#Maybe go watch it in context instead. (Charlie voice) Just a suggestion!

[stopper-my-heart]

Nick & Charlie "better" flirting S1E1

S1E2

[Text conversation] Nick: Nope you have been exposed as a NERD Charlie: rude!!!!!!!! Nick: A cool nerd? Charlie: that's better Nick: lmao

S2E6

Bonus: S1E8

[raindownforme]

Writing Event

Hi! I was tagged by @jschllatt for a writing event, and this is for her!

———

5. Charlie slimecicle x reader [they/them used] (reader had freckles for context)

y/n stirred in their sleep, doing their best to shift with the almost unfamiliar weight. Almost, as if they didn’t know what it felt like to have someone else laying on top of them.

“Charlie?”

“No no no, go back to sleep.”

y/n peeked one eye open, looking at their boyfriend. Charlie was lazily propped up on one arm, the rest of his weight draped over y/n’s once sleeping self.

“Good morning I guess.” y/n tried to move, but found themself still stuck under Charlie. He had a leg wrapped between theirs and a hand holding the side of their face. “Can I get up yet?”

“No wait I’m counting.” Charlie’s voice was hushed, just above a whisper. y/n watched him squint as he focused on various points of their face.

“Maybe you’d be quicker if you put your glasses on.”

Charlie gasped, letting go of y/n’s face to reach over to the bedside table. He returned with his glasses resting on his nose, starting to fall off from the angle. “Okay. Now I have to start over.”

“Do we have to do this right now?” y/n yawned.

“Aw, you’re adorable. And yes I do.”

“Babe, I want to get up. Can you do this later? Some other time I’m asleep?”

“Fine I’ll stop counting.”

“Thank you.”

“Now it’s time to play connect-the-dots!” Charlie pulled y/n closer with his legs. He began to very gently drag his finger across the surface of y/n’s skin, following made-up patterns and lines.

y/n hummed lowly, feigning annoyance with their boyfriend. “Can you stop playing connect-the-dots with my freckles?”

Charlie drew back his touch. “Fine.” He rolled over, releasing y/n from his weight, and rolled over.

y/n propped themselves upright, frowning. “Don’t tell me you’re upset?”

Charlie mumbled a response and y/n leaned closer to try and hear him. He leaned closer a bit as well, repeating himself. “I wanted to see.”

“They aren’t even patterns, it’s just dots.”

“No, these ones-“ Charlie turned back and very gently put his thumb over the side of their face, right over where the cheek bones began and to the side of the outer corner of their eye. “It’s almost a triangle shape. Or a couple triangles. There a couple patterns, you just don’t see them.”

y/n paused, almost freezing under Charlie’s touch, then leaned into the contact. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Get back here and keep counting loser.”

y/n opened their arms, allowing Charlie to get back to his previous position in the shared bed and continue happily connecting the dots.

———

8. Charlie Slimecicle x reader [they/them]

y/n shivered. It was that kind of early morning cold. The being on a leather car seat while the wind whipped outside. The early morning chill of January.

y/n and Charlie knew this was coming. They’d known for two months know. Earlier, in the beginning of November when they planned the trip, neither one of them felt the sadness they feel now. They’d both been happy; y/n had the ability to come stay the whole month with Charlie. Usually, the couple could only see each other a few weeks out of the year. Usually it was Charlie with the looser schedule, and usually that made Charlie the one to drive or fly the distance between them.

y/n stared out the window lazily. There weren’t very many people out on the roads at this hour. They watched the grey industrial buildings pass as Charlie turned into the airport, going up to the third floor of the parking garage and finding an empty spot.

y/n quietly and slowly unbuckled themself from the car. They left the car, turning to see Charlie already holding their large suitcase. y/n smiled at him, small tears coming to their eyes. They reached out politely, trying to take it from him.

“No I want it.”

“It’s okay, it’s not even yours.”

“Let me. Please?”

y/n gave in with a smile, taking Charlie’s free hand in theirs as they let Charlie lead them into the airport. They made their way across the patterned carpet to the check-desk.

“Hi there.” There was a lone employee working the front desk. She extended a hand outwards. “Boarding pass and ID please?” y/n fished though their carry-on bag, bringing forth the paper and plastic card. The employee scanned it and looked over at their computer. “Alright, just you y/n?”

“Yes.” y/n knew it wasn’t meant to be cruel, but the words still dug at their skin and itched at their bones. Just them. No Charlie. They’d be alone. Again.

“Alright. That’ll be gate 36B. Unfortunately, sir, you can’t come to the gate.”

“What the farthest I can come?” Charlie glanced over to y/n.

“Just to TSA.”

“Is there any way?”

“I’m sorry I can only bend that rule if you’re accompanying a minor.”

Charlie nodded and the couple walked away. They walked towards the large LED bord that displayed the flight information. y/n watched Charlie scan it with squinted eyes.

“401 right? Flight 401? We’ve got— shit.” Charlie frowned. “40 minutes. We move gotta get you through security.”

“We?”

Charlie looked back to y/n. They had tears brimming their eyes and were fiddling with a loose string on the sleeve of their sweater. They were still wearing Charlie’s sweater.

“I guess I can’t take you any further.”

“I know that.”

“You don’t have to get mad at me.” Charlie frowned at y/n. He set their bag to the side and gently took the carry-on from their shoulders, placing it near the bag. Charlie pulled them closer, wrapping his body around them and leaning his head against the top of theirs. “I’ll see you again.”

“But when?” y/n did their best to not cry, but it seemed impossible in this moment. They were tired. They were cold. And they had to leave the person they cared for more than anything within the next ten minutes.

“I don’t know. Valentine’s Day? I can try and drive over in maybe April?”

“But that’s such a long drive. God why can’t this be fucking easier?” y/n groaned against Charlie’s shoulder, grasping onto his shirt tighter with their fists. “It took me so long to save for this and I don’t know— I don’t know anything.”

“Then move in with me.”

“What?” y/n looked at Charlie with a strange smile. It wasn’t the first time Charlie had suggested the idea, but they’d only been dating for a few months the last time it was mentioned. Now they were a year and 6 months deep and it was the first it had been mentioned in a while.

“Or I’ll move in with you. We wouldn’t have to be separated, and I could work virtually anywhere.”

“We don’t have— I don’t have room at my place for a streaming set up.”

“We can get an all new place. Just us. We can go look around when I’m down there.”

y/n thought for a moment. “Alright. You better hurry then.”

“Of course.”

The two stood in silence for a minute, still hugging. y/n glanced over at the clock that hung near the LED display. “I gotta go. I still gotta get through security.”

“No. Wait, don’t pull away… not yet.” Charlie pressed y/n even closer, leaving light kisses on the top of their head and the side of their face. “I love you. Please text me when you land. Like seriously.”

“I will I will. I love you too.”

“Okay.” Charlie let y/n go. He handed them all their stuff and stepped back, taking them in before not seeing them for the next few weeks. “How many other sweater did you steal?”

“Only two more, but I think I deserve them.”

“Alright.” Charlie laughed a bit. “Go get on your flight.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Charlie watched silently as y/n made their way through security. It took them almost five minutes, but once on the other side, they sent a sad wave to Charlie and walked off to the gates. Charlie waited a moment, hesitating, then made the walk to his car alone. He crossed the airport street alone. He walked in the parking garage alone. And he got in his car and drove home. Alone.

———

12. Canon! Charlie slimecicle x reader [they/them used]

Las Nevadas was on fire. The water feature had died out hours ago. The casino was crumbling to stone. The tower had been cut in half. The strip club had been shattered. The restaurant had been torn apart. The roads were destroyed. The toll bridge had collapsed.

But they won, right?

Quackity stood alone. He watched his allies from a short distance. Foolish supported Purpled’s weight as he leaned against the god with a broken leg. Fundy rested against a wall, panting and covered in blood that didn’t belong to himself. Sam was no where to be seen, but they knew he was still alive.

But Slime? He was running. He was running in a large circle, searching through rubble and ash as he shouted.

“y/n?” Y/N?” He leaned on his hands and knees in the sand. His suit had been ruined for a long time now. The seams of his button up shirt had begun to rip in battle, the bottom of his pant legs had been singed and torn and blackened by the battle, and he wore only one suspender now, the other one much too weak and quite easily forgotten. He did not wear his tie, however he knew who was wearing it. “y/n?”

“Quackity,” Fundy looked upwards to his ally. “We can’t let him.”

Quackity ran a shaky, blood-stained hand down the front of his own suit in a nervous manner. “He has to find out somehow. Do you want to tell him?”

Fundy didn’t say anything, instead watching his friend run around. “Y/N!”

“This is cruel.” Foolish whispered to Purpled. The young boy could only nod in agreement, just a little too weak to do much else. Foolish, realizing this, helped the teen move over to sit next to Fundy, resting him against the crumbling wall of the fountain. Foolish turned around with the intent to aid Slime in his search, but was stopped by a simple hand placed upon his shoulder.

Quackity stood to the left of Foolish. He could see Quackity do his best to hold in the tears that had already left small tracks through the dust that had settled over Quackity’s face. “Just— let him. I can’t tell him. I can’t.”

The group watched Slime dig by hand. The rouble almost phased through his skin, but he kept digging. When he got too frustrated by one building, he ran to the next one, repeating the process. They watched on in pain for only a minute longer. Fundy looked to Foolish and Quackity. “Do we know where-?”

“Y/N.” Slime screamed in utter joy, pulling out y/n from the rubble. He proudly carried them back over to where Quackity and the rest of the group sat, gently setting them down on the ruined pavement. He kneeled with them, resting their head in his lap. Slime very gently carded his fingers through their hair, seeming to think to himself. He reached deep into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a neon pink healing potion.

Foolish shrugged off Quackity’s grasp and walked over to where Slime sat. He kneeled down next to the green guy, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and pull him away. “Slime, buddy—“

“Let me go.” Slime’s voice was gentle and somehow mature. He spoke sadly, but also as though he understood what was happening still. “I can still save them. I know I can.”

Foolish glanced back to the group to watch Quackity shake his head solemnly. “Buddy, I know it’s hard-“

“No, I promised.” Slime’s voice began to shake. He desperately poured the potion over the parts of y/n’s body where damage was obvious; bruises from the crushing rubble, burns from the fires and explosions, and the gaping cauterized sword wound to their abdomen. Slime smiled as he gazed at their peaceful face. It almost looked like they were sleeping. “I promised them.”

“Promised what buddy?”

“I told them everyone turns to dust and goes away, but I promised them I wouldn’t let it happen. I’ve seen it happen. I watched it. And I wouldn’t let them turn to dust.” Slime leaned down, pressing a light kiss to y/n’s forehead. He stayed close, whispering to the corpse in his lap. “Im so sorry.”

Foolish placed a hand on Slime’s shoulder again, trying to pull him away. “Buddy-“

“No!” He pushed Foolish away, leaning closer to y/n and holding them in a protective embrace. Slime gently laid a hand on y/n wrist, feeling the material of his neck tie in a knot around it. “I can still help them, please just let me— let me save them. Please.”

The group sat in silence. Slime’s shoulders shook as he sobbed over y/n’s body. Fundy and Quackity wiped away a few tears as well, listening to their friend wail into the night.

———

14. Charlie slimecicle x reader [they/them]

“Listen, man, hurry up. We were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago.” Schlatt leaned back into the plush leather seat, resting a hand over his eyes.

Charlie sighed, looking over the stuff he’d piled on the couch. He huffed, looking around. “Okay. I’ve got my phone, charger, wallet, jacket, I’m dressed, teeth brushed, what the fuck am I forgetting?”

“Uh, buddy.” Ted cleared his throat and tapped at the side of his face. Charlie paused for a moment, squinting before realizing what he missed.

“My glasses! My goddamn glasses. Alright gimme a minute.”

The two boys watched Charlie walk back down the hall of Ted’s apartment. Schlatt groaned and lazily stood up from his seat. He walked over to the small pile of Charlie’s stuff and began sorting through.

“What are you doing?”

“If I can find these faster, maybe we can actually get out of here.” Schlatt stuck his hands into the pockets of Charlie’s jacket. “Hate this fucking smog— oh.”

“Oh?” Ted sat up slightly, watching Schlatt pull a small black velvet box out. “Oh. Oh! Holy fuck.”

“Did he talk to you about this?” Schlatt dropped the volume of his voice, trying to not alert Charlie.

“No not at all. Is it for y/n?”

“I guess.” Ted and Schlatt had never met y/n in person before, only talking when they would be nearby if Charlie was in a discord call. But the two knew that Charlie loved them dearly, he talked about them whenever he got the chance. He boasted about anything y/n did, anywhere they went, any thing he could say.

“Do we— do we give him advice? Do we say anything?”

“Do you have advice to give someone who’s about to propose?”

Schlatt bit the inside of his lip. Instead of responding to Ted, he opened the box and his eyes went wide. “Holy shit dude.”

“What?” Ted got up and walked over to Schlatt’s side. The ring Charlie had gotten was beautiful; a silver band with ornate vines that held very small diamonds, all encasing a round amber gem. Ted very gently took the box from Schlatt, rotating it back and forth to see how the light glimmered on the gemstones.

“Ted this is… where’d he even get that?”

“I don’t know.” Ted stared into the ring. “We shouldn’t be hanging this. We should put it back.”

“Why do I want to wear it?”

“Why do you?”

Schlatt took the box from Ted, staring at it for a moment, then put it back in the coat pocket. He shuffled the jacket around, trying to make the setting look natural. “Now wha—“

“Okay I found it.” Charlie ran out of the room, rubbing at the glass with his shirt material. “What are we standing about?”

“Nothing.” Ted turned to Charlie quickly, awkwardly smiling. “Ready?”

The three boys made their way from Ted’s home to his car, then out onto the streets of Hollywood, headed towards Santa Monica. It was only a half-hour drive, and no one had too much to say.

“So. Charles.” Ted glanced at his friend in the backseat through the rear view mirror. “How are you and y/n doing?”

Schlatt made a pointed look at Ted as Charlie began talking. “We’re great! They got this really big job and we’re going to celebrate when I get back. There’s this restaurant downtown that’s so pretty— it’s their favorite! I mean, it was going to be a surprise, but hopefully it all goes well.”

Schlatt, thought for a moment, catching on to what Ted was thinking. “Is there something that needs to go well? It’s just dinner isn’t it?”

“Actually, can I tell you both about something?”

“Yes.” They both answered in unison, turning to look at Charlie as they stopped at the red light.

“Well, I wanted to, at dinner, I mean we weren’t doing dinner until I get back home, but I have this.” Both boys held their breath as Charlie went fishing in his jacket pockets. It took him a few minutes to procure the small black box, but eventually his found it and held it forwards, showing it off to his friends.

“Wow. Proposing?” Schlatt laid surprise thick into his voice, and thankfully Charlie didn’t notice.

“Yeah! I picked it out myself. Here look.” Charlie opened up the box, showing off the gems that sparkled in the sunlight. Schlatt glanced up at Ted who stared forwards at the 10 freeway.

“That’s really cool, thanks for telling us.”

Charlie frowned. “Is it not as good idea? You don’t sound that excited.”

“No it’s a great idea! I mean obviously we don’t know y/n as well.” Schlatt gestured to himself and Ted. “But it’s obvious you love them. I mean look at you, buying a ring and everything. Making dinner plans, Charlie this is amazing.”

“Also Schlatt found the ring earlier.”

Schlatt smacked Ted on the arm, sending him a glare. “So you guys knew?” Charlie smacked the box shut.

“Not on purpose. I was trying to find your glasses and I just happened across it. You didn’t hide it very well.”

“I—“

Ted laid on the horn, repeatedly honking at the Tesla that had cut him off. “Son of a mother fucker.”

“Starting to hate LA?”

Ted peered over at Schallt with a glare, then went back to driving. “We are happy for you Charlie, we were just kind of waiting for you to mention it to us.”

“Yeah, and we want to meet y/n! It’s been two years now?”

“Of course you can.” Charlie scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m just scared? I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never felt so strongly about anyone before. I’m terrified.”

“Hey, you’ll be okay. It’s y/n. You fly home tomorrow right?” Charlie nodded. “Let us know how it goes man. I’m invested now.”

Charlie laughed. “Alright. Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, Charlie took the 7 hour flight home. In that same day, Ted and Schlatt each received a picture of y/n wearing the engagement ring around their finger, both them and Charlie smiling wide.

———

Congrats Nat on getting 1k!

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 144

After much demand, Kink Night at the Undine has arrived. This chapter is really fun, was informative to write, but if you need to skip it, you won’t miss out on the overall story. So, trigger warnings on this chapter for:

- Bondage (mentions of)

- Pegging (possible mention of?)

- Impact play (discussed, both done wrongly and demonstrated correctly)

- Topping and bottoming

To be clear: These are all mentioned from the perspective of a non-participant, non-voyeur. I would probably overall rate this chapter appropriate for 14 years and older, but your mileage may vary. However, kink in general can be very healthy if done correctly, and this chapter was double beta-read, not only by @baelpenrose but also by @charlylimph-blog for accuracy of the scene.  This actually prevented a PROFOUND mistake from making it to queueing, so I am super grateful for their help.

Once I was released from medical after an unnecessarily long lecture from Noah, I found I had a message waiting from Charly with a date and time to meet at the Undine.  Right below that was a message from Sebastian with a uniform-slash-dresscode of sorts.

Aw nuggets. I had forgotten what night it was. 

There wasn’t time to grab clothes from my quarters, but my office was on the way to the bar, so I stopped by to change.  Socks and shoes were a bit of a challenge, since I generally didn’t wear either, so I had to find a vendor to help me fill in the gaps.  Granted, shoes weren’t specified in Sebastian’s list.  However, there was exactly a zero percent chance that I was going to lend a hand at a kink party while barefoot. Just… no. Nope. Not happening.

I wiped my palms nervously against my slacks when I arrived, not sure exactly what to expect.  Charly and I had talked about it, but none of that knowledge wanted to make its presence known at the moment, apparently.  Instead, my mind kept drifting to what in the actual hell she had roped Arthur into doing.  The door opened entirely too soon to reveal a smiling Charly, who grabbed my arm and dragged me behind her to the small group already gathered.

All of my nerves were forced from my body by the sputtering laughter I fell victim to when I saw Arthur - I still had no idea what he would be doing, but he looked like someone took a post-apocalyptic movie hero and hit a button labelled ‘make him a villain’ a few too many times.  The leather jacket and motorcycle pants were fairly innocuous, since I knew he actually owned both and neither were terribly uncommon on the Ark.  Same thing held for the boots - they were just practical in the After and several people held on to that preference with a death grip.

“Cloak’s a nice touch,” I snorted, trying desperately to ignore the campier bits of his outfit.

I was dangerously close to losing it when he scowled and adjusted the laurel crown - I mean, really? - resting on his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have cut my hair this morning,” he muttered. “Damned thing won’t sit right anymore.”

Charly clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, one more run through of what everyone will be doing!”

Sebastian nodded seriously and flicked a towel over his shoulder before handing me an apron. “Sophia has kindly agreed to prep the snacks, while I serve and clean behind people. She’ll clear any dishes in between batches, and one or the other of us will do a lap of the floor every fifteen minutes to ensure everyone is hydrated and there’s no need for medical attention.” He winked at the relief on my face.

Cooking, clearing plates, and momming people into staying hydrated. I could do that.

Arthur brushed off his pauldrons, only forcing me to confront the fact that they were shaped like skulls again, before straightening with aplomb. “I will be Dungeon Master, keeping an eye on everything from there,” he pointed to a scaffold that had been put into place over the bartop, “And intervening as needed if things get out of hand.” Without so much as a twitch of question from me, he explained. “Charly and Coffey can’t be everywhere at once, so I get to perch on high, look ridiculous, and play bouncer if Coffey can’t get there first.”

“Yep,” Charly nodded seriously. For all that she normally seemed built out of chaos and energy, this was Boss Lady Charly. “Let’s keep it safe, sane, and consensual across the board. Speaking of!” She pulled two badges from seemingly nowhere. “Soph, Bash, these are for you.” I took one and immediately grinned when I read it. Staff Only - I Do Not Consent. “If either of you want to play, go for it, but otherwise, probably wear those.  Sexy librarian and millionaire CEO are tropes that exist, so ya know - no confusion for anyone.  Any questions, concerns, cries for help?” When we all shook our heads, she clapped again. “Okay, off you go! Thanks everyone.”

Sebastian tilted his head toward the kitchen and I followed, wiping my hands on my legs again. “Thank you for agreeing to help with snacks.  I know Charly already told you, but I am not the greatest at finger foods that don’t make a mess or won’t be too heavy.”

I hummed for a second before making a few suggestions. “Macaroni and cheese bites, they’re about this big.” I made a circle about an inch and a half across with my fingers. “Just pop and go. Pigs in blankets, the kind with cocktail sausages… meatballs, but probably with lamb instead of beef.  Dumplings.” I shrugged. “Charly swears people actually bring food to these, so once that stuff starts coming in, it would just be portioning it and sending it back out.  We shouldn’t have too much actual cooking to do.”

He nodded and started grabbing ingredients. “So that leaves drinks, plates, and utensils.” When I reached for a rack of glasses, he stopped me. “No.  If one of us drops anything that can break, people can get injured.  I’ve been stocking up on fiber-based plates, forks, and spoons.  Drinks are going to be in those corn-starch gel pouches.”

“Dude,” I groaned. “Those things get so gummy.”

“Straws are real and do exist.”

“Besides, I can already tell someone is going to find alternative uses for those,” Arthur called from behind us. I swear, I could hear him smirking. “You can’t put humans, sex, and flavored liquid in the same room and not expect that.”

I shook my head with a smile, but he had a point. Once we shooed him away, work on the snacks went pretty quick.  Judging by the sounds coming from the main room, it was a good thing, too - furniture being dragged, then Arthur’s voice ringing out to welcome everyone.  Soon, Sebastian was swinging out of the kitchen door with the first trays, and true to Charly’s word, he came back carrying a plate of neatly stacked fudge, followed by Arthur carrying a covered container.

“Scratch the meatballs, someone brought an actual mountain of sausage balls,” Arthur grunted as he slammed the container on a flat surface before retreating.

“Not even a joke?” I mused.

“Must be slipping,” Sebastian grinned. “I mean, he said ‘balls’ twice…”

“Low hanging fruit!” a voice called from the main room.  It must have seemed entirely out of context to the crowd, but Sebastian and I were laughing as we started plating so he could carry more food out to the spots Charly had designated.

A timer went off, so I took the mac and cheese bites out of the oven, snagged a tray of drink-blobs, shoved a fistful of straws into my apron and took off to do my lap of the event.  There were already people taking a break, reaching gratefully for hydration.  Several times, someone would reach for one and pour it in a partner’s  mouth, and on one occasion, a woman offered it up like a gift to a bound man, both biting into it and drinking greedily.

I almost stepped on someone before I realized there was an actual pile of people on the floor. I diverted my eyes quickly from what I thought was an all-out orgy before my brain registered that I wasn’t hearing sex noises - just whispers.  Snapping my eyes back up, it took a moment to figure out that I had nearly stepped on the largest cuddle pile I had seen since my apartment on Insert Winter Holiday.  Crouching, I balanced what was left of the drink blobs on one hand while holding out the straws with another.  In no time at all, the tray was empty and I was heading back for more.

This time, food on one hand, drinks on the other, I exited the kitchen to see Charly wrapping up her rope-bondage safety lecture before starting to demonstrate different knots on a volunteer, with Charly in the role of the top for this scenario. Watching her calmly contort and restrain another human being while calmly explaining the psychology behind it was… kind of terrifying.  I had to constantly remind myself that this person volunteered and that Charly was experienced on both ends of the rope.  

One more sweep of the room landed me with only a dozen or so drinks left on top of a pile of empty trays.  I backed into the kitchen to sanitize and re-load the trays, only to hear Sebastian swearing. “Who the hell brought chili!?”

“Apparently someone thought it was a good idea,” I shrugged, baffled. I mean, it didn’t seem like a good idea to me, but this wasn’t exactly my area of expertise.  “Maybe we put it in bowls, set up a little station in one of the break areas, with toppings? Let people help themselves?”

“Bondage potlucks and chili…” He shook his head. “Trying to remind myself that I’ve seen weirder things, but…”

“I can promise you, they are having fun. And they’re hydrated!” I shook my mostly empty platter of blobs at him.

Sebastian went out to retrieve more food from the people who brought it, and I kept rolling sausages in dough.  “More fudge!” he crowed. “I snagged a piece of the first batch, and it was amazing.”

“You clearly do not see the irony,” I muttered where he couldn’t hear me. “Oh, heavens, no chili! But fudge… fudge is fine…”

The next time I was able to break free and take my designated lap, a slight bit more chaos had descended as everyone had gotten more comfortable.  Several of the more experienced were examining and complimenting each other on their knots and arrangements of their subs. Ivan and Jokul were doing…. Something… that involved Ivan in a gorgeous evening gown and Jokul with a gag in his mouth.  I was almost done with my circuit when a thud reverberated behind me and a black cloak whipped by.

“For the love of…” Arthur growled. I thought he was going to dribble the cowering man he was glaring at like a basketball, but instead he brandished a marker and made two quick X’s on a bare pair of buttocks. “Here and here. Only here and here.” With an irritated flourish, he wrote NOT HERE across the small of the attached back. “This will give someone kidney damage.  Specifically you if I catch you doing it again.” Ducking around to the face of the person he had just used as a whiteboard, he shook his finger. “And I’m not even going to apologize, because you have a safeword and you need to use it. First, last, and only warning, you two. If that hit had been any more than a nervous first tap, you wouldn’t even be getting that.”  Without a word, he snagged the cane sitting on the table nearby and took it with him. “They aren’t getting anywhere near the cane, fucking idiots. Gotta talk to Charly about those two…” he muttered as he blew back past me, so angry he didn’t even acknowledge that I was standing there.

I almost dropped the stack of empty platters when the Imperial March started playing while Arthur stomped back into his position over the bar. “Attention, Deviants!  Courtesy of some poor practices I’ve seen, I would like to invite Sir Coffey and his pet fae Charly to give us a tutorial on safe and proper impact play!”  Applause started as he beckoned them forward, Sebastian theatrically adjusting the lights to center in front of the stage.

I ducked back into the kitchen as Coffey’s voice rang out over the crowd, explaining yet again safewords and consent before launching into what toys were used how and where.  A little public humiliation never hurt anyone, I joked with myself. At least not for some of the people out there.

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[acnelli]

A Favourite

My entry for Ron’s Chessboard Fest 2021.

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Rating: T

Summary: Ron discovers a group chat that is discussing just how handsome he actually is.

Thanks to TheUltimateUndesirable for organising the Fest.

This prompt had been submitted by @accio-broom​ who also happened to be the beta for this story. Your help and suggestions are always so much appreciated!

@accio-broom​ got inspired by this post by @headcanonsandmore​. So, thank you for the lovely idea! I wanted to write this ever since I saw this post and prompt 39 fit the bill perfectly.

You can also read this story on AO3 & FFN.

“Where are you guys meeting tonight?” Hermione asked as she and Harry cleared the table while Ron and Ginny set up the cleaning charms. 

“George’s place this time,” Ron answered and swooped up some foam of the soapy dishwater to smear it across Hermione’s cheek. 

Sometime after the war, the Weasley siblings established the tradition to meet up once a month. Just the six of them going out for a pint or simply getting pissed at one of their places. This resulted in another kind of meet up, consisting of the Weasley siblings’ significant others. Tonight, they would play a French card game which Fleur insisted on being a lot of fun. The rest of them simply agreed because most of the time, they ended up just talking and drinking anyway. 

Playfully swatting Ron’s hand away, Hermione cleaned her face with a tea towel, placing it neatly back on the designated hook. Kreacher liked the kitchen to be spotless, and letting them cook for themselves every now and then at all had already been a huge compromise from Kreacher’s side. So, they always made sure to clean up after themselves; otherwise, Kreacher would immediately take over all kitchen duties again. 

Ginny sat down on Harry’s lap when all the plates and cutlery were taken care of and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. She lifted Harry’s left arm to check the time on the gold watch the Weasley’s gifted him years ago. 

“Ron, we should’ve left already.”

“Gin, you know every single Weasley is a notorious latecomer. Except for Percy, maybe. George will probably be not even out of the shower when we arrive,” Ron reasoned as he rummaged through the fridge for the sixpack of Muggle beer he bought to bring to George, “or taking a shite.”

While Ginny and Harry snickered, nodding their heads in agreement, Hermione just sighed and rolled her eyes. At some point, she gave up berating Ron about his foul mouth. It was a lost cause, and while she would never admit it out loud, she would definitely miss it if he suddenly stopped cursing. Mainly because over the years, Hermione gathered some exclusive knowledge about what to do for Ron to bring forth a particular choice of swear words.

Ron hardly censored himself, except when Teddy, Victoire and Molly were in the room. Not only would Mrs Weasley twist Ron’s ear off, Hermione definitely drew the line when children were present. She could’ve also lived without the image of George sitting on the toilet. 

They heard the fireplace roar to life, and a few moments later, Audrey came into the kitchen, dressed in grey tracksuit bottoms, white trainers and an oversized blue shirt that sure enough belonged to Percy. Her outfit clashed with the fancy bottle of wine she held in her left hand. 

Hermione looked at Ron, who she had to talk out of wearing his trackies tonight, and into a pair of nicely fitting jeans instead, along with one of his old Cannon shirts. He lifted an eyebrow at her when he saw Audrey’s casual clothes, but Hermione ignored it. 

Audrey sat down with a heavy sigh. “I knew I’m too early. Why am I dating someone so over-punctual?”

“You’re not because Gin and I are leaving now.” Ron laughed as he gave Audrey a quick hug before kissing Hermione and wishing them a fun night. “Don’t do what I wouldn’t do.”

“I think we’re fine then,” Harry commented from behind Ron, where Ginny gave him a peck on the cheek before heading out of the kitchen. 

As Ron turned around, Hermione pinched his arse, not ashamed to cop a feel as she gave him an innocent smile, and he rewarded her with his trademark lopsided grin. “Is this why you wanted me to wear these tight jeans? So, you could properly feel me up?” He asked as he leaned down to give Hermione another kiss.

“ROOON!” Ginny cried from the living room before he could properly snog his girlfriend again. He sighed and gave her a quick peck on the mouth instead.

“Actually, I wanted you to wear them so I can ogle you from behind.” She whispered before he went out of earshot. Ron didn’t turn around, but he gave his hips an extra swing before vanishing out of the kitchen. 

“God, that was gross,” Audrey commented but winked at Hermione anyway, “How can you stand that every day, Harry?” 

Harry was just about to give her an answer when they heard several people arriving via floo, and he settled for just rolling his eyes instead. 

Accompanied by a cloud of some very nice smelling perfume, Fleur glided into the kitchen and right behind her appeared a tall, blonde man Hermione and Harry never met before. This had to be Charlie’s new boyfriend. Ron and Ginny met him last Sunday over at the Burrow when both Harry and Hermione stayed at home since they still had been recovering from a rather nasty case of the flu. 

Fleur took Finn –as he introduced himself in a thick Swedish accent– directly with her from the Burrow where she put Victoire to bed and where Molly and Arthur happily watched over their first grandchild. Harry was secretly happy to finally have another guy in their round again. Not that he minded the company of Hermione, Fleur, Angelina and Audrey. Actually, he always enjoyed their monthly gatherings, but it was nice to not be the only rooster in the yard.

“I’m here, I’m here! I just wanted to stop by the store to grab some more Butterbeer.” Angelina said and put the bottles on the kitchen table. As always, they had a good variety of booze to choose from; Angelina’s Butterbeer, wine from both Fleur and Audrey, the Firewhiskey Harry bought yesterday, and some Cider Hermione picked up from her way home from work. It was way too much already, of course, but that didn’t stop Kreacher from making so much elf wine that they’ll probably never had to buy alcohol ever again. 

As Hermione and Harry added some glasses and snacks, Audrey observed the table with a huge smile on her face. She clapped her hands in childish glee, grabbed a bottle of wine and started to fill Hermione’s wine glass. 

“Fleur, explain that card game to us.”

 *****

Ron was annoyed. 

Because his dear brother was utter rubbish at calculating what would be the appropriate amount of booze for six people, they ran out of beer and whiskey after not even two hours. Due to his bad luck at rock paper scissors, he ended up going back to Grimmauld Place to get them some more beer and one or two bottles of Kreacher’s wine.

The moment he walked through the fireplace, loud shrieks and booming laughter sounded over from the kitchen. Ron planned to just quickly walk into the kitchen, taking what they needed out of the fridge and go back to George’s place. He stopped in his tracks as the conversation filtered through to the living room because he didn’t want his presence to be known just yet.  

“…okay, okay, Hermione. Don’t look at me like that. I complimented your choice in men. Ron is a stilig karl.” Finn said, his booming voice carrying easily over to the living room. Ron didn’t know what stilig karl meant, but from what context he was able to overhear, Finn might’ve just said something nice about him. 

As silently as possible, he stepped out into the hallway where he could hear the conversation better but would remain undetected by the occupants of the kitchen. 

“I personally like his jawline, especially when he lets it go stubbly. It’s…,” Audrey snipped her fingers, “very tempting to touch sometimes. Remember Sunday afternoon after lunch? I kind of had to restrict myself from starring at his jaw when he listened to the Cannons game on the radio. Such determination.”

Ron was sure he was glowing in the dark as he felt the blush creeping up his neck, his face no doubt looking like a tomato. He expected many things, but he certainly didn’t expect to run into this kind of conversation. 

“What does Percy have to say about you lusting over his brother?” Hermione asked, and Ron had to stop himself from bursting out into a laugh because he could practically see her narrowing her eyes. 

“Oh, Hermione, don’t be such a prude. There is nothing wrong with admiring somebody else than your own partner. It eez only natural.”

Ron could not hear Hermione clear enough, but he thought he could hear her muttering something like ‘I’m not a prude.’ 

“Does somebody else has a favourite part of Ron they want to elaborate on? Or can we finally start the next round of cards?” Again, the red-head tried his hardest not to laugh when everyone just ignored Hermione’s sarcasm and, indeed, continued elaborating on the topic.

“His arse!” Angelina offered. From the way she was dragging the ‘s’ a little, he could tell she was already slightly tipsy. “Ron has a very nice bum. Do you guys train your arses in these weekly training sessions at work, Harry?”

Of course, this brought forth another wave of hysterical laughter, which only intensified when Finn told Harry to keep him in mind for these arse workouts. “Maybe I’ll learn something.”

When Angelina recovered from her giggling fit, she declared to Harry she too wants to sign up for that training then added, “But Ron had a nice arse before Auror training anyway.”

“And when did you notice that may I ask?”

“Hermione, it’s almost impossible to play Quidditch and not have a nice arse. Sitting on a broom for hours is no picnic for those muscles,” Angelina answered, unfazed by Hermione’s haughty undertone while Audrey let out something between a snort and laugh, resulting in a rather violent coughing fit. 

“Don’t you agree, Hermione?” Angie asked innocently as she clapped the still coughing Audrey on the back. 

All the ruckus must have summoned Crooshanks because the ginger cat ran towards Ron. He quickly picked him up and started to scratch him behind the ear, successfully stopping him from running inside the kitchen and surely disrupting the conversation inside. And a shame this would be, considering Ron really wanted to hear his girlfriend’s answer.

“I certainly agree,” Hermione said calmly, “Ron hated his hand-me-down jeans, but I always had been very fond of them. Especially, their tendency to hug him in all the right places.”

So much for these new tight jeans, she talked him into buying, Ron thought, not being able to stop the huge grin splitting his face. Running into this conversation certainly was a pleasant coincidence. 

Apparently, the others didn’t expect Hermione to answer so smoothly because a chorus of approving whistles startled Crookshanks, and Ron almost dropped him when the cat clawed at his arm. 

“So, you guys are mostly fond of his arse,” Finn mused, taking a quick swig of his beer, “which is understandable but did you ever notice his shoulders? Ron has the best kind of build; slim waist and broad shoulders without looking burly. Please don’t tell Charlie I said that.”

“Tall and handsome, just like my Bill,” Fleur agreed, Hermione giving an annoyed groan that did nothing to stop the French witch from elaborating, “but I say, Ron’s arms and hands are ze best thing about him. Of course, I hate he got zis scars in ze first place, but I think zey accentuate his arms and big hands rather nicely.”

“Well, Fleur. That surprises no one, I think.” Harry said, joining the conversation for the first time since Ron listened in. 

“Don’t even encourage this, Harry,” Hermione whined, “How could find it not weird we lust over your best friend?” 

Ron knew full well that Harry would tease Hermione, and probably him too, forever about this, so Harry’s next words weren’t too surprising. 

“Well, actually…if I would play for the other team,” Harry obviously made a point to make a meaningful pause here, and Ron really, really wished he could see Hermione’s face right now, “…I mean, if we approach this in a logical manner…I have a thing for red-heads after all.”

The next outburst of laughter, surely about Hermione’s expression, sent Crookshanks in a frenzy for real now, and the bloody cat let out a loud wail and wriggled out of Ron’s arms, scratching the side of Ron’s neck before jumping down over his shoulder. 

If not for Crookshanks loud entrance into the kitchen (why he would bolt towards the noise that scared him was beyond Ron’s understanding), Ron’s colourful cursing tipped off the others about his presence. 

Well aware he had been caught, Ron followed Hermione’s cat into the kitchen, red-eared and shyly waving at everyone. “Hello…”

Before he could offer some kind of explanation, a furiously blushing Hermione jumped up from her seat, bolted towards Ron and without another word, took his hand and dragged him off towards the stairs. “Make sure to take good care of this new scratch on his neck, Hermione!” Audrey shouted after them, accompanied by the other’s laughter. 

With a loud bang, their bedroom door shut, and Hermione immediately pressed Ron against it, showering him with kisses and roaming hands. Slightly puzzled but equally enthusiastic, Ron took Hermione’s face into his hands, deepening the kiss and enjoying the feeling of her body pressed up against his. As they finally came up for air, Hermione nudged him towards their bed, but Ron didn’t move from his place by the door. 

“Hermione, you know they just said that to take the mickey, right?” Ron grinned at her and gave her a wink, “Riling you up is apparently not just my favourite past time.”

“You think they only said that to rile me up?” Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow as she took his hand and resumed her mission to get him into the direction of the bed. “

This time he complied, Hermione lying down onto the soft mattress and tugging on Ron’s belt, making him fall right on top of her. “Of course, you would think that,” Hermione whispered. 

“Think what?”

“That the others just said that to rile me up.” Hermione answered, her hands slowly roaming up and down Ron’s back, “I don’t get possessive over nothing, you know.”

“If…you…say…so,” Ron murmured between the kisses he placed on her neck. He paused his trail towards that special place behind Hermione’s ear to look at her with an awfully smug smile. “I did not plan to wear them again, but I’ll gladly dig those old jeans out of the wardrobe. You know, for the sake of making you happy…and also probably Angelina.”

“Shut up and charm the door!” she said as Hermione let her hands wander over his jeans-clad arse, silently marvelling about its firmness. 

As her hands and mouth wandered over his shoulders, his arms and his scars, and as his hands cupped her face and his blue eyes looked down at her with an expression that always spoke directly to her heart, she decided that every part of Ron was her favourite part.  

[charlieweasleyxmc]

Inside Jokes

The second week of classes was nothing if not brutal for the sixth years. Assuming that they would be given a bit of a break after completely their O.W.L.s last year, they had not expected to be barraged with a new load of coursework right off the bat.

“You are now preparing for your N.E.W.Ts,” Professor Flitwick twittered to them, “and we need to get you going right away.”

(Y/N), who had chosen Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts as just a few of her N.E.W.T. classes was already beginning to feel the strain.

“At least you don’t have to also captain a quidditch team,” Charlie said, groaning as he massaged his left shoulder with his right hand. “The new beaters have already got me running from bludgers and we are only two days into practice.”

(Y/N) nodded at him sympathetically, but it was Andre who truly understood Charlie’s pain.

“I’ve been made captain, too,” he said as they made their way to Transfiguration. “We have team tryouts this weekend so I won’t be able to go to our meeting.”

Charlie and (Y/N) acknowledged him, continuing their walk to Transfiguration in silence.

When Friday evening came around and they all collected around a library table, there weren’t very many of the sixth years who had been able to make it.

Only Talbott, Chiara and Jae—the last of which said he wouldn’t be caught dead studying instead of attending a cursed vault meeting—had joined Charlie and (Y/N) at their table.

(Y/N) hiccupped. She had been suffering from the infernal things all day after a spell in charms went turbulent and couldn’t figure out how to get rid of them. She remembered vaguely a potion that would stop them, but hadn’t seen Penny in order to ask her if she could get ahold of it.

The five of them poured over some books Rowan, despite not being able to attend, had insisted that could possibly contain the protections and guards for the final cursed vault.

The most disturbing of the suggestions was a book on basilisks.

“Spiders flee before it,” Chiara read, a disturbed expression on her face.

Even Charlie looked as though he might be sick at the thought of a dirty great snake in the castle.

(Y/N) hiccupped again.

“But that still doesn’t make sense,” Talbott said, glancing over at Chiara’s page. “Basilisks kill. They don’t turn people to stone.”

“Where’s Beatrice?” Chiara asked looking up from her book to meet (Y/N)’s eyes just as another hiccup let lose. “She was the first person who saw the frozen student.”

(Y/N) shook her head, hiccupping as she did, “Penny still hasn’t been able to speak to her. I’m not sure Beatrice would come even if I asked.”

“And Penny wouldn’t be so thrilled if you got her sister involved in all of this again,” Jae snorted.

“Chiara,” (Y/N) began slowly, “you don’t know of any other creature that could do this.” She made sure to put just enough softness in her tone, but she could have sworn that Chiara’s eyes flashed.

A shadow that looked suspiciously like a wolf crossed her irises…

“Arooooo!!!!!”

(Y/N) jumped what must have been a foot out of her chair and whipped around so quick, the roar right in her ear.

She smacked Tonks in the chest as she twisted before she caught sight of her.

Her other hand, which had been reaching for her wand, pulled back and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Tonks was laughing so hard and (Y/N) caught Charlie stifle a giggle behind his hand.

“What was that for?!” she called. “You sounded like a bloody werewolf!”

Two boys, (Y/N) recognized them as Charlie’s younger twin brothers, Fred and George, were holding their stomachs behind Tonks, laughing their heads off.

(Y/N) glared at them all, but that still couldn’t keep them from seeing the smile on her face.

“You looked as though you’d just seen Snape set on fire,” Tonks roared, still laughing.

“I would kiss the person who set Snape on fire,” Fred responded, laughing too.

They heard the tell-tale sound of Madam Pince clacking over to their table and immediately quieted.

“Your hiccups are gone, aren’t they?” Tonks asked wiping her eyes of tears and chuckling as she went to take one of the three open seats beside (Y/N). Fred and George took the other two.

“Yes,” (Y/N) replied, though only a little reluctantly. She leaned over Dora to look at Fred and George, “what are you two doing here?”

“Just wanted to visit our dear brother,” Fred said in a simpering tone.

“We really haven’t seen enough of him since we’ve been at Hogwarts,” George said, putting a fair bit of melodramatic somberness into his voice.

“Oh,” (Y/N) said, giving them both pitying looks. “I am so sorry. We’ve been monopolizing his time. I’m sure you two are so lonely and bored what with it being such a large castle. No way you could be watched at all moments. Plenty of other people to blame pranks on. Yes. I’m sure that’s just torture for you.”

She grinned at them.

Fred and George shared grins between each other and then her.

“I’m glad,” Fred said, “that somebody understands our pain.”

“Oh, I do,” Jae said from across the table, stretching out the words and smiling along with them as he leaned back in his chair.

“Found your brothers in the corridor trying to eavesdrop,” Dora said as a reply. “You should get some sort of wires like those muggle wires that stretches a great distance and lets you hear things on the other end.”

“Our Dad’s always talking about muggle stuff,” George said, “but they never seem to work as well as magic.”

“There’s a charm for that,” Talbott said suddenly, looking up from his book. “Some sort of an extendable charm. I’ve read about it.”

“When you were supposed to be studying for a class, no doubt,” (Y/N) said, her tone teasing.

Talbott shrugged, a small smirk on his face.

“Maybe,” he said.

(Y/N) missed Charlie looking between them.

“What were you guys studying?” Tonks asked.

“Actually,” (Y/N) said, a bit of hesitation in her voice as she glanced at Chiara, “magical creatures. We were wondering if a creature could be responsible with the petrification of the students,” she let out quickly.

Tonks glanced at Chiara.

“I don’t know,” Tonks said, “It could be some kind of jinx.”

Now Fred and George were also looking at Chiara, who was fixedly staring at her book without her eyes moving. When (Y/N) glanced at the others, Jae was peeking over his book, Talbott was hidden behind his, though she supposed he could still be listening, and Charlie, who was right beside her, had his book covering his face from everybody else except for (Y/N).

He was looking at the page and was reading, though his eyes were moving slowly as though he were trying to multi-task in listening to them and studying the context of the pages.

“Do you think it’s a creature, Charlie?” (Y/N) asked.

Charlie looked up at her and their eyes locked as the book fell slowly to rest on his lap between them.

His eyes were dark in the shadowed library and (Y/N) felt that they reminded her of a thunderbird’s eyes, all light and deepness within them.

“A werewolf cannot turn people to stone,” he said simply and she felt her heart fall as his eyes drifted away, falling back down to his book eventually, which he reopened and began to digest with a more intense look.

“So,” Tonks said, a slight mischievous tone entering into her voice, “who you all taking to the celestial ball then?”

Everyone, but Chiara dropped their books, the resounding clattering sending Madam Pince to come stomping over to berate them most severely.

Once she had finally left again, Tonks turned back to them, raising her eyebrows.

“First years can’t go,” Fred said, a little bit crestfallen, but also not looking entirely worried.

“Wish they could,” George said quietly.

Fred glanced at his brother. “Who would you take if we could, that Johnson girl? She’s the prettiest in our year,” Fred said conspiratorially to Tonks.

George’s cheeks turned slightly pink, but he looked down, “no, I wouldn’t take anyone,” he said, “just be a good place to set off some pranks, wouldn’t it?”

“That it would,” Tonks said wistfully, “if only McGonagall wasn’t on such alert at those kind of events.”

“Who you taking?” Fred said, leaning over Tonks to look at (Y/N). There was a strange note in his voice. Something (Y/N) couldn’t identify.

“I don’t know,” she said hedging, “I don’t know if it would be very smart to go to the ball right now what with everything going on.”

It was the truth and she knew from the way she said it that Charlie would have picked up on what she wasn’t saying.

The celestial ball was just another thing to have nerves and worries over, something she had plenty of with the cursed vaults constantly on her radar.

Fred looked disappointed.

“What?” (Y/N) asked, “Were you volunteering?”

Fred grinned, giving her his best charming smile, his teeth sparkling even in the low light of the library.

“Not saying no, am I?” he said, continuing to give her a cheeky smile.

She chuckled, shoving her hand into his face and pushing him back into his chair.

“I like much older men,” she said.

“Oh,” George said, a bit of mischievousness entering his tone as well, “but still with the red hair?”

(Y/N) blushed.

“Bill is a catch,” George simpered.

(Y/N) felt Charlie beside her and she could have sworn his arm tensed.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” she said, putting forced disinterest into her voice. Although, it wasn’t true. She had thought about it. Bill was very handsome by anyone’s standard. But he had been more of an older brother to her than a crush.

She knew Rowan felt differently about that though.

“Now,” she said, as the twins both opened their mouths to say something else. “Shall we get back on topic?”

It only lasted for a few minutes before Jae, Tonks, and the twins were back on the subject of the celestial ball and who was going with who. Even Chiara and Talbott were sucked into the conversation and finally, a little before nine, (Y/N) told them they better all get off to rest before bed if they weren’t going to do any studying or planning anyway.

The twins looked disappointed, but their moods seemed to cheer up almost immediately after a short, whispered conversation that left them disappearing out into the corridor at a run.

Madam Pince glared stoically after them.

Charlie went quickly out into the hall after them and (Y/N) knew he felt that it was his job to look after them.

“Bye, (Y/N),” Tonks said cheerily, moving to leave the library.

“Bye, Dora,” (Y/N) answered absently.

Chiara and Jae left soon after, which left only (Y/N) and Talbott.

“Well,” (Y/N) said, “I better be getting to bed.”

“It’s only a little after nine,” Talbott said, a hint of disbelieving in his voice.

(Y/N) shrugged. She had been going to bed earlier as it sometimes took her a while to fall asleep with all the concerns going through her head.

She didn’t tell Talbott this though.

“Yeah,” she said breezily, “I’ve been really tired.”

Talbott nodded, moving so that the table was no longer between them. Madam Pince was looking at them warily from across the library and Talbott glanced nervously at her before looking back to (Y/N).

“Listen, (Y/N),” he said, “about the ball.”

Her stomach dropped.

“I was just wondering if you already had a date?”

He had been looking at the floor, but once the words were out, he seemed to think he could look up again, and did, right into her pale face.

“Oh, you already do, don’t you?” a small breath leaving his mouth. “Alright. Well. Hope you enjoy it.”

He moved past her and left the library.

(Y/N) gazed after him, her skin tingling all over and she wasn’t sure if the sensation was pleasant or not.

Was Talbott about to ask her to the celestial ball? Of course, he was. At least she thought he was. But then he had left so quick before she could answer. Did she want to go with him? Had she even wanted to answer?

She swept her books into her bag quickly, rushing from the library with her head down.

“Is it true?”

(Y/N) jumped, almost dropping her book bag.

Charlie was leaning against the stone wall.

“Is what true?” she asked.

He walked forward, reaching out to lift the shoulder strap, that had fallen down, back onto her shoulder, his movements sure, and yet still gentle.

“That you have a date to the ball,” there was no accusation in his voice and he was waiting patiently for her reply.

She suddenly felt, knowing Charlie, that if she refused to answer and walked away, he would let it go.

But she wanted to answer him.

“No,” she said, “I don’t want to go to the ball. It would be too…too much,” she finally landed on, not knowing how else to explain it.

Charlie nodded, “Alright.”

He turned to go and she let him walk with her down the corridor and through the castle to the (Y/H) common room.

He stopped before she entered.

“You know,” he said, “If it would help you not to feel anxious, you could always tell people you were going with me.”

She stared.

“I mean, you wouldn’t have to feel anxious about the dance since you would just be attending it with me. And,” he continued, “you wouldn’t even have to actually go. I could say I got sick the day of and that would give you an excuse not to go, but also give you an easy reason to reply to all the invitations in the meantime.

“I know you don’t need a reason. But if you want one, feel free to use me,” he stopped with a smile, looking back into her eyes from the stones on the ground he had been glancing over.

He moved his hand to gesture her inside, not expecting an answer.

But she gave him one anyway.

“Yes,” she said.

He stopped, “what?”

“Yes,” she repeated, “you can go ahead and tell everyone we’re going together if you want too. That way they might not ask, although I’m not sure anybody else was going to ask anyway.”

“You’d be surprised,” he breathed. And for a moment, (Y/N) wondered if he had heard of others intending to ask her. For a minute they just looked at each other. It wasn’t quite comfortable, but it wasn’t awkward either, they just kind of let themselves look.

“Alright,” Charlie said, finally, “I don’t want to hold you up getting to bed,” he said gesturing at the entrance to (Y/H) house.

(Y/N) moved to enter, but before she did, she turned back…and flung her arms around Charlie.

He returned her hug almost immediately.

“Thank you, Charlie,” she said releasing him. “Thank you,” she said slower and more meaningfully.

He smiled, reaching a hand up to fidget with his ponytail.

“Anytime,” he moved away and she smiled before ducking into the common room.

...

Love these Cursed Vault Meeting artworks

[tlbodine]

So I Tried Feeding Some Horror to an AI, and it Didn’t Like It

A friend sent me this link to play with: https://app.inferkit.com/demo

You can feed this bot a short passage of text, and it’ll try to complete it. I figured I’d start with a couple lines from my current WIP: 

By the time Silas had finished with his morning stroll — blessedly solitary this time, with no more surprises on the shore — and emerged fully dressed and freshly shaved from the bathroom, Moira was up and decent. She had changed into proper clothes and done her hair, although she’d been lazy with the makeup. She was now happily wearing a long blue dress with three-quarter sleeves and a deep V-neck. The choice of clothing was a change from the casual cardigans and jeans she’d been wearing for the past week, but it was still not what she’d considered to be appropriate for what she had in mind. 

 “You’re thinking the same as me,” he announced, arching his eyebrows. 

 “I know what you’re thinking, but I can’t imagine why.”

 “Good. I don’t want to be overwhelmed by all the cliches.”

The bold text is what I submitted, the rest was provided by the AI. It seems this AI has romance on the brain. I do enjoy that self-awareness about cliches. But okay, fine, it’s confused about the wider context, that’s not playing fair. Let’s give it something horrifying to look at: 

If I hadn't had so many photographs in front of me to compare, I might not have recognized him. His flesh was sallow and waxy, pulled tight over his skull. His sunken eyes were dark and empty, his lips peeled back from yellow teeth. Most of his nose was missing; in its place was an ugly gash, twin jagged holes like something had gnawed off the skin and plucked out its cartilage. 

 Gambier's first victim, on 9 July 2011. An autopsy revealed scars on his legs suggesting that he'd had an amputation at some point. | Center for Investigative Reporting 

Gambier had pulled up a corner of the sheet, exposing his chest, where he had a tiny, smoldering ember of a cigarette between his index and middle finger, or perhaps between his middle and ring fingers. It was the same sort of cigarette that he'd been lighting when the paramedics had arrived, but

Interesting. I give it a zombie, it gives me back a coroner’s report. I’m also very amused by the fixation on Gambier’s cigarette, here. I wouldn’t recommend smoking under a sheet, buddy. And which fingers were you holding it between exactly? And if you’re killing people why are you still smoking at the crime scene after? I have many questions. 

But, fine. Let’s try something else? How about a bit from The Hound? 

Having eaten his fill, the dog turned away from the corpse. He turned, moving easier now, his body as loose and languid as smoke. In two easy strides, the dog passed Nat and into the yard beyond. He smelled of sulfur and the sick-sweet scent of decay. 

It was a smell that made even the boy shiver. The dog stretched, then followed the path out of the yard, taking its time over his leaving. 

 *** 

 Charlie closed the door and looked around the kitchen. Something about it reminded him of his time in the hospital with his mom, but it wasn't just that. There was something in that kitchen, some life, that lent it a weird familiarity. Something more than the same old one wall, same old floor, same old counters. Something that wasn't quite the same,

Now, this is interesting. The AI seems to have picked up that there should be something weird/uncanny/creepy, but it can’t figure out what to do with the dog or any of the other set pieces in play so it just strong-armed it into a new narrative instead. 

What if I make it witness a murder? 

Her mouth hung open, pulled into a slack "o" of surprise, and her eyes went wide. Confusion flared, then her gaze hardened, went glassy and distant. Dark blood gurgled out from between her lips, and her knees went weak, collapsing out from under her. But she did not fall. Instead, she stayed in place, weightless now, suspended like a fish on the ebb and flow of the tide. 

 I sat up. "How... how long have I been out?" 

 Tamsin's voice was a mere rasp, a barely audible whisper. She still looked about a million years old, though. Her brown hair was knotted into knots at her nape and shoulders, and her skin had taken on an ashen grey tinge. "Um...," I said. 

 "It has been five minutes since I last gave you medical treatment," said the old woman. "Five minutes, since you last ate or drank, five minutes, since you last laid down on a

There’s a lot going on here. The AI’s just going to skip right over the part at the beginning, and I have a lot of questions about the paragraph it offered me. Intrigued by this Tamsin figure with her knotty-knotted hair and ashy skin; more intrigued by the narrator’s apparent short-term-memory loss. If you can’t remember eating five minutes ago your head trauma is probably pretty bad, homeboy. 

But fine, fine, maybe the murder wasn’t explicit enough...

From the ground, it was easy to see how the trap had been laid. A deadfall rigged to the door. When the door opened, swinging outward, it triggered the pendulum free-fall of the weighted axe, the sharpened blade of which was now buried deep in the back of Abby's skull. The shadow slowly vanished back into the room behind them. One last scream cut through the air, wavering in and out of existence like a confused cloud before it finally came to an end.

 All of the sounds were now drowned out by a sort of loud and low rumbling that sounded like an earthquake. The floor and walls of the room started moving, the dust in the air raising up slowly as it became apparent to Red that they were no longer trapped. All that they could do now was watch.

 The Shadow

Well, hey, that’s progress. The AI figured out we’re writing a scary thing! I think. I do love “wavering in and out of existence like a confused cloud.” I also enjoy that they are no longer trapped, yet all they can do is watch. I feel like if I discovered that I was no longer trapped, I would want to run, but that’s just me. 

Anyway. I don’t think this AI very much likes my murders :( 

Give it a try to see if you fare any better. Reblog with your best AI-completed passage, if you want!

[shirtlesssammy]

The Future: How’s Everyone Doing? Did Everyone Survive? Recap

Then:

To reiterate: Worried husband is worried. Also, Dagon, blah, blah, blah.

Now:

Kelly appears to be in far less posh accommodations than last we saw her. Dirty and chained to an old cot in the basement of an undisclosed location, she at least is getting round the clock care from Nurse Ratchet Dagon. Dagon reminds Kelly that she can do what she wants but the nephilim will destroy her, and the world. Before Dagon leaves Kelly alone again, she suggests Kelly “take a bath.” So, um, Kelly does. And she brings along a nice straight-edge. 1) that was kind of a weird voice-over, and B) that’s a lot of blood for someone we know isn’t going to die.

SAM IN THE LIBRARY MONTAGE ALERT

These 25 seconds are my Sam Jam. Dean finds his savant brother in the war room with a clearer picture about nephilim and how much time they have before they need to find Kelly. “I think she’ll be giving birth around May 18th.” All the Lolz and eye rollz. How Very Convenient that’s the same day as the season finale.

ABSENT HUSBAND ALERT

Yes, Dean, tell us more about how you’re pissed at your “friend” for disappearing for a couple months. Please, you’re pretty angry and we all believe you. Agggghhhh, Cas heard Dean’s “messages”. Like, his actual phone messages? Or his “it’s 2 am and I can’t sleep so I’m gonna pray to you messages?” Well, Dean is too pissed to even talk, so he storms off to his bedroom.

In his bedroom, he’s busy running some crazy tracking programs on his computer, when there’s a knock on his door. I swear I’ve read this fanfic before. Oh wait,

I did.

It’s Cas. He just stopped by to return a mix tape Dean had made him. A. MIX. TAPE. When I was 13, a boy made me a mix tape. I couldn’t give myself hope that it meant anything more than friendship. 20 years later, I confirmed that my 13 year old self was stupid. CAS, YOU ARE BEING STUPID. 

DEAN MADE CAS A MIX TAPE. Like, how is that not romantic? Like, I’m not a dude, but is that something dudes do for each other in the digital age? (And think about it, Cas doesn’t trust computers. Dean thought of that and went through the effort of making an analog gift.)

Anyway, I could go on all day and all summer hiatus about this.

Dean decides to at least open up a little to Cas. He can barely talk, but he makes it clear to Cas that he can’t just disappear like he did. “We were worried. That’s not ok.” Cas apologizes but confesses that he feels like he’s always failing. He failed to find them when they were in prison. He failed to find Kelly. Dean counters that they’re all in the same boat. They also had a chance at Kelly and lost her. Sam is determined to find a way to save Kelly before the baby is born. Cas wonders, if they can’t find her in time, if they can kill an innocent. “We will find a better way,” Dean insists. Team Free Will! Dean leaves his room before they kiss and make up. Hmmm.

Meanwhile, Dagon goes to check on Kelly, and finds a tub of blood ---and a perfectly healthy Kelly. It seems the nephilim wants to live.

Later in the library, Sam asks Dean about tracking the nephilim. That question leads Sam to wonder about extracting the angel grace from the nephilim, thus leaving it a perfectly normal baby. Kelly and her baby could both live. “Hot damn.” They have a plan. Dean runs to get Cas!

CAS HAS A ROOM ALERT

Dean knocks on Cas’s door, but no one answers. In fact, the room is empty. Cas is gone. 1) Cas has a room, confirmed. B) Oh, Dean Bean.

Dagon and Kelly are having a heart to heart about Kelly’s miraculous non-death. Kelly seems to have renewed faith in her demon spawn.

Cas did indeed ditch the Brothers Winchester. He also stole the Colt. He meets Kelvin and hands over the Colt. 

They’ve got 2 bullets and a give-em-hell attitude for killing Dagon and Kelly. Dean calls, but Cas doesn’t answer. Castiel. Smh. Cas makes it perfectly clear to Kelvin that he’s not working for the angels. “I’m doing this for the Winchesters. I stole the Colt to keep them out of this mission and to keep them safe from Dagon. And I will kill this girl so Sam and Dean don’t have to.” Can’t say that he didn’t pick up anything from Dean over the past 9 years. He’ll do anything to protect his family. Even when it’s the wrong way.

Dagon is busy watching her game shows when the angels sneak into the house. Dagon kind of has the jump on them --in the sense that she was totally ready and completely kicks their butts. Cas kinda wastes a bullet, but in his defense, I don’t think he’s ever used a gun before. (Natasha: he used a shotgun during the apocalypse.) Kelvin tells Cas to go find Kelly while he battles Dagon. Welp, I liked you Kelvin.

Cas finds Kelly in the basement.

Dean is back to silent treatment with Cas so he makes Sam call him, but Sam has no luck. Sam wonders how Cas grabbed the Colt from the safe in the first place. It seems that Dean was keeping it under his pillow.

Dean: I say we find him and we kick his feathered ass.

Sam: Cas wouldn’t have taken the Colt if he wasn’t going up against something big.

Dean: Ok, I say we find him, figure out what’s going on, then we kick his feathered ass.

Man Dean, you’re really focusing on Cas’s feathered ass.

Cas is currently on the run. He couldn’t complete his mission of killing Kelly, so he absconded with her instead. Kelly thanks Cas for not killing her, but he doesn’t want her thanks. He, once again, thinks that he failed at a mission. CAAASSS. Stop. You fight your humanity, but it’s a good thing.

Dagon has a little mental meeting with Lucifer. Luci isn’t too happy that Castiel has his child-to-be. And the end of their convo reveals that Dagon has Kelvin hostage.

Cas and Kelly meanwhile are still on the run. Cas tells Kelly that he’s getting orders from Joshua in heaven.  He couldn’t kill her before, but he can now bring her to heaven. Her life, and her baby’s life, will end as soon as they pass through the portal. (Me: squirrels away information for later.) Kelly refuses. Cas pleads with her that this is the only way to stop this very powerful human-archangel hybrid. Kelly seems to have faith in this all powerful being - nothing is born evil. (Dude, it will kill you no matter what else it does with the universe….ain’t no good coming for you in this scenario.) Cas’s very bad day continues when his truck won’t start.

Dagon tortures Kelvin for information on Cas's location. “WWCD,” she whispers. “What would Castiel do?”

Cas ushers Kelly into the hotel room while he googles “how to fix a truck.” (Cas, you adorable sunflower.) Kelly admits that she tried to kill herself – she died – and then her child saved her. Cas is astonished. That explains the pulse of power they felt in Heaven. Kelly promises that her child is good because he saved her. “It was a miracle,” she said, ecstatic. “Maybe it's part of some plan.”

Cas immediately protests. “I used to believe in a plan. But everyone is just winging it.” There's no grand blueprint. (Trust him, he met God. Not impressed.) “You were just there,” he tells her about how she came to be impregnated by Lucifer. And I have to pause here because all season Kelly has been sort of blah oatmeal, referred to by all parties as a container and having very little agency of her own. It's been hard to argue with that which was super gross given parallels between Kelly-as-container and political narratives which argue that a woman's body IS ultimately just a container. It's such a relief to get some personality in this episode – even if it is highly suspect given the nature of her child and resurrection. In any other context I'd be unimpressed, but the fact that she's arguing back is Such. A. Relief.

Cas sighs. Kelly still maintains that her child will be good for the world. Cas argues that she's going to die anyway. I'm going to imagine this next section as a song. Hum along with me, kids:

Cas: Who will care for him when you're gone?

Chorus: Cas-ti-el, Cas-ti-el!

Cas: Who is strong enough to protect him?

Chorus: Cas-ti-el, Cas-ti-el!

Cas: Who can keep him on the righteous path?

Chorus: Castiel can!

Cas feels the baby kicking and smiles. Kelly's eyes turn yellow and she has a vision of the playground to Heaven, Cas threatening somebody in order to protect her.

There's a knock on the door. It's the Winchesters! “Yeah, that's mine,” Dean says looking at Cas - I mean, the Colt in Cas's hand. Heh. This is immediately followed by Dean slamming Cas into a wall so.... brb just going to be sitting over here giggling.

Anyway, Dean and Cas have a heart to heart. And by “heart to heart” I mean they don't talk about anything at all because interrupting!Sam asks about Kelly.

Turns out the Winchesters have trust issues and Sam lojacked Cas's phone while he was flirting for the Colt in Dean's bedroom. Cas explains that he tried to use the Colt to kill Dagon and failed (cue Charlie Brown frown) and he's hiding out in a hotel because his truck broke down. He explains that he just tried to keep the Winchesters safe. Bullshit, they counter. They explain their grace extraction theory as an alternative to death by sandbox. (A sentence I never thought I’d type.) Kelly absolutely refuses to consider grace extraction – his powers are what make her baby special. Hmmm, oh dear. They all agree to get in the Impala and head to a hideout.

The car is locked (for the first time ever?) (Boris: Cas should have just shattered the window like Henry did) and Dean chucks Cas the keys while Sam and Dean hold their usual to-the-side conversation about the episode's plot. Kelly climbs into the driver's seat and takes off like a bat outta Hell, squealing tires and everything. She's headed for the sandbox, if Cas would be so kind as to tell her where it is. She tells Cas that her baby chose him and told her to go along with his plan and he would be born.

“I am not someone that you should put your faith in,” Cas protests. (Me: hugs Cas so TIGHT.)

Oh yeah? Kelly counters. Well, “before this I was a cut rate political flak in an embarrassingly unprofessional relationship with my boss. I don't know why it's me or you. But I know we're destined for something great.”

Back at the hotel, I don't know what's pissing off Dean more. Cas and Kelly going AWOL again or that he's got to fix Cas's truck. Dean speculates that Cas is so desperate for a win he can't see straight. And, I mean, he's not wrong.

Cas and Kelly arrive at the sandbox, Cas the one who's hesitating. The portal lights up and Joshua appears. Just when we're protesting that Joshua is now played by a white dude he explodes. So...I see what you did there, show.

Dagon waves away Joshua dust and taunts Cas and Kelly. Cas steps in front of her. Who's ready to rumble? Dagon immediately starts kicking Cas's ass which is when the Winchesters arrive. Sam unloads a clip in Dagon which only serves to piss her off and she smacks Sam across the playground. Dean pulls out the one-bullet superweapon and Dagon smokes out then wrenches the gun from Dean's hand. “Time to take this off the board,” she says.

NOOOOO, yell Dean and fans of the Colt everywhere.

Cas stumbles up to Kelly and begs her to run. In response, she holds his hand which, as Dagon notes, is “adorbs.” Kelly's eyes glow yellow and yellow energy zaps into Cas. His eyes glow yellow and, fueled by the power of superbaby, he grabs Dagon's smiting hand and torches the Prince of Hell.

It's a miracle!

Sam and Dean approach warily, asking what happened. It was Cas and the baby, baby! Cas ever so gently heals Dean's broken arm.

“I've been so lost,” says Cas. “I'm not lost anymore. This child must be born with all of his power.” Ruh roh. “I have faith,” Cas says just so we know something's really wrong. The Winchesters need to trust him, Cas tells them right before he zaps them straight into sleepytown. (Dean’s soft “don’t” before Cas knocks him out just slays me.) Cas and Kelly head off to his truck (thanks for fixing it, Dean-o!) Kelly asks Cas what her baby showed him. “The future,” Cas replies vaguely.

The truck peels away, leaving the Winchesters passed out in the playground. Peace out, bitches.

Boris: Where to begin with this? People have been paralleling this season with season 6, and this episode was a non-stop, flashing lights recall of season 6. Cas once again goes behind the Winchesters for the greater good, to keep them out of trouble, to not bother them with his failings. I couldn’t help but see flashes of Godstiel at the end, right? He’s all powered up, and completely brainwashed for a cause. I would think meeting God would jade you a little, Cas, but I guess hopped up on nephilim mojo will change a guy. Cas is still in one more episode, but I feel like we’re going to be left with serious doubt about the state of Team Free Will by the time May 18th rolls around. Dean and Sam (especially Dean) have made it very clear that Cas belongs with them. I think that Cas is confused about what it means to be an equal with the Winchesters --his whole existence has been to lead or serve or follow orders. He keeps fighting against that free will that comes natural to him. He feels the need to serve and protect the brothers, at great cost to everyone all the time! But once he learns that a true partnership is a give and take, maybe then he’ll give up this constant cycle of misguided actions. CAS!!

WWQD? What Would Quotes Do?

Where the hell have you been and why have you ignored our phone calls?

It's a gift. You keep those.

I needed to come back here with a win for you.

Yes, dumbass, we.

I'll be there right by his side to nurture him, love him, help him to kill everything. You know, like a mother should.

Lucifer – he's just breaking toys.

You're not our babysitter, Cas.

There are kinks, yes.