I just got back from jitters after writing a really long article on the newest crime sprees that the Flash had stopped and I really wanted to come cuddle with my husband!” she said excitedly but Barry still hadn't looked up from his screen. “Barry?”

“Oh, um yeah, that's nice. Listen Iris, I have to go somewhere. I'll see you tonight.” said Barry before getting up and walking out. He hadn't even given her a kiss goodbye.

Iris just shook her head, thinking it was nothing and maybe he was recovering from another meta attack. Oh well, they'll cuddle tonight.

~A week after that incident~

“Hello, this is Barry. Please leave a message.” came Barry's voice from the phone. Iris sighed again and let her phone drop on the counter of Jitters. Iris had been acting weird all week and he had been ignoring all her calls and Iris was starting to get worried. Was he being mind controlled?

Suddenly, Iris heard the sound of the door opening and when she turned around she saw a very beautiful woman walking in and she couldn't believe who was behind her. Barry.

Iris felt something stir up in her chest but she pushed it down. Now was not the time to tune in with her emotions. She quickly looked around the room and saw a hidden spot where they wouldn't be able to see her but she would be able to and sat there.

Iris felt her heart crack the more she sat there and watched Barry talk to the beautiful woman and laugh with her. Insecurity shot up in her and so did jealousy but she squashed them down. Barry would never cheat on her. He was too loving for that. But Iris couldn't help but think of those times where Barry seemed almost bored with her and she felt her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She rubbed at her eyes quickly. No! She would not jump to conclusions about her loyal husband!

But Iris couldn't help but feel her heart crack even more when she saw Barry give the woman a hug longer than strictly necessary and saw the woman kiss his cheek. Iris held back a sob until Barry walked out with a woman and only then did she bring her hands to her face and sob.

~A week after that~

“Sorry Iris, but today is meta day.” said Cisco sadly as he and everyone else got ready to go out in town.

“Find a really cute girl that Barry told us about,” said Ralph. Frost slapped him over the head. Or maybe it was Caitlin. Who knows?

“Oh?” Iris said quietly, taking a step back from everyone hurt and betrayal rippling through her.

“What this dumbass means is that we're just going to pick some clothes that we can wear without our powers getting in the way and Barry met this really nice woman who can make clothes like nobody's business.” said Frost, with her usual cold tone but it was surprisingly gentle when directed at Iris.

“Yeah, what the ice lady said. Plus, I really want to buy some more jackets.” added Allegra.

“Okay, that's cool. Um, have a nice day.” said Iris awkwardly as everyone walked out to the elevator. While Iris was walking away she heard something that caught her ears so she stayed back slightly.

“Christ that was close.” muttered Cisco.

“Next time don't be so obvious. Barry doesn't want Iris to know and I agree. She deserves it.” snapped Frost.

“Yeah! Don't ruin it. He doesn't want her to know until the last minute possible and we're going to respect that.” agreed Allegra and Iris could imagine the small glare she must have on.

“I'm sorry but I feel weird when I lie to Iris.it doesn't feel natural.” argued Ralph.

“Well Joe, Wally, Cecile, Jackie and Kamilla are willing to do it so pull one for the team, Ralph!” said Cisco as the elevator doors closed.

Iris felt her heart crack again at knowing the fact that her own family and friends were willing to sit back and watch her husband go behind her back. Iris knew she shouldn't be jumping to conclusions but it was getting harder and harder to be able to deny the fact that her husband might be cheating on her.

After all, the evidence and the strange interactions have been proof enough that maybe, just maybe, that Barry is cheating on her and the others are supporting this. Iris quickly ran to the canteen and flopped down on one of the couches and sobbed her heart out at this new revelation.

~Currently~

“... and other odd things have been happening across star labs and whenever I hang out with the others they're just so secretive and they keep sending me these looks and - and-” and Iris could no longer keep her tears in and sobbed out.

Oliver quickly put an arm around and tried to soothe her like he would soothe Thea when she got scared, nervous or upset and let her cry on his shoulder.

“It's going to be okay, Iris.” he said softly while also vowing to kill Barry for his stupidity. “I'm going to need you to take this drink for me. It'll make you sober but won't give you a hangover.” he said gently as he took out a small vial full of red liquid.

Iris nodded slightly, still sniffling slightly and drowned the drink in one go. Oliver looked into her eyes and saw her pupils go back to their normal color and huffed out a breath of relief.

“Hey, you better now?” he asked gently.

“No.” she answered and Oliver could understand that. He just wished that Barry could think twice before he did something dumb like this again. It's as if anything Oliver taught him went through one ear and out the other.

“Understandable. Come on let's go.”he said gently before calling over a waiter to pay the check. Iris didn't protest like she usually would and just stood up and shivered slightly, her shirt dress and heels doing nothing to keep her warm. Oliver shrugged off his jacket and placed it around her shoulder.

“Can we go to star labs first? I left my laptop there by accident.” she said. Oliver nodded secretly elated that he was finally going to where he wanted Iris to be in the first place.

After Oliver had paid for all of Iris's drinks they quickly got into his limo and drove off. For the most part of it Iris was quite apart from the occasional hiccup and Oliver just kept bouncing his legs, nervous. With how bad the others had been he was sure it was going to be a complete disaster.

When they got to star labs Iris briskly walked in, wanting to get out of there as quick as possible and went straight to the Canteen

It was completely dark when they walked in and Oliver held his breath as Iris switched the light on.

“SURPRISE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY IRIS!!!!” Everyone screamed the moment the light was turned on. Iris jumped back, fear in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared as she saw the scene.

There was a huge banner that said ‘Happy birthday to Iris Ann West Allen’ in big, bright, bold colours and there were steamers all around along with cakes and candy all on plates. The normally pristine area was filled with so much decoration and there was a mounting of presents on a table at the corner of the room. Drinks were placed everywhere and all her friends where crowded around the front.

“Do you know how long I've waited?” asked Cisco as he sighed a sigh of relief. Oliver just shook his head thinking over and over that this was a bad idea.

“Iris?” Barry asked when he noticed his wife had gone silent. Everyone had turned to the small woman and they could see tears collecting in her eyes.

“So you aren't cheating on me?” she asked quietly. Everyone paused in their laughter and turned to stare at her. Why did she think that?

“What? Of course not, Iris! Why would you think that?” asked Barry speeding over to his wife and tilting her chin upwards. Oliver shook his head again and groaned quietly in his hands.

“You kept on ignoring me and when you did talk to me you sounded so cold and dismissive and you guys kept avoiding me and I saw you hang out with a pretty women and ignore my calls and I saw her kiss your cheeks and i-” Iris lost the battle with her tears and started sobbing in her husbands chest.

Over Barry's shoulder, Oliver could see everyone's guilty and ashamed faces.

“Iris, baby, I so desperately wanted to tell you about this but they wouldn't let me talk to you. They even had to lock me over on Cynthia's earth just to keep me quiet. I so desperately wanted to call you and give you all the attention you deserve but they took my phone away and knocked me out.” said Barry to his wife, soothing her doubts away. Well, most of her doubts anyway. It'll take more than a few words.

“Oh.” she said quietly, but tears were still streaming down her face.

“We're so sorry Iris. But if Barry was cheating on you, which he isn't, I would never stand by him. I would tell you straight away and post every ugly picture I have of him in the Citizen.” said Kamilla, coming to her sister figure and giving her a hug.

“And plus, I would burn his face off.” added Allegra, joining into the hug.

Slowly everyone began giving Iris apologies and telling her one hundred percent that if Barry tried anything with her they would without a doubt, one hundred percent, end his existence.

By the end of it the only person not in the hug was Oliver but Iris fixed that soon enough by pulling out a blind arm and waving it around signalling him to come over and dragging him over.

“Now come on, birthday day girl! It's time for you to party and dance the night away!” cheered Sara pulling Iris to the dance floor and Iris let out a small giggle and soon mostly everyone was on the dance floor.

“How the fuck do I make this up to her?” Barry quietly asked Oliver, Kara and Kata

“It's going to take time. A few words can't change what she's thought about for a month. Therapy is a good idea and reminding her you love her every time you talk to her. And also, when throwing her a surprise party, don't you dare ignore her.” said Oliver. He had recently begun to see Iris as a sister and he wasn't going to stand around and see her upset.

“I mean I got her tickets to go to the best spa in America so I think it's best to think that maybe she needs a good day to relax with friends.” said Kate, as if she was challenging Oliver. Oliver just scoffed and smirked.

“Well I got her a free day to whatever thing she what's from the Queen beauty spa.” countered Oliver and before those two could get into a fight Kara stepped in between them.

“Oh, no, no, no. This day is Iris's special day and none of us is going to ruin it. We already ruined her month by making her think that Barry was going to cheat on her. So Barry, a way Iris could forgive you is if you put your speed to use.” said Kara not realising the double meaning to it until Oliver and Kate cracked up. “Oh, shut it.” she snapped.

“Anyway, what Kara said. You're practically a human vibrator. Put that to use for her birthday gift and make sure she stays happy. After that we're all going to grovel at her feet like dogs for ruining her mental state.” Kara finally got out after she'd finished laughing.

“Couples dance!” yelled Cisco dragging Kamilla to the dance floor. Barry sped over to his wife and danced with her. Everyone's eyes were kept on the couple and they felt their eyes glisten. Those two have gone through so much, they deserved this little money between them.

The night was spent partying and dancing with Iris opening up presents and everyone apologising. The ones who couldn't get drunk kept an eye out for everyone. By the time the night was over Iris had happy tears in her eyes and most of her worries had subsided. Her feet ached and all she wanted was a night with her husband.

“Come on, let's go. Let me give you your present.” he whispered into her ear and she could see Kara blush bright red from where she was talking to Oliver and Kate.

“Yay.” she said quietly and he quickly picked her up bridal style and ran out with her. Iris faintly heard everyone calling them goodbye and she relaxed into her husband's chest.

He opened up their dorr and gently ran then to their bedroom and gently placed her on the bed.

“Let me show you just how much I love you, baby.” he whispered into her ear and Iris just nodded before gasping softly.

Maybe an entire month of worrying whether your husband was going to cheat on you wasn't good but Iris couldn't deny the after effect was very nice.

At least that's what she told herself when she woke up to her naked body sore all over and her husband's smug smirk.

[hi-itsminaya]

Potters have a thing for Gingers

In which Minerva McGonagall witnesses three generations worth of Potters and manages to stay sane.

Read on AO3

1955

“MIA! Your husband is back! Tell him to go away, I’m trying to work!” Minerva McGonagall shouted to her coworker, Euphemia Potter. The smile that broke out on the ginger woman's face was blinding as she ran up in her husband's waiting arms.

“Monty!”

“Mia, my love!”

As the two embraced Minerva turned her head to give them a little more privacy, she knew Euphemia missed her husband dearly while he was away, whether it be an Auror mission or a simple marketing trip for his newest potion.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be back so early! I thought I would only get to see you again next week!!” Euphemia took her husband face in her hands, running her thumbs under his eyes and pressing a kiss to lips.

“I wanted to surprise you!” Fleamont mumbled and went for another kiss until Minerva gave an uncomfortable cough behind them.

“Oh! Sorry Minnie!” Euphemia said, looking back to where Minerva was managing the paperwork floating through. “Oh put that down Minnie you deserve a bit of a break! Goodness you’ve been working none stop all week!”

“Well someone has to do it!” Minerva exclaimed as she continued to file through all the letters and reports “And you seem a bit… preoccupied”.

A light blush took upon Euphemia's cheeks just before Fleamont smacked a great big kiss on her cheeks causing her to let out a fit of giggles. Years worth of marriage only ever strengthen the love they felt for each other and they couldn't be more grateful.

“Lovely” Minerva rolled her eyes, knowing all too well that Fleamont just stole her coworker's attention for the rest of the day.

“Oh come on Minnie don’t be like that!” Fleamont chuckled, mischievous cleary lacing his voice. “I know deep down you missed me as well!”

“I thought I already told you, only Euphemia has my permission to call me such a childish nickname!” Minerva whirled around to look at the older man who was grinning like a teenage boy, happily holding his wife in his arms. “And for Merlin’s sake you two, this is a work zone! You two aren’t sixteen anymore!”

“We like to pretend we still are, isn't that right Mia?” He shot Euphemia a wink.

“Heavens Fleamont! Not here!” As much as she wanted to scowl him she couldn't help but laugh as her face went beet red.

“You two are impossible!” Minnie huffed, organising the last of the Auror Report and sending them off to the minister. “Absolutely impossible!”

“Oh come on now Minnie! You love us-” Fleamont started but was cut off when a big brown owl swooped into the room and landed right on his head sending Euphemia into another fit of laughter. It was holding a letter addressed to Minerva in its beak and Euphemia took the letter and handed the owl a treat before it was off again leaving Fleamont to dust off it’s remaining feathers.

“Minnie!! It’s from Hogwarts!!” Euphemia said excitedly, handing the letter to her friend.

“What! Really!” Minerva snatched the letter out of her hands. She ripped the seal and quickly began reading.

“Dear Miss McGonagall... “ She continued to read mumbling to herself as Fleamont and Euphemia stood next to her waiting for her to finish. They both knew the young witch had applied to Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardly for the transfiguration Professor position since Armando Dippet was no longer able to withhold both Transfiguration Prof. And Headmaster at the same time.

“... pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as the new Transfiguration Professor!!!” Minerva was shouting by the end, her voice filled with so much joy and excitement.

“YES!! We knew you could do it Minnie!!” Euphemia attacked her friend in a great bear hug. Minerva, who had long since learned Mia’a hugging tendencies, embraced her back with just as much force. She lifted her head just in time to see Fleamont poke his head out the door and shout.

“OI EVERYONE! MINNIE GOT THE JOB! SHE’S GOING BACK TO HOGWARTS!!” ---- 1960 Minerva McGonagall ran down the hall of St-Mungos as fast as she could, trying to reach the appointed room the medi-witch pointed her too. She dodged trolleys of potions and sick patients walking the halls, yelling a quick ‘sorry’ here and there until she finally arrived at the door to the room she was looking for and burst through.

“I’M HERE!!! I’m here! I’m sorry I’m- Oh my goodness”

Minerva was left speechless when she saw Euphemia Potter lying in the hospital bed holding a small little bundle wrapped in a blanket with Fleamont Potter sitting next to her, neither doing anything to stop the flow of tears streaming down their cheeks. Minerva slowly walked up to the couple, just enough to see a messy tuff of raven black hair poke out from the blanket.

“Minnie”

Minerva looked slowly raised her eyes off the small boy and met Euphemia’s. The poor dear looked absolutely exhausted yet as always she was smiling the most beautiful smile.

“Meet James Fleamont Potter.”

“Futur troublemaker and creator of all mischief!!”

“Monty!” Euphemia lightly swatted her husband on the shoulder but couldn’t help but laugh.

“Can I hold him?” Minerva asked quietly.

Fleamont gently took the baby from Euphemia and handed him to Minevra and just as he placed him in her arms he let out a little sneeze causing her heart to melt even more.

“Oh my goodness, he’s so precious.”

“I think that’s the closest shes ever come to complimenting me” Fleamont joked, sending Mia in a fit of giggles. As easy as it was to please Euphemia, only her husband could ever make her laugh so much.

“We both know I was talking about your son, Fleamont” Minerva knew better than to participate in his childish games but, and she would never admit this out loud, she did find his jokes rather funny at times.

“Just look at him! He’s the exact carbon copy of me!” It was true, little James was barely two hours old and it was perfectly clear that he would look like his father’s clone. What with the entire tuff of raven hair already on his head, not a strand of his mothers ginger hair in sight.

“Merlin let this child be more like Euphemia then you!” Minerva let out exasperated.

“I hope so too! I didn’t spend nine months baking him only to make a second Monty! Merlin knows we only need one to drive us crazy” Euphemia teased lightly, pressing a kiss to her husband's cheek. Fleamont wrapped an arm around her and held her close to him. Merlin did he ever love this woman, he loved her with everything he had.

“Mia, look, look at his eyes” Minnies gasped, handing the baby back to his mother.

“They’re-” Fleamont started.

“Hazel…! “ Mia quietly whispered for her husband, marvelling at the two multicoloured orbs that were curiously staring up at her. It was the first time little James opened his eyes wide enough for the world to see they’re colour and Mia marvelled at the pair of them. “Monty… his eyes! They’re hazel!”

“Just as beautiful as yours, my love” He said quietly, pressing a kiss on her lips and then another on little James’ head.

McGonagall looked at the new little family and couldn’t help but smile. The couple who had long wished for a child finally got what they deserved; the most beautiful, healthy baby boy. Minnie could practically see the love they had for each other radiating off the couple and they’re newborn in waves.

______________________ 1977

Minerva McGonagall sat in the stand for the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw match, watching happily as James Potter scored yet another goal for the Gryffindor team. If she thought he looked like his father as a toddler, that was nothing compared to right now. He was the exact carbon copy of his father, personality and all. The sense of mischief and adventure ran through his veins but he had the mother hen nature of his mum as well as her eyes. James Fleamont Potter could not have been a more perfect combination of Fleamont and Euphemia.

“AND GRYFFINDOR WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP!!”

Minerva was snapped out of her thoughts by the hundreds of cheers coming from the stands, watching as the entire Gryffindor house spreads into the Quidditch pitch congratulation their players. Her eyes cough one particular ginger girl who was running up at full speed into the arms of waiting boyfriend. The couple looked so similar to Fleamont and Euphemia that Minnie had to look at the two a second time to make sure it wasn’t them. She laughed internally at the irony, Merlin, Potter’s surely had a thing for gingers.

As Minerva got up from the stand to make her way down to the pitch, her mind was racing with memories from her time with Mia and Monty. It was scary how much Lily and James resemble the older couple.

“James you were spectacular!!” Lily smiled up at him

“Well, obviously it was because I had my lucky charm cheering for me!” James winked at Lily, picked her up and spun her around. Lily let out a fit of giggles that sounded so similar to Euphemia, Minevra stopped dead in her tracks to compose herself.

“Oi! Lily! Stop hogging our captain!” Sirius Black yelled and attacked James in a great bear hug causing Lily to let go of him in a yelp.

“Sirius!!”

But Lily’s protest was cut short when Remus joined in the group hug as well and then Peter, then the whole thing just ended in a dog pile on the floor but none the less everyone found it hilarious.

When the rest of the Quidditch team joined in on the dog pile, McGonagall felt she had to intervene before the team ended up accidentally killing their captain.

“Alright! That’s enough! Up you get, all of you!” She waved her wand, gently lifting all the students off of the Marauders who were still lying on the ground laughing.

“Up you get Potter!”

“Aww Come on Minnie! We were just having a bit of fun!” The grin on his face was something Minerva was far too familiar with.

“Just because you won the Quidditch Cup doesn’t mean I won’t give you detention if you continue to call me such childish nicknames!”

The boy simply laughed knowing all too well she would never do such a thing considering he’s been calling her Minnie since he was a kid.

When he did eventually get up, the Quidditch cup was presented to the Gryffindor team and the Gryffindor house had never cheered louder, screaming with joy and pride for their team. McGonagall couldn’ help but smile, she felt an overwhelming feeling of joy flood through her both for her little Gryffindors and for the boy she considered her nephew. He had grown so much the past year and she could not be more proud of him. Granted she would never say such a thing out loud, a compliment like that would go straight to his head!

When the cup was handed to James he lifted it up in the hair causing everyone to scream even louder, then he handed it off to Sirius and gave Lily all of his attention, snogging her like there was no tomorrow.

“Merlin you two! This is a school zone, not your personal broom closet!”

“Sorry professor!!” ---- 1980 Minerva McGonagall was running down the hall of St-Mungos for the second time for similar reasons, she just received Owl that Lily Potter (née Evans) had given birth and she hated herself for missing it. She knew James would have wanted her to be there since his parents… couldn’t.

When she finally arrived at the correct room she gently knocked on the door and head a soft ‘come in’.

Minnie opened the door and stopped. For a moment, just one moment, she saw Euphemia and Fleamont Potter cuddling there newborn and she couldn’t stop the tear building in her eyes. She missed her friends dearly and would do practically anything to have them here to see their own child becoming a father.

After blinking a few times and wiping the tears that escaped her eyelids, she walked into the room and saw a very tired Lily giggling at her husband who was in an absolute daze holding his baby.

Lily looked up at her and smiled “Hello Professor” she whispered gently, “We’d like you to meet someone”

Minnie couldn’t take it, Lily Potter was simply too similar to Euphemia for her heart not to shatter into a million pieces. She tried desperately to compose herself but couldn’t control the flood of tears.

“Meet Harry James Potter”

James got up from where he was sitting next to Lily and slowly walked over to the woman his considered his Aunt, gently placing his son in her arms. McGonagall didn’t say a word, just stood there holding little James- No - little Harry in her arms and watched as James went to sit back down next to Lily, holding her tightly in his arms and whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

Bloody hell, she thought.

“Heavens, he’s perfect Lily, absolutely perfect” She told Lily who was smiling such a bright and blinding smile up at her.

“Thank you” Lily replied gratefully. “He was barely born an hour ago and you can already tell he’s the carbon copy of James”

“Our own mini Marauder!” James said proudly.

“Merlin forbid he turns out to be like you, James!” Lily teased lightly and Minerva thought faith wasn’t sure whether faith was being horribly cruel or terribly kind to her. Terribly cruel for creating to people so similar to her best friends, or terribly kind for letting her know hat they are indeed still with her.

As she continued to gently sway little Harry from side to side, the baby gave out a small coo and opened his eyes nice and wide for the world to see their colour.

“Oh Merlin…”

“What? What’s wrong?”

McGonagall handed the baby back to his parents and watched them marvel at the two emeralds starting up at them.

“His eyes! They’re green!” Lily was relieved to know her son had at least inherited something from her!

“As beautiful as emeralds, just like yours my love” James whispered, looking at Lily. The couple sat silently marvelling at the new little creation and Minevra quietly sat down in a chair, enjoying the peaceful silence until Sirius Black burst through the door with Remus and Peter following.

“We couldn't find Minnie! Merlin what’s taking so long for her to get her- Oh! Hello Minnie!! Did you see my new godson! Isn’t he great! Sirius rambled on.

As Sirius continues to chatters as Minnie greeted Remus and Peter who happily sat next to her. She notices the bags under all their eyes and couldn’t stop the overwhelming black hole she feels in her stomach. These kids were 19 and yet two of them were married and had a child and they were all fighting a war. A war no children should be fighting and challenges no nineteen year old should ever have to face. 

______________________ 2000

Minerva sat in the front row seat of the church, right before the altar. She watched as Harry Potter nervously wiped off the sweat on his forehead with a cloth that his best man, Ron Weasley, gave to him. She couldn't help but chuckle at the young man’s nervousness, his father had been the exact same at his wedding.

She let out a heavy sigh, this was a happy day filled with love and positive moments, this wasn't the day to be mourning the death of a couple to young to die, but instead to celebrate the union of one. Still, the heaviness in Minevra heart stayed as she watched Ginny Weasley walk down the aisle. As Ginny walked past her and Minnie could no longer see her face, she taught for a brief moment how much this young woman looked like Lily.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today…”

As the wedding continued, Minnie’s mind kept wandering back to James and Lily’s wedding, one she had also attended and couldn’t help but let out a little sob. Life was horribly unfair. Euphemia and Fleamont died just when James needed them the most, instead, leaving him to figure out how to be a father and survive a war all on his own. Then faith had to be even crueller and steal James and Lily from their son, their one-year-old baby forcing Harry to grow up in the most loveless and despicable house Minerva had ever seen. Yet despite all the horrible events from both wars, life carried on and now she got to witness the lastest Potter marry his own Ginger.

“Here” Molly Weasley said next to her, handing her a tissue “There is no shame in crying during a wedding”

“He’s grown so much, both of them have”

“Indeed” Molly agreed, her voice quivering. Her little baby girl was getting married. Molly never thought she would ever feel happiness after the death of her son yet here she was, smiling with absolute joy as she watched her little Ginny marry the man she loved. “They’re perfect for each other”

After a quick moment of silence between the two, Minnie let out a breath.

“They look so much like James and Lily…”

Molly looked up at McGonagall and saw that the older woman had tears in her eyes, a mixture of grief and happiness that burned her pupils. Molly took the elder woman’s hand in her’s and gave a light squeeze, a small action that meant the world the Minerva.

When the wedding came to an end and both Harry and Ginny said their “I do”, they sealed their marriage with a kiss and ran down the aisle with the crowd cheering around them. Hermione, Ron, Neville and Luna cheering louder than all the other guest. 

---- 2005

Minerva McGonagall sat in the waiting room of St-Mungos accompanied by the entire Weasley clan. They were all impatiently waiting for the arrival of Harry and Ginny’s first baby and they were all getting a little antsy.

“What if something’s wrong with the baby!! Or what if something goes horribly wrong!-”

“Molly dear, please, calm down. Everything will be fine. I’m sure the healer will be out any second now”

Right he was, mear seconds later the healer exited the room Harry and Ginny were currently in, giving them the ‘okay’ to enter. Of course, Molly was the first one to push herself through the door followed by her husband and the rest of their kids.

Minerva laughed as she slowly got up from her chair and made her way through the door. Molly was already holding the newborn, swaying him gently as he grabbed onto her finger with Arthur looking over her shoulder cooing at the baby.

“He’s perfect Gin-Gin, absolutely perfect” Molly whispered quietly as to not wake up the sleeping infant.

“Thanks, mum” Ginny replied tiredly, she was leaning against Harry's shoulder half asleep while Harry ran his finger through her hair, giving her a nice scalp massage and a kiss on her forehead.

“That’s our boy” He whispered gently in her ear causing the Ginny to smile.

“Could I hold him next, Harry?” Hermione Weasley (née Granger) asked.

“Oh me next!”

“No me!”

Eventually, everyone got around to holding the little boy, all giving their congratulations to the parents until it was finally Minnie’s turn to hold him.

“What are you going to name him?” Molly asked her daughter who was half asleep on her husband’s shoulder.

“Harry? You want to tell them?” Ginny tiredly asked, not having the energy for anything else.

Harry got up from his spot next to Ginny and took the baby from where he was sleeping in Molly’s arms, then he walked over to McGonagall and gently placed him in her arms.

“Professor, meet James Sirius Potter”

And just as he spoke those words, little James Sirius opened his eyes for the world to see and two teasing, mischievous hazel eyes sparkled up at Minerva, taunting her.

Minerva let out a half sob half laugh at the irony “Hello there James Sirius” to which the baby cooed back up at her all too knowingly.

As she handed the baby back to his father, she watched as Harry sat back down next to Ginny who immediately cuddled into his side and admired their new little boy. She thought about all the challenges and hardship both faced in the past years and was proud at what both had accomplished.

As she left the room an hour later claiming she had headmistress duties that needed he attention, she smiled, laughing while walking down the hall to the floo network.

‘Merlin’ she thought ’Potters certainly has a thing for gingers’

THE END!

---------------

Thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed!

[whumppile]

Could you write a spiderman fic of the part in civil war where peter gets knocked out by any man? Except maybe he was more injured than tony realized at first? Your writing is amazing!

Aw thank you I’m so glad you like my writing!! I absolutely can write that, and because my mind really ran away with this prompt it;s going to be multichapter! this is just the first chapter so I hope you like it? Please let me know what you think and I’ll try to have the rest up soon. It’s called “Casualty of war” and it will be posted on my other accounts too. 

……………

The fight was finally turning in their favour, as the giantguy began tumbling down; and Tony thought that maybe they would be able tocatch Cap and his psychotic boyfriend in time to stop them leaving. UntilPeters voice was cut off in the middle of his sentence.

“Yes! That was awesome! I-ugh!”

Tony heard the kid grunt as he was struck, and turned to seehim fly across the sky; no longer swinging safely, but falling to the hard,unforgiving, concrete.

He crashed into a stack of crates first, obliterating thembeneath him, before tumbling across the tarmac and landing curled on his side.His limbs were slightly askew, but he made no effort to get up or even move toa more comfortable position. He didn’t move at all.

Tony’s heart clenched painfully, as he held his breath,flying down to check on his newest recruit, while his mind screamed at him.

How could he be so stupid, as to bring a fourteen-year-oldinto a fight with the Avengers? Of course, the kid had caught a car without anyproblem, but this was a fight with other superheroes, ones that broke airplanesin half to hit people with. If he got hurt, it was on Tony, and he hadn’treally thought about that possibility till now.

He approached the sprawled figure on the ground, prayingthat he was okay, and called out as he crouched beside him.

“Kid, you alright?”

Peter immediately rolled over, hands coming up to protecthimself. Although he did a lousy job; his mask pulled half off, and littlepanicked noises falling from his mouth as he struggled.

“Get off me!”

Tony caught his wrists and pressed the flailing limbs toPeters chest. So, the baby Avenger wasn’t dead, but he certainly wasn’t allthere right now. He was trying to pull his wrists from Tony’s grasp, andalthough he was weaker than usual, he still had super strength, and Tony’sIron-Man suit provided the extra strength necessary to hold him still, as hetried to reassure him. “Same side. Hey, guess who? Hi.”

Peters glassy eyes, found his, and the kid let out arelieved sigh, sinking to the ground. “Oh, hey man. That was scary.” His voicewas shaky, and he stopped fighting Tony’s arms, exhausted.

Tony felt like sagging to the ground too, with how muchrelief was flooding through him. Peter was fine, a little banged up but nothinghe couldn’t handle and heal from within a day or two. He looked down at thekid, mask half off, and eyes not quite focussing, as he blinked themobnoxiously, obviously having trouble seeing.

Tony made a decision. “Yeah, you’re done.  Alright?”

Peters gaze flickered back to Tony and his hands came backup to try and grab onto the billionaire. “What?” He sounded so disappointed,and Tony knew that Peter would have gladly got back up to fight, had Tony askedhim. But he couldn’t risk the teenager getting hurt again, it was a bad idea tobring him in the first place.

“You did a good job.”

Peter began squirming, trying to get his feet under him sothat he could stand. “No, I’m good! I’m fine!”

Tony pushed the kid back down, trying to keep his voicelevel to hide how horrible he felt that the child in front of him, was sodesperate to please him, while so obviously hurt.

“Stay down.” He’d have Happy come pick him up or something,because as much as this was his fault, he still had to stop Cap.

“No, it’s good, I gotta get him back!”

Tony’s voice grew a notch harder, his concern showingthrough, because Peter couldn’t even fight his hands off anymore.

“You’re going home, or I’ll call Aunt May! You’re done.”

He couldn’t look at that disappointed, confused, face anylonger; he didn’t have time. Tony started walking away, as Peter continued tocall out.

“Mr Stark, wait! I’m not done, I’m not…” Tony was about tofly off, after his idiot friends, when Peter let out a grunt of pain. Tonycould hear the small thumps as Peter fell back to the ground after trying toget up, and he turned to watch him lay back down on the concrete.

The kid let out a tired breath, but Tony’s own chest seemedfrozen, because something was staining the tarmac.

It was seeping out from under Peter, slowly but surely,spreading out so that there was no questioning what it was. Blood; way too muchof it.

Tony raced back over, pressing his hands to Peter’sshoulders, to stop him moving, as he had Friday scan the kid for injuries. “Friday,give me a full report from the suit.”

Peter looked confused, but Tony’s voice was quick and hard.“Don’t move.”

The kid stilled, face screwing up into a wince, as Fridayrelayed her report. “I have detected a moderate concussion, three broken ribs,and a stab wound above his right hip. It is bleeding too fast, and needs to betreated immediately. Would you like me to send a med team?”

Tony could barely speak, at the sight of all that bloodflowing from Peters side. It wasn’t just a stab wound, the kid had beenimpaled, on a piece of metal that had likely come off the plane, when theTiny/Giant guy had ripped the wing off. He felt sick.

He managed to reply, but his voice wasn’t as stable as hewould have liked. “Yes, and find Rhodey, tell him I need him here.”

Rhodes had been in the military for long enough that he knewway too much about first aid in the field. He’d be able to help until themedics arrived.

Peter was looking up at Tony, confused. “Mr Stark, what’swrong? You should be fighting with the others.”

Tony shook his head, hands letting go of Peter to hover overthe metal sticking out from the kid’s side, unsure of how to put pressure onit.

“That doesn’t matter right now. I just need you to stayreally still, okay? Don’t move.”

Peter looked like he was about to say something else, whenthe sound of thrusters interrupted, War Machine flying towards them, andlanding on the concrete next to Tony.

The face plate lifted, and Rhodes looked a little sick. “Oh,shit Tony.”

Peter looked between the two men, as Mr Stark seemed to getmore panicked. “I know, just help him.”

A bad feeling creeped into Peters stomach, and although hishead was a little fuzzy, and thoughts came slower than they should, he knewsomething was wrong.

Rhodes stepped out of the War suit, and came to kneel besideTony, hands hovering over Peters side. What were they staring at? Why did MrStark look so pale?

Peter lifted his head off the ground, ignoring the way itmade everything seem to spin. Tony pressed against his shoulder again, tryingto get him to lay back down.

“Don’t look, kid!”

But it was too late, Peter saw it. It didn’t make sense atfirst, his brain couldn’t turn the colours and shapes into anything withmeaning, because how could the glint of metal be coming from his side? Why wasthe ground red?

But it all seemed to crash together at once, and hecarefully laid his head back down on the concrete, feeling dizzier and more outof it than he had before.

“Mr Stark?”

Tony’s face was creased in concern as he looked at theteenager. “Yeah?”

Peters voice was small and thin, as he looked up at the bluesky swirling above him. “I think I’m done fighting, now.”

Tony nodded, and sucked in a shaky breath. “You’ll be okay,we’ll fix this. I’ll fix this.”

Rhodes was still assessing Peters side, rolling up hissleeves and deciding on the best course of action. He spared a glance towardshis friend. “You good? I need you to keep your cool here, Tony.”

The mechanic nodded, hands still pressing against Petersshoulder and chest, in case he decided to move again.

Now that Peter knew there was metal sticking out from him,it started to hurt. Like, really hurt. He could feel the blood sliding down hisside to his back, making the suit stick to his skin; the wrongness of his fleshand muscle being forced apart by the shrapnel. It ached, and burned and hurt. His breaths began coming in pants,and he couldn’t stop the small whimpers that fell from his mouth, because hewas scared.

Rhodey pulled his over-shirt off, balling it up and tearingstrips from it, as more noise invaded Peters awareness.

“That’s not like you, to just fly off in the middle of a fi-“ His voice stopped abruptly, though Peter knew it to be the Falcons. And thenhe said what everyone else had. “Shit.”

Rhodey looked up for only a second, but all the tension fromthe fight dissipated in an instant.  “Steve said you were in the army. You rememberyour first aid training?”

Sam nodded and stripped off his wings as quick as he could,kneeling next to the other men on the ground. “Yeah, I remember. What have wegot?”

Rhodes frowned down at Peters side. “Shrapnel; I need tostabilize it, and he fell a pretty good distance so-“

Sam rolled up his sleeves as he nodded, finishing hissentence. “I’ll take care of everything else. Full assessment. There a med teamcoming?”

This time it was Tony that answered, voice thin. “Yeah, myown team. They shouldn’t be long.”

Sam took a place on the other side of Peter and looked downat him. “How you doing there, kid?”

Peter didn’t know what else to say. “It hurts.”

Sam nodded, and carefully slipped Peters mask off. “I know,just keep breathing nice and even. Everything’s okay.”

Peter tried to do as he was told, as more footstepsapproached, and then a voice. “God, how old is he? Is that…is that metal comingout of him?”

Peter didn’t know that voice, but Sam spoke as if he knewhim. “Scott, we’re trying to keep-“ He paused, not knowing the teenagers name.Tony supplied it, and Sam kept going.

“Peter.”

“Right. We’re trying to keep Peter calm. Why don’t you goget as many blankets as you can from the plane you ripped apart, and any firstaid gear, you find. And hurry. Tony, I need you to come over here and holdPeters head steady.”

Both men did as they were told, and Peter felt like maybehe might be okay, because they seemed to know what they were doing.

Tony stepped from the Iron-Man suit and carefullysteadied Peters head so that it wouldn’t move. Sam began talking as his handsmoved over Peter, expertly checking everything over.

Friday had already given them a status report on Petersinjuries, but Sam wanted to make sure, and carefully ran his hands acrossPeters head, neck, and chest, searching for any missed damage that could causethem trouble.

“Tell me if this hurts.” He pressed and pulled at variousparts of Peter, shoulders, ribs, legs, neck, stomach. He didn’t find anythingthat Friday had already warned them about, but by the end of it, Sam wasworried, because Peter was becoming less and less responsive.

“Peter? Buddy, I need you to answer me.” Tony noticed thefrown on Falcons face as the teenager tried to reply, but all they got was agroan.

“Hnnngg…” His eyes refused to focus, and they blinked soslowly, Tony questioned whether they would open again, every time they closed.

Scott had come back with the blankets and first aid kitfast, and Rhodes was stacking bandages and torn up bits of blanket around the pieceof metal, trying to get the bleeding under control, but it just wouldn’t stop.

“When’s the med team coming? I can’t get a handle onthis, he’s bleeding out too fast.”

Sam placed two fingers at Peters wrist, frown deepening. “Heartrates low, and his breathings not looking good. He’s going into shock. Scott handme those blankets and lift his feet a little, but try not to jostle him toomuch.”

Peter didn’t seem to notice much now, reacting only withsoft moans and whimpers when moved or pressed against too hard. Scott wrappedblankets around the kid, while Sam peered into Peters glassy eyes.

“I’m really not liking the look of this head injury. Howmany times was he hit?”

Tony didn’t want to think about it, but knew it could beimportant. Scott answered, as he held Peters feet in his lap. “I saw Stevesmack him into one of those plane walk-way thingies, and then he bounced offthe concrete pretty hard, so I’d say a couple times just from that. Oh, Stevealso hit him in the face with his shield, but he got up real fast afterwards.”

Tony looked down at Peters pale face. “Then you knockedhim into the ground.”

Sam sighed. “I also had my drone throw him through awindow.”

Tony swallowed thickly. God, that was like four or five decenthits to the head, all in such a small amount of time, no wonder he was so outof it.

Everyone’s attention was dragged away from Peters head,when Rhodes cursed under his breath, hands dripping blood and scrambling for anothershred of blanket or jacket to tie the bandages to Peters side with.

“It just won’t stop, why isn’t it stopping?”

Sam looked at the mess of blood, words falling from hismouth without him seeming to realize he was saying anything at all. He’d seentoo many friends bleed out in the dirt, but now it was a kid, too young and tooinnocent to deserve any of it.

“If he falls asleep, we’ll lose him.”

Tony didn’t think he could take anymore statements like that,and he gently rubbed his thumbs across Peters temples, where his hands werestill holding Peters head steady. “Hold on buddy, just keep looking at me.Peter? Focus, kid.”

Those eyes were slow, but Peter dragged his blurry gazeto the face above him, but by the time he managed to find his mouth and make itmove, the face was leaving; the warm hands on him, being replaced by something hardand restrictive.

There was a lot of noise, and more hands than there hadbeen before. Bits of words leaked into Peters brain, but he couldn’t decode thesounds into words or meaning.

“-C collar on him and lets- “

“-more bandages, this isn’t holding.”

“Blood pressures dropping, we need to get moving.”

“-surgery now or we’ll lose him.”

He didn’t know any of the voices, anymore, and the handskept moving him around and sticking sharp things into his hands and arms.  But he was too tired to move, even when hefelt straps pull tight across his chest, holding him down to something hard.

The strange thing was, he didn’t feel scared anymore, andthe pain wasn’t so bad. The noises grew louder, something whirring and pulsing,churning air and sound around him. He felt himself moving, and he knew thatsome part of his brain was telling him to stay awake, but he was too tired.

His eyes closed, and he felt as if his mind was swirlingdown a drain; disappearing into nothingness.

……………

Tony rode in the helicopter with him as they transportedPeter to the nearest medical facility available. It was a private militarybase, that was fully operational but quiet, and thankfully close enough that itwas safe to transport Peter there.

But his condition only worsened on the trip over. Thebleeding was out of control; with one of the medics shouting about bloodvessels that must have been nicked, and if that wasn’t enough, Peter was nolonger waking up. He wasn’t responding to pain, and his breathing had begun toslow so much he had an ambu bag over his nose and mouth, with one of the medicsrhythmically squeezing it to pump air into his mouth.

The medics voices were muffled in the loud helicopter. “He’sunresponsive and I’ve got decreased breath sounds on the right; lungscollapsing. I think the broken ribs have shifted and punctured it. Call aheadfor immediate intubation on arrival.”

He was slipping away, and there wasn’t anything that Tonycould do.

He followed closely behind the gurney that Peter wasstrapped to, as they wheeled it inside the base, but he couldn’t follow themthrough the OR doors. He had to stand, shaking, in the hall praying that he hadn’tjust got a teenager killed.

 ( PLease let me know what you think? I know a lot of it isnt done very well but I have some ideas for the next chapter which I’m excited about)

[embracetheapocalypsewithme]

Irrational Fears

So, to deal with my anxiety over tomorrow’s issue, I wrote up my contribution for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s Fall into Negan Challenge. My prompt was “Scary Movies”, and I went full on narcissistic rampage by doing a self-insert. I regret nothing. Enjoy!

Summary: Negan catches his newest wife, Bridget, watching a horror movie in his bed. After some tension she gets him to watch it with her and inadvertently reveals a closely-kept secret about her fearless leader.

Word Count: 1,626

Warnings: Light smut, mention of animal cruelty, language

Irrational Fears

“Why the fucking fuck do you watch this shit anyway?”

Bridget’s eyes flashed up from the TV screen in front of her, the reflected colours of the movie’s images dancing across her features in the darkened room. Her eyebrows furrowed a little bit as she regarded the large, leather-jacketed man looming over her spot on the plush bed.

“It’s not ‘shit’; it’s entertaining. And I love horror movies…have since I was a child.”

“Yeah, but why? The world’s fucking horrifying as it is, so why watch more scary shit?” his eyes flitted between the brunette taking up residence in his bed and the screen.

“I guess it’s an escape? To kind of…immerse yourself in someone else’s problems for a while? To feel concerned about something other than your own shitty life? Or something like that. I don’t know! It’s like…roller coasters!”

“What? In what fucking way?”

“You know, some people love them and others hate them, and it’s hard for the people who love them to make the people who hate them understand why they love them…” she trailed off for a moment, “Anyway! You’re making me miss half the movie. Are you gonna sit down and watch with me or not?”

Negan shrugged and stripped off his jacket before tossing it aside and hopping onto the bed beside his newest wife. The motion caused the mattress to bob up and down like a boat going over a wave for a moment. Bridget pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her annoyance.  

“So, what the fuck are we watching today?”

“It,” she replied simply.

“It what? Finish your sentences, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be condescending,” her tone lowered for a moment before lightening again, “It is the name of the movie. It’s about this creepy entity that tries to kill a bunch of kids, and it can take on any form it wants so it chooses to be a scary fucking clown. It’s got Tim Curry in it!”

Her final words were lost as Negan hurriedly grabbed the remote control from her lap and clicked off the TV.

“Nope! No fucking way! Fuck that noise right in the motherfucking ear!”

“What? What do you have against Tim Curry? Are you afraid of how good he looks in a corset?” the younger woman teased.

“No, it’s not fucking Tim Curry. He was a beautiful man.”

“Damn straight!” she interjected.

“I just hate…uh…I hate…fucking…period pieces! This is set in the 50s, right?”

Bridget’s eyes narrowed, “Yes. Yes it is. But that was a way more violent reaction than was necessary for a period piece aversion. Are… youuuu afraid of clowns…or something?”

“No! What? No, I’m fucking not!”

“Yes you are! I figured it out! You’re terrified of clowns!”

“Bridget. Baby. Come on. How the fuck am I going to be a big fucking bad-ass, cracking skulls and fighting walkers all day, and be afraid of a fucking clown?” he grinned down at her, but his eyes still darted around her face, giving the impression of uncertainty.

“Ok then,” she replied coolly, “Then you won’t mind if I finish my movie.”

“Go right the fuck ahead,” he crossed his arms over his broad chest defiantly.

“Great!”

Grabbing the remote control, Bridget clicked the film back on. They sat side by side on the bed, watching in silence. She felt Negan relax next to her as nothing much was happening on the screen; the movie could have been a typical coming of age drama at this point. Eventually there came a scene with a young boy taking a shower after gym class. Tense music started up, building the suspense until the floor of the shower stall crumbled upward to allow the killer clown to appear.

Negan shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to her, and she thought that she heard him groan softly. Ignoring this, the smaller woman continued to watch the scene unfold, but her attention was partially diverted by her viewing partner’s squirming.

Now Pennywise was taunting the boy, telling him about all of the terrible things he would do to him and his friends once he caught up to them. Was it her imagination, or could she feel Negan shudder a little beside her?

The pinnacle of the scene’s scare was the head of the clown bobbing downward for a moment, with only the top of his red hair visible. After a few seconds his face rose to confront the viewer, but now his eyes were amber-coloured and his mouth was full of sharp, yellowed fangs.

The creature emitted a terrifying sound and the boy on the screen screamed. At the very same moment Negan grabbed the remote once more to turn the movie off in a flurry of explicatives.

“I knew it!” Bridget poked the man in one of his muscular arms, “You are afraid of clowns!”

“No! I just don’t-“

“Just admit it. There’s no shame in it. Everyone has irrational fears.”

“No, that’s not what this is about!” he raised his voice, doubling down on his assertion, “This is about watching stupid, fucking scary shit in a world that’s basically a horror movie anyway. What kind of weirdo fucking does that shit?”

Bridget felt her face redden at his words and wanted to fire back at him, but stayed as calm as possible, “Yeah, I bet that’s totally what this is all about. Your concern that I’m a fucking weirdo. Really, Negan? Really?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, turning away slightly.

“Fine. Then I’m a fucking weirdo. Probably some kind of sick psychopath who likes to kill animals or something awful likes that, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Ok,” she sat silently fuming, her feelings bruised at the implication that she wasn’t a good person for enjoying a stupid horror flick.

“Hey. You ok?”

“I’m fine,” she said simply.

“No you fucking aren’t. You’re pouting. I can see it even in the dark.”

“Yeah, well, you basically just called me a bloody psycho for watching a movie, so it’s whatever. I’ll just go.”

She started to get off of the bed, but felt one of Negan’s strong hands grip her wrist.

“Don’t go. I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean to be a fucking prick to you.”

She turned toward him in the dark, taking in his features, seeking signs of true remorse. His eyes had softened and he was giving her an apologetic look.

“Why are you so defensive about a stupid movie?” she asked, melting a little at his handsome features.

“Ok. Fucking fine. You got me. I fucking hate clowns!”

“So. You were just being an asshole to distract me from how you nearly pissed yourself during that last scene?”

He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, “Yes. I guess you could say that… Fuck those red-nosed fucking ghouls! Who needs shoes that fucking big anyway?”

Bridget giggled, taking her place beside him once more, “Right? And why are they always smiling so much? What’s so funny? What do they know about that we don’t?”

She felt Negan relax again and a nervous chuckle rumbled up from his chest as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Now you under-fucking-stand!” he paused in thought for a moment, “Gotta make you promise not to fucking blab about this to any of the wives, or…really…anyone. Wouldn’t look very bad-ass for me to be afraid of a fucking clown, now would it?”

“Oh, your secret is safe with me…as long as you do something for me first…To make up for being such a jerk” she replied slyly.

“Are you fucking blackmailing me?” his eyes widened.

“In a sense. But don’t worry,” she leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “It’s the fun kind of blackmail.”

“Is that fucking right?”

“Mmm-hmm…” she turned over in bed and perched on her hands and knees before climbing on top of the reclining man and straddling his thighs.

“Well, hell-fucking-o there,” Negan’s eyes squinted as he smiled up at her and bounced his legs against the bed, causing her to bob on his lap.

Bridget brought her arms up to loop around his neck as she leaned in for a deep kiss, before running her hands across his shoulders and down his arms, finally coming to rest at his wrists. She gripped them, her small hands barely able to close fully around, and firmly pinned them at his sides.

“We’re gonna play a game.”

“I like this game already. What’s it called?”

“It’s called ‘I Blow You and You Keep Your Fucking Hands Right Here’,” she punctuated this last point by pressing down on his wrists, “Do I need to explain the rules?”

“No, ma’am!”

He smirked at her and Bridget could feel him rapidly hardening in his pants. Negan always did like it when she bossed him around in bed, and it was something at which she was getting quite adept. She slid a hand to his crotch, rubbing him slightly through the denim before planting another deep kiss on his lips. She broke away just a little too soon and Negan tried to lean in to continue.

“Are you gonna play by the rules, or am I going to have to punish you like last time?” she chided, clenching her thighs around his.

“Hmm. We’ll have to see how nice that mouth of yours feels first.”

“That was the wrong answer, but I’ll let it slide the first time. Everyone gets one.”

“Guess I’ll have to try harder to piss you off then, huh?”

“We’ll just have to see…” she said, sliding down his body and finally coming to rest between his legs where she peered up at him with large eyes, “Ready for round one?”

“You fucking know I am!”

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #158 - Charlie and Elliot’s First Birthday

Not a prompt. But, something I’ve been thinking about for a little while. This is from a wider part of the Charlie and Elliot Universe but with a very small ‘free-time’ schedule at the moment I’m giving you part of it, with very little context. 

I wanted to write a reunion fic for Charlie and Elliot. Where Owen had gone away for some time and came back; the only reason I could see Owen leaving (because he wouldn’t) would be because the military owned his ass and with the amount it cost to conceive Elliot (medical intervention, why are you so expensive??) Owen and Claire weren’t entirely in the best of financial situations. So, he caved. 

This is Owen coming home. I will write more about his decision to leave - at some point. It’s not going to be fun. Charlie is a little more than distraught with the news. Poor Claire stuck with kids that still scare the crap out of her for six months.

Also my supervisor said fanfic has made me lazy in my writing - which is so true ... also why I’m struggling to write like myself because goddamn I let go of so many rules here. 

AO3 - C&E index

CHARLIE AND ELLIOT’S FIRST BIRTHDAY

It was spring, the warm sun finally breaking free of winter’s clutches to kiss their skin and grace the yard with flowers. It was fitting, for Elliot, the girl’s birthday upon them as Easter arose across the globe. The long-weekend was savoured in bed; Claire curled up with her girls, an endless pile of books and some of her favourite childhood movies. The sun came out just in time for Elliot’s party, nothing spectacular for her first celebration, just family and the garden, bright colours and sweet cakes.

It all seemed too cheerful for Claire’s mind space. She was trying not to be distracted, eyes drifting to her phone on occasion, waiting for the screen to light up with a message from her husband. His absence was breaking her final resolve. They did everything they could for Elliot, Owen was still doing it, working a job that kept him from home just to make sure they were secure again. But, missing his child’s first birthday was a line he couldn’t cross back over with an apology. It wasn’t even for Elliot; the girl wouldn’t remember beyond the pictures they were bound to show her as she grew. It was for Owen. He already couldn’t forgive himself for missing it, but there was nothing he could do.

Charlie was in her grandmother’s veggie patch, shorts covering her skinny legs as she played with a truck along the garden beds. She was laughing, her toys stuck in a fantastical game as the sound warmed the air along with the sun.

‘He’s going to be home soon, right?’ Lorna was the first one to broach the subject of Owen, sitting around her mother’s outdoor dining table, set and covered in every colour under the rainbow. Claire nodded, movement short as her arms readjusted their hold on Elliot. The birthday girl, herself, was curled in her mother’s lap like the infant she had been six months ago, nursing lazily like she had become so custom to. It was more than just the newfound spring sun that was making the girl warm to touch and lethargic, her attention barely on her mother let alone the people around them. They made it through winter with a few sniffles, nothing more than a single cough. Claire thanked the flu vaccine’s she’d tortured her children with for actually working. Elliot was not breaking free that easily and if she fell, Charlie was sure to follow. Dread filled Claire’s stomach. The last thing she wanted was sick children with no Owen there to help. His mother and father were on board for anything Claire needed, the two of them only a ten-minute drive away. She wanted her husband home, no longer left dependent on co-parenting with her in-laws.

Claire watched Elliot, her hand gently brushing the girl’s short hair from her forehead. ‘Next month, hopefully.’ He was supposed to be home already, three weeks ago but the task got pushed back. She still wasn’t talking to him about that. Owen agreed on the silence of the topic; he was just as mad. There was nothing they could do. He missed being there for Christmas, having to settle for watching his daughters open their presents through Skype. That should have been indicator enough that his employees were relentless.

He was doing it for them. Claire kept trying to tell herself. She asked him to turn down the job when it was offered, Owen explaining it to her quietly one night as she climbed into bed. He swore to her, the very night she told him she was pregnant the first time that he wouldn’t leave her for anything. There he was, propositioning to leave for four months on a military-run expedition, purely because they called him. Owen wasn’t wrong. They needed the money. Conceiving Elliot cost them more than Claire liked to admit and although they had enough to keep the mortgage paid, it wouldn’t last them long. She was powerless. They both hated the position it put them in.

‘It’s gonna be over before you know it.’ Lorna grinned, offering a supportive smile. Claire couldn’t help but return the expression, slight smile climbing her cheeks, worry still clouding her eyes. ‘Besides, he’s not going anywhere again after this.’ She laughed, knowing her brother too well and seeing how poorly distance worked between him and his family. They were all falling apart and desperate to be back together again.

Charlie wandered over, bored of her game, to momentarily squeeze herself between the arm of her mother’s chair and that of her aunt’s small arm reaching across the table for the party snacks Heather had laid out. The young girl filled her hands, party pies and crisps stacked on top of a sandwich as she eyed off her cousin on the other side of the table. Travis’ three-year-old, Ezra only grinned, sitting on a seat by himself, plate stacked with food in front of him. Charlie stuck her tongue out, the action quick but not quick enough.

‘Charlie Mae!’ Claire scolded, causing her daughter’s head to turn, the five-year-old indignant. ‘We don’t do that, baby, okay. You like Ezra.’ Charlie shrugged, offering her mother a ‘sometimes’ as she handed a biscuit to her sister. Henry chuckled, eyes squeezed shut with laughter. Claire turned a glare to Owen’s father, finding the whole table, in giggles - even Karen who had been sitting beside her, quiet, texting the newest flavour to entertain her hours. Charlie’s peculiar sense of humour might have amused them all, but Claire knew she had a terror on her hands, the little girl only learning to grow out of control when everyone around her thought she was funny.

Elliot sat up, finished with her comfort of nursing once Charlie had arrived, reaching for food around her. Claire didn’t think she had much in regards to breastmilk, her baby having asked for the action in an attempt to soothe her rising temperature. With her sister’s reminder that food was at the table, she was far more interested; sweaty cheek pressed to Claire’s chest.

She was thankful for the sundress, resurrected from her cupboard, instead of the warm winter clothes they had all been clinging onto. Warm baby mixed with the sun and Claire would have been a puddle if they sat outside any longer.

‘When do we get cake?’ Charlie asked, mouth full of chips as she looked up at her aunt, knowing Lorna would have the answers.

‘Can you say ‘cake’, Elle?’ Lorna asked, leaning into her niece as Charlie turned to watch her sister. Elliot raised an eyebrow at the question, one hand holding a biscuit flat to her mouth as the other had her fingers wound around the strap of Claire’s dress. ‘I know you know ‘cake’. What about ‘presents’?!’ Lorna raised her voice, filling it with excitement as Charlie grinned, aiding in her aunt’s visual and audible attempt to elicit more than a weak response from the birthday girl.

All the kids loved Lorna, whether they were her nieces or nephews. No matter their temperament, they flocked to her like she was the Pied Piper, ready to lead them astray. Elliot, today, was not having it.

‘You know,’ Charlie started, the whole table turning their attention towards her as her small hand raised above Lorna’s bent head. ‘I can have Elle’s presents, ‘cause we live in the same spot, so it don’t matter if she gets them or not.’

Claire sighed immediately in response, hand almost scrubbing at her face. Lorna chuckled, kissing her niece’s cheek. ‘Not how it works, bug.’ She winked at Claire, showing the woman she could do more than just laugh at Charlie’s antics. ‘Are you sure everything’s alright?’ Lorna asked, leaning in a little closer to lower her voice. Claire nodded, with a heavy exhale, bangs jumping with the force of her breath.

It was warm out, warmer than they were used to as of late and the baby in her lap wasn’t helping. Claire was mildly concerned that she was coming down with the same rosy cheeks as Elliot, just thinking of the girl’s potential illness making Claire feel woozy.

Without asking, Lorna plucked Elliot from her mother’s lap, lifting the girl over Charlie’s head before settling her, already trying to distill the scrunched up look of dissatisfaction on the infant’s face. Claire smiled, reaching for Elliot’s hand, squeezing it softly as she made a face, amusing her daughter despite no longer holding her. She wanted to take the free minute to call Owen, nerves climbing her vertebrae with each passing hour. There was no opportunity to leave the table when Heather announced the cake was ready, launching into happy birthday.

‘Quick, sit with granddad, he gets the best bit of cake.’ Lorna whispered loudly, nudging at Charlie’s shoulder as the little girl ran, squealing, for her granddad. She climbed into his lap, readily, just in time to watch the glow of birthday candles shine across her sister’s face for the first time.

All eyes were on Elliot, the infant amused with the bright colours and warm light in front of her, Lorna bouncing the girl on her knee as her grandparents, uncle, and aunts sung her first happy birthday. Phone in hand, camera open as she took pictures blindly, Claire was too busy to notice the hands that settled on her shoulders, or the familiar kiss placed on the top of her head. If it wasn’t for his loud ‘make a wish, Elle’ at the end of the song, Claire might have missed him altogether. She didn’t think he was real, mind and body catching up as she recognised the sound of his voice.

Claire jumped, body moving from her chair as she spun, her eyes landing on the rugged travel weary face of her husband for the first time in four months. ‘Oh my god,’ she sighed, the sound barely passing her lips as her hands covered her mouth before falling to her sides. ‘Oh my god!’ It took Claire a second to realise she was stuck between her chair and the table, before she climbed over the seat, throwing herself at Owen who only caught her with gusto, hands sliding under her ass as her legs locked around his waist. ‘You’re home; you’re home, you’re home.’ She practically chanted between kisses, her hands on his face.

‘Surprise!’ He grinned, pulling himself from her kiss only to flash a shit-eating grin. The table cheered, most in disbelief that he was there as Elliot shoved a hand in her cake when all eyes were turned away. ‘Home for good, baby.’ He promised her, giving her one last long peck before he loosened his grip, bending slightly to set her down.

Charlie had been crying the second everyone realised he was there, voice almost a scream as she shouted for him. Henry had held onto her tightly, giving Claire and Owen a minute before the girl was unleashed, knowing full well that Charlie would not let go the second she had ahold of her father. Claire and Owen needed their minute because it would be days before they had guilt-free time to themselves.

‘Hey, don’t cry!’ He scooped Charlie up easily, large thumbs wiping at her little cheek before he pulled Claire back into his embrace, noticing the tears in Claire’s eyes as well. ‘I’m home, that’s happy, not sad.’ Charlie nodded, head buried in his neck muttering that she was happy but the sad couldn’t help it.

Lorna pulled herself from the table, Elliot in tow, fistfuls of cake in her hand. ‘You’re missing one!’ She announced, before handing her over one of the adults attaching her to their hip. It was hard to tell what was Claire and what was Owen, what was a mixture of the two of them in their genetics displayed in their children. The Dearing-Gray’s had melded themselves into a cluster. ‘Try not to overtake her birthday too much, bro.’ Lorna offered with a laugh, right as Elliot stuck her cake covered hand in the centre of her father’s face. Owen roared, laughter filling every nook and cranny of his being, as Elle’s face turned red, scrunching into a ready to blow scream at the man she didn’t recognise.

‘Not you too, baby.’ He crouched, dropping to his knees in front of his wife to balance Charlie on his hip without worry that he would drop her. The girl had a koala grip when it concerned him. Nevertheless, Owen wanted to eliminate the number of tears taking place that morning. On Claire’s hip, Elliot’s cries started to wobble, a hand clinging to the strap of her mother’s dress for dear life as the other shoved at his face. ‘I don’t think she remembers me.’ He offered Claire with a frown around the infant’s fingers.

Claire should have known to expect that. With no warning of his return, she had no time to prepare. It wasn’t like Owen ceased to exist in the six months he was gone. He called, every opportunity he had, Skype was used more frequently than Claire initially anticipated, Charlie, hogging the computer when her father called. Elliot was a baby, six-months-old when he left. All interaction she had with her father from then on was hearing his voice on the phone as Claire hid a call from Charlie, hiding herself away in a quiet corner of her home to nurse the infant who wouldn’t tattle. She was young; they couldn’t ask her to remember a face that wasn’t present.  

Owen wasn’t accepting her small memory, taking the girl with one hand from Claire as he held a child on each hip. Charlie grunted at the shared attention, both arms locked tightly around his neck. She wasn’t letting go, not now, not anytime soon.

‘C’mon, there’s cake waitin’, and I am starved.’ He squeezed Charlie, taking a deep breath before he tried to stand, it had been six months since he tried to stand with two children in his arms and before then he had barely any practice. Charlie and Elliot didn’t like to be held in tandem. He got back to his full height with ease, Claire hovering beside him, arms ready to catch the baby he was bound to drop. He settled in the chair his wife vacated, Charlie curling into his chest as Elliot continued to cry. ‘Hey Ma, can we relight this?’ Owen asked, searching the faces of the group each of them watching him in awe. Lorna knew he was coming home, his sister sitting back in her chair along with his father. Heather knew, squeezing the life out of him when he walked in the door, half paranoid that someone was going to step into the kitchen and catch the surprise before it was announced. He wanted to creep up on Claire, to catch her at the moment when she least expected it.

Heather nodded, pulling a lighter from her pocket, the mother of three - and grandmother of just as many - was ready to fix candles in case of emergency. She kissed her son’s head, readily lighting the candles on Elliot’s cake as Owen tried to cheer the girl up, bouncing her on his knee. Elliot fought her emotions, Claire sliding into the chair Lorna gave her, watching her child carefully as she struggled.

‘Okay,’ Claire sighed, smile still clinging to her cheeks. ‘You’ve tortured her enough.’ She laughed, unable to watch the nervous look on Elliot’s face as the little girl gnawed on her fingers, looking to everyone for escape. Claire took her easily, sliding the girl into her lap as she moved closer to Owen already missing his warmth after being away from it for seconds. ‘Happy birthday, Elle, take two.’ Claire grinned, kissing the soft hair on her daughter’s head as her hand reached to tuck a red strand behind Charlie’s ear.

‘Daddy’s home.’ Her daughter practically cooed, shifting herself to the centre of his lap, her hand rolled in his shirt.

Claire leant in, touching her forehead to Owen’s free shoulder, her face mere inches from Charlie’s. ‘I know, baby.’ She bopped her daughter’s nose, still holding to her youngest with a firm hand. ‘Are you happy?’ Claire knew she was, despite the frown on her daughter’s face and the small tear sitting on her cheek. Charlie nodded, curling herself closer as Heather finished with the cake.

‘Let’s do this, how it’s supposed to be done -’ Owen grinned, kissing Charlie’s head and then Claire’s. ‘- as a family.’ He turned to the table, grinning at the group, ‘Shouldn’t we be singing for my girl, again?’ He offered, causing the table to laugh at the demand Owen made out of paternal instinct. Damned right Elliot deserved to be sung to again, and again, and again until her birthday was just right. They sang, newly turned one-year-old hardly caring as she began to reach eagerly for the gaps in the cake she had left after her last grab.

Claire let her grip relax so Elliot could lean closer to the cake. She was content, restraints and worries melting away with Owen’s sudden presence. She stopped thinking about the laundry at home, Elliot’s pending illness and how quickly it was going to drag them all down. There was no worry now that Owen was there to support her, no concern that it would fall apart. He was there, back where he was supposed to be; right on time for his daughter’s first birthday. She was trying not to pinch herself, fingers seeking out his for solid confirmation of his presence.

Owen turned his head, peeling away from Elliot’s greedy handful’s of cake to lean into his wife, his lips finding her cheek. ‘I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,’ he promised.

[oldscarredlove]

AfterGone - Part 2/3

Part 1 - http://scarredlove.tumblr.com/post/158033060124/aftergone-part-13 The Origins of AG

Error, Geno > @loverofpiggies Ink > @comyet Fell > (Don’t know)

—CONTINUE— Silence has been the only thing I’ve heard, other than the imaginary voices of the other monsters before they were massacred, so after a few minutes of self-loathing, you could imagine my shock when I heard a glitchy Rip and very real, confused voice ask:

“What’s this place, Error?”

I immediately put up my hood, the electric blue fluff hiding my cracked face, and looked over the edge of the roof, seeing two skeletons leave some sort of void thingy.

“It seems this is another Genocide universe.” The one in front said, his voice seemed to be glitched and sounded annoyed at the other skeleton.

His jacket was black with the hood being dark blue, his shorts were black also with a light-blue strip on the sides and wore dark slippers. His skull was black, his eye-sockets red with blue tear marks and yellow teeth, he had little black and white particles and the word ‘ERROR’ surrounding him.

The second one was shorter, his bones were pearly-white and I could see his expression of confusion. He had a blue cloth tied around his neck, gloves in the same shade of blue and wore silver armour with dark bottoms and heeled boots. When I squinted to see his eyes, I could see they were baby-blue and large, I secretly hoped I won’t have to harm him.

They were such a contrast, black and red against blue and white, in the back of my head I questioned how and why they were here but I was more angry than anything. Well, my home was basically invaded… And I never wanted anyone to see the mess I got myself into…

Look at all these graves,” the error pointed to my handy work, “this obviously didn’t have a friendly human.” I nodded to myself and his statement.

The smaller skeleton stopped in front of Papyrus’ grave and I immediately lost my chill, I jumped off the roof and landed in a crouch, quickly standing up and walking behind their backs preparing to FIGHT.

“It seems this universe had a Papyrus like UnderTale…” The blue skeleton knelt before her grave, his voice carrying a mournful tone. My eye suddenly started to glow as my anger grew, questioning why he felt sorry, if anyone should feel bad it was me.

“I have no idea who you are or where you came from.” They froze and turned to me, eye-sockets widening at the sight of me. “But get out… Before I get really mad.”

The blueberry held up his hands and tried to reason with me. “H-Hey we were only curious to what this place wa-”

The black skeleton sighed in frustration. “Talking isn’t going to help with this situation, Blueberry.” He took out his skeletal hands out of his pockets, this tips of his multi-coloured hands tied up with blue strings. He raised his hand at me and the strings shot forward, aiming at me.

I allowed my right hand to crystallize and shield my skull, ending up having threads wrap around it, I heard gasps of both amazement and fear. “I’ve had ENOUGH.” I sliced the threads and lowered my hand. “Leave, now.”

Error grinned evilly. “I was only looking. You’re a new AU and I wanted to check it out, see what there is to see, ya know, before it ends.” I glanced away for a brief second, I’ve always thought it already had ended.

“Nothing to see here, I’m ‘fraid.” I frowned at his words.

“Oh, I can see that,” his grin widened, “But this is so fascinating. A female Sans and the only one left.” I felt my eye-sockets get larger. How did he know my name? What did he mean by ‘a female Sans’? “There’s a grave for every monster, Papyrus and the human are also included. Did you manage to defeat them?”

“You don’t know anything…” My voice had become a whisper.

“I don’t,” he agreed, “but I want to.”

Far from it but those words never left my mouth, I was incapable of talking, when the blueberry frowned and took a step toward me, that seemed to jolt me back to life.

“What are you doing?”

“Trust me, I got this Error!” He attempted to smile at me, possibly to make me relax and open around him, but I made sure to keep any information of my world away from him. “H-Hi, my name’s UnderSwap Sans but everyone calls me Blueberry. What’s yours?”

What a stupid question, especially since that ‘Error’ guy got it. “It’s Sans…” He then asked me to show my face, I didn’t feel comfortable with doing so and he understood which was nice. The black skeleton scowled and looked over the ocean of sticks and stones.

Blueberry then offered me to come to the ‘Omega Timeline’, apparently it was full of Sanses and Papyruses, all of which either came from different alternate universes. I declined instantly, after what I’ve done? I don’t deserve it… But then again, this was the first time in a long while that I’ve spoken to someone, someone that actually existed.

As I turned away from the odd duo, I shoved my hands into my pockets and started to head in, until a broken voice questioned. “You live here alone, right?” “Yeah, what of it?”

“How much have you eaten?” I halted and felt my cheekbones flush, it’s been a few days since I’ve been trying to preserve my resources.

“Oh! That’s right! In the void, we can provide you with plenty to eat and drink! Or at least, those who can actually cook. I, the magnificent Sans, shall make you the best tacos you’ll ever have!”

I hate those two… — As soon as I stepped in, I was flabbergasted by the amount of look-a-likes, some looked evil, some seemed happy and few were a mixture. It was very odd, I’ve forgotten what it was like to be part of a crowd.

The void or Omega Timeline, whatever you wanna call it, doesn’t actually look as blank as you’d think. It looked like just an ordinary house, the main room was a gigantic living area with a kitchen and a dining room next door (which I can guarantee is enormous) with a several few bedrooms in the back.

All the Papyrus almost made me lose my cool, at first all I saw was my sister in different outfits until I blinked and saw all the different men. One Papyrus noticed me come through and thought I’d be funny to throw me a bone, aiming for my soul, I dodged a nanosecond before it hit me and glared at him.

According to Blueberry, he was UnderFell Papyrus, although most called his Edge or something along those lines. I didn’t even want to go near the pair but I did see a few good-lookers there if I do say so myself. I tried not to giggle when one of these said ‘Good-Lookers’ glanced at me, probably feeling my eyes on them.

“The spaghetti is finished!” Those words killed whatever positive feeling I had, all I felt right then was numbness, thinking I’d see a happy sister come out of the odd kitchen. It was a Papyrus that came through wearing a stained apron but I was filled with disappointment when I realized it wasn’t my Papyrus.

I knew my sister was dead, so why did I hope it was?

“Ah! You’re the newest Sans?” I nodded at the hyperactive skeleton. “I’m from UnderTale, come to the table and select whatever dish you want!” His smile and speech was so much like my sister that I had a deep desire to hug him and cry.

Many universes headed toward the kitchen to receive a plate of whatever they felt like. I looked behind me and felt sick all of a sudden, all I could see was a long corridor full of grey doors with words written onto them and having a closer investigation of them I realized these lead to the other AUs that existed.

“Here! Have some of my famous spaghetti!” Turning around, I see UnderTale Papyrus handing me a plate of pasta, steaming and covered in sauce. I sat down on one of the many couches and gazed at the plate, memories flashing before my eyes.

“Sans! I finally learnt how to cook spaghetti!” “I’ve improved! Try it Sans!” A sad smile rose to my mouth, I twirled a fork in the pasta and felt a tear slither down my cheekbone.before taking a bite. — I was back in my AU, the snowy ground cooling off my hot head. I didn’t feel good at all, after having a bit of that pasta, I immediately wanted to be sick so my first thought was to return and spit it all out. After finishing, I got up only to take a few steps and be sick again, I fell onto the ground with my head spinning and my face burning.

Opening my eyes, I thought back to all those AUs, they were all so kind and entertaining, the best company I’ve had in a long time. Even UnderFell was fun. Sitting up, I rested my forehead onto my knee and thought of what to do. I have a new place to go now, somewhere new and joyful… but was I ready? Ready to take that leap back into sanity and life?

I’ve been frozen in time for such a long period of time that I almost forget that nothing is actually changing, expect my body although my state of mind has stayed the same. As I looked back at the grey door now set up next to the door to my old work-space, I sat there in silence, rehearing the cries and yells of those I’d killed… — As I returned to the void a Sans Blueberry introduced me to as Geno Sans, the lone survivor of AfterTale, greeted me with his expression quickly turning to one of shock.

“You’re skull… It’s-”

“Yeah,” I raised my hands up to my shoulders and smiled a genuine smile for the first time in who knows how long, “I know.” I searched around for Blueberry but saw no sign of him, guessing he’d returned back to his own home. I turned back to Geno. “UnderSwap Sans told me of your story…”

He nodded mournfully, he had every right to be upset. “Everyone knows everyone here.”

I couldn’t help but to smirk at that comment, of course we all would, we’re the same people but with altered personalities. I looked up to Geno and said. “We’re very much alike, so from now on… I’d like to be called AfterGone Sans.” —PAUSE—

[plainlymalee]

Etude House Dear Darling Water Gel Tint Review and Swatches

I’m finally ending my blog hiatus with this post on Etude House’s newest limited edition lip tints shaped like popsicles! This is the first time I’ve ever owned every shade in a lip colour collection and it’s all because Etude House Singapore was having a ‘Buy 5 Get 1 Free’ promotion (also because I’d been desperately waiting for these babies to arrive on our shores for more than a month).

The Dear Darling Water Gel Tints are not new to Etude House, but these were specially produced for Summer 2017. Unlike the original line of Water Gel Tints which boasts high pigmentation and opacity, these summer shades are meant to be “light and muted” to brighten the skin tone for the season.

Look at these cute little popsicles! Despite the price, nothing about this packaging looks or feels cheap.

Twist the popsicle stick to reveal the slanted teardrop-shaped applicator! While the wide edge makes for easy application, I find that the tip causes some product to gather at the borders of the lips when I’m going for full colour lips and I have to use my finger to smudge everything out in the end.

Note: Unlike the original line of Water Gel Tints, these are more gel-like and sheer. Also, I have very pale lips so some shades do not show up well on me. However, the colours may look different on you if you have redder or pigmented lips, so please keep that in mind while reading the rest of my post.

RD306 Shark Red would be adored by those who love dark red lips. It takes about 3 applications on my lips to almost reach the darkness it has in the bottle. Still, it’s very eye-catching.

RD307 Watermelon Red is a bright red with a drop of pink in it. If you’re wary of trying red lip shades, this could be a shade that could ease you into wearing them as the sheerness prevents it from becoming too overpowering.

PK004 Red Bean Red is like a muted plum shade. If you were on the “dried rose” lip colour bandwagon back in Fall 2016, this is a shade you would be familiar with. On my lips, the purple tones don’t really show up.

PK005 O Peach Red is more of a sweet pink despite being called red. 

PK006 Jewel Red is a translucent pink-based tint that contains pink, gold and silver glitter particles that flash blue at some angles. It somehow reminds me of the glitter glue I used to use in school when I was a kid (do kids these days use glitter glue??). This shade is meant to be worn on top of lip colours but if you want to, you could always wear it on its own. 

OR205 Apricot Red is a lovely orange coral.

I would describe Red Bean Red, O Peach Red and Apricot Red as MLBB shades on me.

Swatches:

(These were all swatched once on a bare arm and taken in natural lighting)

As you can see, apart from Shark Red and Watermelon Red, they’re pretty sheer. Depending on what you’re looking for in a lip tint, this could be either a good or a bad thing. Some bloggers have been able to build the colours up to high opacity, but despite 3 applications which felt heavy, I couldn’t get Red Bean Red and O Peach Red to reach the level of pigmentation seen in the official Etude House swatches. I was disappointed when some of the shades turned out to be less pigmented than I’d thought, but after some consideration I decided that I didn’t mind it so much because I don’t have many natural looking MLBB shades anyway.

Scent/Taste: It has the same sweet watermelon scent of the Etude House Colour in Liquid Lips, but is slightly less strong compared to that. As for the taste... Y’all... I hate it. It’s worse than the Labiotte Wine Lip Tints imo. It’s artificially sweet but has a bitter after taste. Don’t expect it to taste like fruits or ice cream.

Texture/Finish: On initial application, it makes your lips look so juicy and smooth. After you rub your lips together, however, all your lip wrinkles appear again. T_T Etude House claims that the soapberry extract in the formula helps with lasting moisturisation. It does feel hydrating at first, but after some time, my lips feel a bit dry and I have to reapply the tint.

Staying power:

The darker shades appear to stain more than the lighter ones. I wiped the tints off with a dry tissue for this shot, but I also tried eating dinner with Watermelon Red on and found that it held up reasonably well after my meal of rice and side dishes. I highly doubt it will survive eating noodles though!

Final score: 4/5. If you like sheer glosses, you’ll love these tints as they leave a stain, and thus last a bit longer than glosses. Initially, I did regret buying every single shade because 1) I don’t really like sheer tints and 2) O Peach Red and Apricot Red look so similar, but I ended up appreciating the natural look they gave me. Those who are looking for much stronger pigmentation and staying power should pass on this. I took an entire point off simply for the taste (I never claimed to be 100% objective :p)

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Where to buy:

These cost SGD9.90 each at all Etude House outlets in Singapore. They are currently having a “buy 5 get 1 free” promotion.

Cosmetic-Love: USD5.92 (free international shipping). Sign up using this link for 15% off your first purchase.

Etude House Official: USD6.50 (excludes shipping)

W2Beauty: USD7 (free international shipping for purchases over $60)

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