#Origin Stories

[emporium]

How did you find tumblr?

I really enjoy talking with tumblr users so I thought I'd try posting more prompts to get some conversations started.

I was in a nostalgic mood this week and was trying to remember how I first came to tumblr. It got me thinking that it would be cool to learn other's origin stories. I'll go first.

Even though I'm a big nerd who loves Star Trek (DS9 4 life) and Anime (Fairy Tail forever) it was WordPress that brought me to tumblr. Back in 2010 while in college I worked part time for a WordPress theme shop called Obox Themes. They were looking for new markets and decided that tumblr themes would be a good area to get into. I fell in love with how easy it was to modify my digital home and how there was a whole community of people hacking and releasing themes. Creating a WordPress theme from scratch would have been impossible with my skillset then but with tumblr I could do anything with my handy CSS guide and a few energy drinks.

Over the years what kept bringing me back was the themes. They were funky, weird and sometimes a little broken but who cares. It seemed like the entire web was trying to be grown up but tumblr was Toys R Us, they said it’s ok to be a kid. I loved that. Whenever I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere else I’d come back to tumblr and make a new theme (https://www.tumblr.com/themes/by/nick). I use to love clicking on the installs and seeing what kind of fun folks were using my stuff. What kind of people liked the weird stuff I did. It's your turn. What brought you to tumblr?

[suugarbabe]

Origin Stories

(part five)

summary: you and matty are both at the castle for the holidays. you're excited to show him new things; he's excited to have you to himself for a while. but of course that doesn't last forever. reality has to come crashing back at some point doesn't it?

word count: 8k

warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of physical violence, draco being an asshole

an: big thanks to my love, my hub, my favorite @musingsofahufflepuff for reviewing and editing when needed <3

His heart hadn’t stopped fluttering since you first said it. “We’re going to spend Christmas together.” Except it wasn’t just Christmas. It was the whole two weeks of holiday. Christmas. His birthday. New Year’s. All with you. 

And you’re his best friend. 

So it was fine. Totally and completely fine. Everything was going to be fine. 

And that’s what he told himself over and over again on the walk back to the castle. And that’s what was going through his mind when he dropped you off at your dorm, stating he’d see you at breakfast the next morning. 

And that’s what he kept telling himself until he fell asleep, dragon held close to his chest in the silence of his dorm, Enzo’s snoring back in Kensington.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but it was still dark when he woke. He took his time getting ready, pulling on simple black jeans and a muggle band t-shirt. A gift he’d gotten himself during one of his solo rendezvous to muggle London. All items, of which, he hides at the bottom of his trunk, lest his mother find them and Avada him for being a blood traitor. 

Mattheo made his way down towards the kitchens, finding the appropriately stacked barrels and knocking as you had taught him. The door to the Hufflepuff dorm rolled open, the few stray students staring wide-eyed. Ignoring them, Matty found a lounge chair that looked particularly inviting and sat down to wait for you to wake up. 

Coming out of your dorm you were slightly startled to see a boy seemingly waiting for you. His head lulled on the back of the chair, making his curls splay out across the back.  “Matty?” He jolted awake at the sound of your voice, standing quickly and rubbing his eyes with his fingers, “Hmm? Yeah, yes erm, finally ready are you?” 

You huffed an amused laugh, “Finally ready? How long have you been out here? How did you get in?” Mattheo shrugged, “You told me how to get in last year, remember?” You looked at him curiously, “You were paying attention?” Mattheo nodded, falling in step as you started toward the exit, “I pay attention to everything you say to me.” 

A warmth spread in your chest, surely dusting your cheeks as well. “I’m sure not everything…hey, you avoided a question, sir. How long were you waiting?” You saw Mattheo begin to gnaw on his lip, shoulders lifting the slightest bit with his whispered answer, “Just before daylight.” 

“Mattheo!” you shoved his shoulder, “no wonder you fell back asleep.” Mattheo scoffed, running a hand through his curls, “I did not fall asleep I was…resting my eyes.” You couldn’t help but laugh, Matty soon following suit. 

You continued to tease, and he continued to deny, until you made it up to the great hall. Mattheo leads you both towards the slytherin table, which is the only one without a single student. “Being a bit seclusive, aren’t we, Matty?” He sits down across from you, grabbing a cup to begin tea, “I prefer to call it, ‘avoiding those who think I’ve opened the chamber of secrets’.” 

Grimacing slightly you give an awkward nod, “Right, yeah. Sorry.” Mattheo shakes his head, “S’fine, the halls at the end of term seemed to always clear out for me, so I was annoyingly on time to all my finals.” 

This made you laugh, you taking a glance at the other students behind during holiday. A particular group of students caught your eye, “Seems like Potter and his lap dogs are behind for Christmas, too.” Mattheo’s eyebrows shot up, a smirk of a grin gracing his features, “Did you just talk poorly about other students? Not very Hufflepuff of you.” 

You shrug with a shy smile, “They’re kind of annoying.” Mattheo turns and looks behind him before facing you again, “Granger’s okay sometimes.” You quirked an eyebrow, trying to hide the twinge of something pulling in your stomach, “Is she now?” You couldn’t help but notice the blush on his cheeks. 

Mattheo laughed nervously, “It’s not like that.” He could never tell you he needed help with your present last year. “She was just…nice to me once.” You give him a questioning look, “You can have a crush, Matty. Everyone gets crushes sometimes. I’m sure you two would make a lovely couple with even lovelier hair. Well, one person with lovely hair.” 

Mattheo shuddered, “No, no way. That’s not who I have a crush on.” 

“Oh! So you do have a crush then, okay. Well tell me who then,” You sat up a little straighter, leaning slightly more toward him. He shook his head vigorously, “No, that’s not…I just mean, erm, if I were to have a crush, which I don’t, it wouldn’t be Granger.” 

You smile to yourself, satisfied with his answer; for now. You decide to alter the subject, “So what all did you want to get into during our break, hmm? Explore the castle, pull a prank or two, watch some films?”

Mattheo laughs with a bit of bewilderment, “Pranks? Okay, seriously who are you today - wait, watch what?” 

You froze at his question, “A…film? You know what a film is, right?” Mattheo continued to stare at you blankly, “Why would we watch a photograph.” 

“Matty, a film…like a television show but…longer.” His curls bounced slightly as he tilted his head again. You groaned, running your hands along your face, “You don’t know what a television show is either do you.” 

Mattheo shook his head with a grin, obviously enjoying your slight frustration, “You might as well be Theo right now because you’re basically speaking Italian to me.” You threw a grape, hitting him in the chest, “You’re impossible, you know that?” 

“But do you not like a challenge, my little badger?” Mattheo caught the next grape you tried to throw and you grumbled. “We’re fixing this. We’re going to fix this today, I have to culture you. Why don’t you go fly on the quidditch grass or something for an hour then meet me back at your dorm.” 

“It’s a pitch…how do you know our password?” Mattheo mirrored your actions as you began to stand. Rolling your eyes you both began to walk from the great hall, “I’m with you all near constantly, how would I not know your password.” Mattheo gave a shrug and smirk, starting to follow you down toward the dungeons. 

You stopped him abruptly, “No, no. You go pitch or whatever. I’m going this way.” Mattheo pouts slightly, “You meant like right now, right now?” You nodded slowly, “Yes, Matty. Right now, right now.” His pout intensified before stomping down the corridor with crossed arms. 

Ignoring his little fit you headed towards the dungeons. As the snake lifted from the ground to reveal the Slytherin entrance you spoke the password quickly. Entering the sea of green; it was eerily quiet. You looked around the empty common room, noticing it seemed like no one was ever there to begin with, everything in its proper place. It kind of gave you the creeps. 

You made your way to Mattheo’s dorm, walking in and seeing the beds completely stripped except for one. You were determined to liven up the place. 

Mattheo wrapped his quidditch cloak tighter around his body as he pulled his beanie further on his head to cover his ears. Whatever you had planned better had include something warm because flying for an hour in December was the stupidest thing he had willingly agreed to. 

As he made down the walkway to his dorm he slowed. He stood in front of his door, pressing his ear to the wood to see if he could hear what you were up to. All he could hear was a low hum of music that repeated itself after a minute or two. 

Mattheo gave a shy knock before cracking the door open. “Come in, Matty!” Your voice rang out in almost a sing-song tone, the excitement evident already. Mattheo opened the door fully, his mouth nearly dropping in shock. 

What you had done to his room was nothing short of magical, but he was almost certain you hadn’t used any at all. 

You had taken one of your lightest sheets and hung it on the wall opposite Mattheo’s bed. Speaking of, you had also stripped his bed of all contents, of which were now arranged on the floor. You seemed to have taken all of the bare pillows from the other boys beds as well and created a makeshift pallet of sorts on the ground. 

Above that was a combination of yellow and green sheets that you had turned into a small little blanket tent, an opening in the front facing the sheet hanging on the wall. Both your Hufflepuff and his Slytherin duvets stuffed inside. 

“W-what is all this?” Mattheo continued to marvel at how inviting you had somehow made the Slytherin dorms as your hands started moving about to explain every detail to him. 

“Okay, so here is our fort. I know it may be a little childish but since you haven’t seen any films before I figured I would give you the whole experience; we got our blankets and pillow pallet and everything so we can be comfortable. 

The candles are for the dim lighting so it feels like a real theatre,” Mattheo then noticed all the small candles you had put around the room, “and this is the projector that’s attached to the video player; it’s going to put the movie on the screen.” 

Mattheo crouched down next to the two contraptions on the ground, listening to the whirring coming from each. He saw the stream of light that seemed to spray itself onto the sheet on the wall. 

He leaned closer, sticking his face right in front of the light to see where everything was coming from when he suddenly felt blinded, reeling back and covering his eyes, “Fucking Salazar.”  

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “Why the hell would you do that, Matty. Do you look at the sun just because it’s bright?” Mattheo glowered at you for a moment, rubbing his eyes. He started to laugh himself, recognizing the stupidity of his actions. 

“You did all this without magic?” Mattheo stared at you with wonder, his eyes shined with a childlike disbelief you hadn’t seen from him before. 

You scratched the back of your neck sheepishly, “Well, mostly. There’s no bloody outlets in this whole castle so I had to charm the projector and stuff to work. But the rest is pure muggle ideas.” 

“Wicked,” Mattheo crawled into the fort, starting to settle himself in all the comforts you had set up. You sat on the ground next to the projector, pushing different buttons to get the movie started before crawling in and settling next to him. 

“Thanks for doing this by the way,” Mattheo glanced over at you from the corner of his eye. You smiled, peeking his way as well, “Of course. Everyone should experience this at least once in their life.”

Mattheo settled in, resting his hands behind his head as the opening credits started to pop on screen, “So what am I watching exactly?” You turned to your side, propping your head up with one hand as you started to explain. 

“Okay, so this movie is a holiday classic. It’s American, called Home Alone. The premise is basically that Kevin, the kid, gets left home alone while the rest of the family are going to Paris-”

“They left him there on purpose?!” Mattheo’s heart began to thump quickly, a rage starting to fill his chest at Kevin’s parents. He knew all too well what it felt like to be left alone. 

“No, no, not like that,” your smile at the situation started to calm Mattheo, “you’ll see what happens. But basically these two robbers think his house is empty so they go to try and rob it but Kevin’s home, right. So then he pulls all these pranks! And I can’t tell you the rest but I think you’re really gonna like it.” 

He did like it. A lot. He thought it was wonderful; all the different traps and pranks and ideas Kevin was able to come up with on his own, and all without magic. He found the other part of the story line just as wonderful. How the mother kept doing everything in her power to get back to him, how she tried trading her most expensive possessions for a simple plane ticket; how she rode with strangers for hours in order to get to her son. 

Mattheo thought Kevin was incredibly lucky to have a mother that loved him so much. He had to hide his watering eyes when they were finally reunited and then the rest of the family showed up behind her. He wondered what a happy family Christmas felt like. 

When the end credits began to roll you sat up, stretching your arms high above you before turning to him, “So…what’d you think?” 

Mattheo plastered on a smile, “I think we need to try that heated door knob prank on Malfoy when he gets back.” 

The few days before Christmas you and Mattheo seemed to have the same routine. Wake up, eat breakfast, explore the castle, eat lunch, watch movies through dinner, sneak into the kitchens, drop you off at your dorm. In Mattheo’s mind, it was the best holiday break he’s ever had. 

On Christmas Eve you kept the same schedule. When it was your typical time to go down to the kitchens Mattheo found himself wishing you didn’t have to go to your own dorm. He had become accustomed to your company and feeling more happy about holiday things that he just didn’t quite want it to end. 

Mattheo watched you gather a few pasties and wrap it in cloth, “Hey, erm, did you maybe want to stay in my dorm tonight? Like in Theo’s bed or something just so..we can wake up on Christmas, erm, together?” 

Your beaming smile melted any worries away, “Oh, yes, please that would be so much fun! We can put a movie on the projector and fall asleep to it and everything.” Mattheo nodded, “Sounds perfect.” 

And to Mattheo it was perfect. You put on a christmas film, your yellow and black linen standing out strikingly on Theo’s bed next to his. You fell asleep quickly, Mattheo not far behind. 

Matty always marveled at the difference in sleep he got at Hogwarts versus his family's manor. But something he’d never experienced was being woken up by his bed vibrating or…shaking? 

“Ugh, come on Matty, wake up!!” The bed was not actually vibrating; you were jumping up and down on the edge of Mattheo’s bed. He groaned, turning to his stomach and burying his face into his pillow. He tried to pull on his blankets to cover his head but your weight on the end prevented him. 

With a huff he threw back his duvet, “Why are we waking up so early.” With a final jump you sat down on his bed, “Because it’s Christmas!” Mattheo groaned, covering his face with his arm, “I don’t get presents on Christmas, can we sleep just a little longer.” 

Your heart shattered, voice small, “I got you one.”

Mattheo sat up then, a guilty frown on his face, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- I got you something too.” Mattheo climbed out of bed, slipping on his loafers, “Cmon, let’s go check the tree. I’m sure your parents sent you things as well.” 

You slid off the bed on to your feet, leading the way towards the main Slytherin common room to the large Christmas tree set up in the middle. There were far more gifts than Mattheo expected to see, assuming your family spent a good amount on you this year. 

He watched as you seemed to organize everything in to two piles before standing, hands on hips, “Okay that pile is yours, and this is mine.” Mattheo looked to where you first gestured, confused on how there was more than one gift. 

Had you bought him multiples? But some of yours had the same wrapping paper as his. What was going on?

“I want to open each others last, okay?” You sat crisscrossed on the ground by your gifts. Mattheo mirrored your position, giving a slow nod. He was still so confused. “Grab the one with little frogs on it first, I think these are from…” you checked the tag on yours, “yep! They’re from Enz. He’s really leaning in to the frog father thing huh.”

Mattheo grabbed his gift with matching paper. You tore yours open, revealing a new set of royal blue suede gloves for winter; you seemed pleased. Mattheo opened his slowly before seeing his friend had gotten him a silk tie with matching colored socks. 

Theo had gotten you both gifts as well; you a book titled Quidditch 101 for Dummies, Mattheo received a lovely smelling broom wax. You were opening the two gifts from your parents when Mattheo noticed that he also had a box that matched the wrapping paper they used. 

“Did…did your parents get me a gift, too?” Mattheo held the box in his lap, his chest feeling tight as he noticed his eyes seeming to sting. You sat up on your knees then, nodding with vigor. “Yeah, they did! I hope that’s alright…it’s probably something muggle so if you don’t like it don’t feel bad.” 

Mattheo delicately unwrapped the gift, trying to not only compose his emotions but also thinking of ways he could thank them for getting him anything at all. Inside were two vintage looking t-shirts. Both adorning what he assumed were muggle punk and rock bands. 

“I noticed last year you would wear some stuff like that on our off days of school. Not sure where you found them before but my dad always finds cool vintage stuff so they got you some,” Your smile was a bit shy. 

Mattheo was beaming. 

“I snuck out,” Mattheo’s response was confusing. He folded the shifts neatly before placing them in the box again, “The summer before first year my mum sent me to Diagon Alley alone to get things for school. Said she couldn’t be bothered or whatever. 

So I…snuck off into London. I found this shop with shirts that looked older but really wicked. And people were staring at me with a robe on like I was a freak…I stole a few shirts, wore one out and walked around London before going back. Mum seemed none the wiser.” 

You listened silently, only nodding when needed before speaking. “Well I hope these ones are just as good, even though they were purchased legally.” 

Mattheos eyes snapped to yours, only to see you smiling. He let out a held breath and smiled, too. 

“Okay, saved the best for last. Do you want to open together or one at a time?” You held Mattheos gift on your lap, the shining green paper reflecting the lights of the tree. 

Mattheo looked down at your gift to him, the flowery paper a strong contrast to anything anyone would think to give him normally. “Together, I know you’re too excited either way,” his tone was teasing but you agreed quickly. 

On your count of three you both tore into your respective gifts, opening the boxes and holding up each item in front of you. 

Instantly you brought the material up to your face, not being able to help rubbing your cheek on the soft material. Mattheo had gotten you a Slytherin green cashmere sweater (not too unlike the one you borrowed from Enzo this past fall). 

The only differences were that in place of Enzo’s initials on the sleeve of the wrist, were yours. And instead of Enzo’s family crest a different crest appeared. “Matty…I love it,” you hoped your face displayed just how elated you actually were, “but what’s this crest here?” 

Matty’s cheeks blushed a deep shade of red, “Erm, it’s…yours. Well, your families. I…looked it up in the library. Madam Pince showed me a section that had every family crest of every student that’s ever attended. That’s your family’s. I figure if you’re gonna wear something Slytherin to support me, might as well be yours instead of Berkshire’s.” 

You could feel your grin double, your cheeks nearly aching, “I…can’t believe you did that.” Mattheo only shrugged, looking down shyly, “You always think of thoughtful gifts for me.” 

“Like this,” he held up the sweater you had gotten him. A beautifully knit black and yellow quidditch stripe sweater, “I’m sure there’s good meaning for you getting me a sweater in your house colors.” 

You gave a shy nod, hoping your meaning was good enough for him, “I know it’s been really tough hanging out with me in my common room since well..the chamber stuff. I figured maybe…if you had something to sort of…blend in? Maybe you wouldn’t get as many looks?” 

He could feel his heart flutter, a heat spreading from his chest throughout his arms and to his fingertips as his smile spread across his face, “It’s perfect. Thank you.” 

Mattheo scrambled to throw the sweater on over his sleeping clothes, “So, how do I look?” 

You gnawed on your bottom lip to keep control of your smile, Mattheo found it charming. “Positively badger-esque.” 

It had been such a rarity for him or his birthday to be celebrated while growing up (it was usually just him and Feindre in the kitchen with a cake Feindre had allowed him to frost on his own) that you being insistent on celebrating Mattheo the last two years seemed…odd. 

Yet here he was, sitting at the Slytherin table at lunch time with a cake in front of him (far better frosted than he ever had done) and not only you, but a few other of the students that had stayed behind for the holidays singing him happy birthday. 

It was positively the most embarrassed he had ever felt. And he wouldn’t change it for anything else in the world in this moment. He knew you had probably said something to them. Maybe you even threatened them with this new found sass you seemed to find this winter season. But he didn’t care. 

You allowed him to open your gift alone, just the two of you, in his common room. You brought two boxes to him and Mattheo’s cheeks flushed. “You didn’t have to-” you cut Mattheo off with a raised hand, “Don’t even start. Just open your gifts.”

A boyish grin filled his features as he tore into the paper. He held them in his hands, running his fingers over the material, “Are these…dragon skin beaters gloves?” You nodded shyly, “There’s some broom wax in there too that smells really good. I know Theo got you some for Christmas but I had gotten this stuff before I knew what he got you.” He grabbed the jar and unscrewed the lid, taking a good sniff, “S'fine. It runs out quickly. It actually does smell good…” 

You crossed your arms defensively, “Did you not believe me or something?” Nervously, Mattheo began stammering, “No, that’s not- I just meant..” Your laughter halted his worries, “I’m just kidding. Some old guy helped me pick them out. I was completely lost in that place.” 

Mattheo’s eyebrows shot up, “You went into Spintwitches? Wait - How did you get into Hogsmeade?” You shrugged, “That’s for me to know and you to find out later…maybe. Anyway, do you like your gift? Try them on.” 

He wiggled his hands in with a smile, his fingers poking through holes before he closed and stretched his fists. He marveled at them, inspecting the material, testing the stickiness of the palm. “The guy said that these are the best ones and the palm has some…sticking solution woven in the to material or whatever to-”

“To help with extra grip on my bat…you bloody genius little badger; these are amazing.” You could feel the heat rise up your neck and over your cheeks at the compliments. 

Mattheo picked up the second smaller box, but instead of his name on the tag it was…his dragons? Well it said 'to your dragon'. He looked up and met your eyes that were sparkling with a bit of something he couldn’t quite figure out, “Is this box for dragon?” 

“Well it’s his birthday, too- wait…did you name your stuffed dragon…dragon?” Your face wore an expression that appeared to be a mix between confusion and bewilderment. 

Mattheo let out a small laugh, “Well yeah…what else would I name him? He’s a dragon.” You placed a hand on your forehead briefly, seemingly trying to organize your thoughts manually, “Matty. Love. You’re supposed to name them.” 

He could help but scoff, “Well, why? Who says?” 

Merlin this boy was bloody stubborn, “Matty that dragon is like your son! What if Enz had named Mocha just Milk Frog??” 

This seemed to only make Mattheo laugh more, waving his hand to dismiss your words, “No, no, you misunderstand. His name is Dragone. With an E at the end.” 

You stared at him incredulously, but he only grinned full teeth in return. “You’re a shit, you know that Matty?” He opened his mouth to quip back and you just shook your head, “Nope, no comebacks. Open Dragone’s gift.” 

Mattheo tore through the paper, opening the small box to reveal a little crocheted Slytherin sweater vest, a small silver S where the crest would usually go on all the boys’ vests, “You didn’t…” You nodded your head, “I did.” 

Without a word Mattheo ran to his dorm. On his way back into the common room you could see him, Dragone in hand. Adjusting the tiny dragon arms through the arm holes and pulling the vest down over its little belly he turned his cherished item towards you, “Look at that, perfect fit.”

You and Mattheo continued to spend the next two days together (as if either of you would spend it with anyone else). It was strange really, having company this time of year. 

Not that Mattheo was ever technically alone when he was home for holidays. But he was always lonely. 

But at Hogwarts for the holiday, even if he was walking back to his dorm alone, or made it to a meal before you did on the off chance you didn’t walk together, he never felt that same feeling he did back at the manor. 

The emptiness. The yearning to talk to someone that wasn’t going to yell at him. Just to be around someone that made him actually feel cared for. You did that for him. 

When you said you wanted to have a New Year's celebration, Mattheo was a little apprehensive. You had convinced a few extra people to sing him happy birthday. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to do much more celebrating beyond the two of you. 

Thankfully, what he had been hoping for is what you had been planning. He went with you into the kitchens later in the evening on New Years Eve, swiping a small bottle of a bubbly usually reserved for professors at meals while you distracted a house elf. Said house elf let you take a few treacle tarts with you as well and you were forever grateful. 

The two of you had set up a little table in front of one of the larger sofas by a fire. You had charmed the painting above the mantel to display the time digitally so you both could keep track of when midnight hit. 

Mattheo had poured two glasses of the bubbly drink and handed you one before taking one for himself. “Aren’t we a little young to be drinking this, Matty?” You gave the substance a sniff before pulling a face, “it doesn’t even smell enjoyable.” 

Matty copied your actions, his face displaying the same displeasure yours had moments before, “It can’t be too bad if McGonagall drinks it at dinner. Just give it a try.” 

Reluctantly you followed his direction. Giving yourself a sip and letting the dry and sour taste hit your tongue before spitting it back into the glass, “Yuck! No, sorry not for me.” 

Mattheo had apparently the same thought process as he grabbed your glass and set both yours and his back down on the table. “Okay, not one of my better ideas.”

“Oh are some of your ideas actually good ones?” You teased. Earning a small smirk from Mattheo’s lips, “Be nice to me, badger, or I won’t share the backup I also swiped.” From behind the sofa Mattheo produced a bottle of pumpkin juice. 

You waited for him to graciously empty your previous glasses and refill them with a more satisfying drink for the both of you before grabbing your glass and sticking out your tongue. Mattheo mirrored the action. 

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence. You watched the flames lick against the logs in the fireplace, wondering if they were actually burning at all or if it were more magic that seemed to touch every inch of the castle. 

“I wonder what the others are up to. Theo and Enzo I mean,” Mattheo's voice broke the silence and you turned to look at him. He continued watching the fire, his eyebrows knit slightly together. 

You crossed your legs up on the couch, “Well what are all of you pureblood usually doing for New Years Eve?” Your tone was slightly teasing but also held a hint of curiosity. 

Mattheo turned to you, “Well, we mighty and noble purebloods,” his tone dripping with sarcasm, “we usually have a winter ball or gala or whatever the bloody hell phrasing they want to use between Christmas and New Years Eve. Which is when I socked Malfoy in the face last year.” 

You tried to stifle your giggle, but it made Matty smile. “After the big fancy party it’s typically up to each family what they want to do. We’ve had dinner with Theo and his parents before. Usually the Malfoys are always there since Aunt Cisy, Draco’s mum, is sisters with mine. But nothing fancy.

“I usually go to my room after dinner. Just hang out in there alone until I hear the big manor clock hit midnight. Then I go to sleep.” 

You were frowning slightly by the end of his explanation. For what reason he couldn’t seem to figure out. “What do muggles do?” 

You sipped your pumpkin juice and smiled to yourself, telling him of all your usual New Year’s Eve traditions with your family. “And we also have the telly on in the background, with the London celebration show. When the countdown comes you can see everyone get so excited. 

When there’s five seconds left you can see everyone grab somebody they care about. Then when it finally hits midnight everyone just…snogs. Even when they’re on tv.” 

Matty giggled a little, “Like the films you showed me? You guys watch one of those of people snogging?” His question made you laugh a little, “Kind of, yeah. But it’s real people and couples. Except they’re in the middle of London and we’re at home watching…er, okay. I can understand how that can sound a little weird.” 

You laughed together, you wiped under your eyes before Mattheo turned to you fully, “Have you ever done that before?” Your head tilted slightly, turning to face him as well, “Done what, Matty?” 

Mattheos cheeks flushed a little, “Have you ever, erm, kissed anyone..before.” 

“Oh, ehm,” your throat suddenly felt tight at the question, your cheeks and neck heating, “I, uh, no. Haven’t. I haven’t. Erm, have you?” 

Mattheo shook his head, curls bouncing each way as he looked down at his hands shyly, “No. I haven’t either. I, ehm, I heard Enzo did though…before break.” 

You let out a small laugh, “Yeah, I heard that, too. I think I heard him bragging to someone that it was a third year? Dunno what they were thinking kissing him though.” 

Mattheo barked out a laugh, “Yeah, they have to be a little off kissing him huh.” You nodded, “I heard Seamus tell Dean that he’s kissed like four people already this year. Dean was telling him he felt behind because he’s only kissed two.” 

Mattheo leaned his head on the back of the sofa, “Behind but he’s already kissed two people?? Salazars sake, what does that mean we are?” 

You smiled, trying to make light, “Not even in the race I suppose.” Mattheo grinned a little at this. 

“We could just kiss each other.” The nonchalant manner in which the words left your lips made it take a moment for Mattheo’s brain to catch up with what his ears had just heard. 

When the connection finally happened Mattheo sat straight as a board, “W-wha-, y-you wanna kiss me?” His flustered state made you giggle, “Well you’re my best friend, Mattheo. I like you enough. And I trust you. Why shouldn’t my first kiss be with you?” 

Mattheo relaxed against the couch at your words, really taking them in. He supposed you were right. You were his best friend, too. And probably the only person he fully trusted. 

The thought of kissing you made his insides feel funny though. Almost the same rush he gets when he kicks up with his broom before a quidditch match. He looked up at the charmed painting, the clock reading 11:59. 

Despite the sound of his heartbeat in his ears he turned to you, nodding, “You’re right. It should be me. I should be yours, too.” He scooted a little closer to you on the sofa, trying to close the distance between you so if you wanted to pull away you could do so easily. 

“Just a, erm, just a quick one, yeah?” He felt like his voice was shaking. Could you tell he was nervous? Why was he nervous? He noticed you glance at his lips momentarily, “Yeah, just a quick one. I’m not ready for a proper snog I don’t think.” 

As always you’re able to make a seemingly serious situation a bit lighter. You leaned in closer, Mattheo mirroring your actions as he nodded his head ever so slightly, “Yeah, me neither.” 

You were the brave one, bridging the little bit of gap left between the two of you. Mattys lips crashed with yours and the painting you had charmed stroked midnight, mini fireworks popping above the two of you. 

Mattheo prayed you couldn’t feel that his lips were slightly chapped and you hoped he couldn’t hear your heart nearly thudding out of your chest. 

Just as quickly as you came together did you pull apart. If someone had walked in they’d believe you actually did have a proper snog by the heated breathing you were both doing. 

You stared at each other for a moment. Mattheo then cleared his throat, “Right, so ehm, that’s a kiss then, hmm?” You nodded, fixing your hair that truly didn’t need fixing at all, “Yeah, s’pose so. Mhm.” 

Another few beats of silence took over the both of you before Mattheo stood up quickly. “Well I’m gonna…I mean I think I’m gonna, erm, go to bed now.” You stayed seated, staring at the fire. 

“Are you gonna come..” Mattheo was cautious with his ask. Not sure if what just transpired was going to change things. You looked up at him, smile reaching your eyes, “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

The rest of your friends made it back to the castle a few days after the new year. Currently you were sat atop Enzo’s bed while he showed off all of his new items he received over holiday. This was the unfolding scene that Mattheo found himself walking in on. 

“I got two new Italian leather belts from Milan as well, one brown one black,” Enzo held up both belts individually, turning them over for you to see both sides. You nodded, less interested in the actual materials but fully interested in the joy that was radiating off of Enz. 

“Well of course both black and brown, would hate for something to not match,” the slightly sarcastic tone was apparently not thick enough for Enzo to catch on to. “See, I knew you’d appreciate that.” 

You smiled and nodded, catching Mattheo’s eye across the room. “What the bloody hell is actually going on here?” Matty walked over to Enzo’s bed where you sat, albeit cautiously. 

Enz brightened further, “I’m doing a Christmas haul. You want me to start from the beginning?” Mattheo’s face was flat, eyes that dead demeanor they so often held, “Absolutely not, mate.” 

The taller boy shrugged, turning back to give you his full attention before digging in his trunk and pulling out a shiny new black broomstick. You did your best to give a shocked and interested smile. But per usual anything flying or quidditch related made you lose a little bit of interest. 

Matty, however, was now highly interested in the haul. “Is that a Nimbus 2001? Your father got you one even though you didn’t make the team?” Enzo smirked, “He did, yeah. Said I could use the newest fastest model to practice on so there’d be no way I didn’t make the team next year.” 

The two continued to talk quidditch with the next several gifts Enzo revealed from his trunk. The more detailed they spoke, the heavier your eyelids felt. And soon you found your entire head drooping to the side. 

Mattheo noticed they were losing you, sitting down on the bed and making sure he was close enough for his shoulder to catch your head and your body finally leaned fully into your bored, drowsed state. He pretended not to notice, and Enzo didn’t seem to in the slightest. 

They were still talking (almost arguing) about quidditch and quidditch-esque things when Theo made it back to the dorm. “Che diavolo? Did you bore our poor badger to death with your haul of Christmas Enzo?” 

He scoffed, “No, of course not. They’re not-oh…they’re sleeping.” Enzo pouted slightly as Matty nudged you with his elbow. You jolted awake with an intake of breath through your nose, “Mmm? Yes, yeah, special…goggle something, very cool Enz.” 

The three around you began to laugh as you rubbed your eyes with the heel of your hand. “Told you, compagno…bored.” You started to shake your head but Enzo held up his hand, “No, it’s fine. I’m done now anyway.” 

You climbed off Enzo’s bed, rounding the one in between before reaching underneath Theo’s. “Well since you’re all done I thought I’d give you three the gifts from me.” 

“Three? You mean you didn’t give Matt his gift on Christmas?” Enzo was thoroughly confused, fully assuming you’d both have exchanged the day of. 

You, however, rolled your eyes, “Of course I did you knob. I’m talking about you, Theo and Mocha of course!” You handed Theo his gift, him tearing into it immediately. You handed Enzo both his and Mocha’s after he fished her out of his pocket. 

“Aha! Grazie amico mio! I need very much this!” Theo pulled on the winter hat you had hand made (with only some slight bit of magical help for the house crest). Theo grabbed hold of your face, placing quick kisses on both cheeks, “Lo adoro!” 

You laughed lightly, “Welcome, Theo.” You turned to Enzo who was now giggling while fitting a mini witch hat atop Mocha’s head. “I cannot believe you made this, it’s perfect. Did you measure Mocha’s little head or something? Also, thank you for the scarf.” Enzo chose a grin versus cheek kisses but you understood he was thankful all the same. 

“You’re welcome Enz,” you walked over to him to give Mocha a little pet, “and you’re welcome, too, Mocha.” 

After a little while, you gathered your things to head back to your dorm for the night. “Leaving already? But we just started catching up,” Enzo pouted, crossing his arms like a small child. 

“We’ll catch up more tomorrow, Enz. I promise,” you made your way to the door with your things, “But you guys are all back now so I can’t sleep in Theo’s bed anymore; that’d be weird. See you guys at breakfast!” 

You gave a wave as you opened the door, turning quickly to leave. While walking out you crash in to none other than Draco. “Eugh, watch where you’re going you twit,” Draco brushed the front of his robes as if your touch had now made them filthy. You huffed through your nose, rolling your eyes. 

You then took a step back and bowed, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Many apologies, Draco. I’m truly so sorry. Surprised I couldn’t smell you through the door with the amount of cologne you’re wearing. Mummy get that for you for Christmas? Do give her my best.” 

Draco scowled as he pushed past you; you gave a wink to everyone else before scurrying out the door and closing it behind you. The little exchange was not fully heard by the other three in the room, but as always, Mattheo noticed some interaction. 

Brought back from his thoughts Theo was complaining in Italian, “Compagno, my guy. Did badger really lay sleep in my bed all of vacanza? A man’s bed is sacra! Sacred!” Enzo shrugged, “At least your bed will smell good now.” 

Mattheo and Theo turned to look at him quizzically. “What?” Enzo’s voice raised half an octave, “I am not the only one who notices they always smell nice. You guys are lying to yourselves.” 

Draco decided this was the moment he was going to join the conversation. “You let a mudblood sleep in our quarters for two weeks? Merlin, cousin. You’ve really gone to the dogs haven’t you.”  Mattheo was up and off Enzo’s bed in an instant, the latter quickly wrapping an arm around Matty’s shoulders to hold him back. 

“Shut your hole, cousin. Or I’ll give you another black eye. I’ll make it my annual Christmas gift to you,” Mattheo was straining against Enzo’s hold slightly, but still holding himself back. 

Draco simply rolled his eyes in annoyance, “Oh, please. You know what, go ahead. Give me a good punch. Maybe then I’ll write to dear Auntie Bella and she’ll make sure you never come home for holiday again. Both my manor and yours were quite peaceful without your presence. The Christmas ball went off without any..” Draco eyed Mattheo up and down, “pathetic interruptions. Isn’t that right boys.” 

He was referring to Theo and Enzo. Both of whose parents made it mandatory of them to attend the usual Malfoy party. If he were really asking them their opinion they would’ve said how boring the party was without their friend. But Draco wasn’t really asking, he was just trying to add fuel to the fire. 

"But I'm sure you'd like that wouldn't you, Matty," Draco seemed to use the nickname you called Mattheo like an insult. "You get banned from holidays and can spend them with your bottom feeder. Couldn't even splurged for a half-breed as your little pet, huh?"

Mattheo was seething now. Draco could insult Mattheo all he wanted. The things his cousin said were never nearly as bad as what his mother, or even his father when he was around, would say to him. But the way he was talking about you? Mattheo couldn't let him get away with that.

And the other two knew it, too. Enzo's hold losing power. So Theo and Enzo shared a look, the former nodding at the latter. Then Enzo released his hold on Mattheo. 

When he realized what was about to actually happen, Draco paled further than he already was. Before he could grab his wand or put up his hands in defense Mattheo had his fist connecting with Draco’s jaw. 

The blonde stumbled back, Mattheo taking the opportunity to hit him again, this time in the stomach. With Draco doubled over, Mattheo braced his hands on his cousins back before raising his knee to connect with Draco’s ribs.

“You pathetic piece of shit,” Mattheo let Draco fall to the ground. Malfoy groaned, clutching his abdomen. Mattheo kneeled down next to him, “You’re a waste of space, Draco. You wish you were half as good of a person as any of my friends, especially y/n.” His fist connected with Draco’s nose, blood immediately gushing from his face. “You talk a big game but when it comes down to it, you’re the biggest fucking pussy I’ve ever met.” 

Mattheo landed a few more harsh blows to his cousin's face before Theo and Enzo were pulling him off. “No, let go of me. Mate, I’m serious. I’m not done, let me go,” Mattheo struggled against his friend's hold. 

Enzo shook his head even though Matty couldn’t see it, “We had to. He’s bleeding so much his hair’s starting to look like a Weasley.” Theo snorted at this, “Yes, his lesson is learned for now.” 

Blaise chose this moment to walk into the dorm. Taking in the scene around him. He looked at Draco in the middle of the room, rolled to his side and whining; platinum hair partially painted red. He then looked over at the rest of the boys, Mattheo panting and calming his breath as he slowly relaxed in his friend’s hold. 

“He ran his mouth again didn’t he,” Blaise shook his head before dropping his things on his bed. “Okay, Berk. Help me take him to Pomfrey.” Enzo looked at Theo, silently asking if he thought Mattheo would be civil if he let him go. 

“I’m fine. Go, help him,” Mattheo slumped down against the foot of his bed once Enzo released him. Enzo walked over and helped Blaise hoist up Draco. The three of them slowly making their way out and presumably towards the infirmary. 

Theo slid down next to Mattheo, sitting with him in silence for a moment. “Do you think they’re gonna hate me,” Mattheo’s voice was small, almost inaudible to Theo’s ears. “Who do you mean? Draco?” Theo was confused, Matty didn’t really seem like he cared what Draco thought anymore. 

Mattheo shook his head, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He set his chin on his knees, staring blankly in front of him, “Do you think y/n is going to hate me.” 

Theo felt a little awkward, not really knowing the right thing to say. He tried to channel someone wise, to give his friend good advice. “Erm, I do not think they will be hating you. Emotions are hard. We have to let them out or else we’ll…como si dice…eruttare?” 

Mattheo turned his head towards Theo, brows furrowed, “I don’t know that word, mate.” Theo pulled at his bottom lip, thinking hard about how to say what he meant. He mimed a mountain or maybe a volcano? Mattheo wasn't sure but he watched intently as Theo then threw his hands from the mountain shape into the air, making explosion noises with his mouth. 

“Erupt?” Mattheo questioned. A look of relief washed over Theo, “Yes! Yes. Compagno, if we don’t let emotions out all the time we can erupt. Y/n will not hate you. But they might be sad for you.” 

Mattheo nodded, eyes turning blank again before hiding his face in his knees. Theo noticed Mattheo’s shoulders begin to slightly shake. Then he heard a few sniffles.

His friend was crying. 

So Theo did as his mother always did for him and started to rub Mattheos back consolingly, thinking maybe it would be comforting. Mattheo tensed at first, then began to relax. And Theo let him cry.

[yourhoneyisquiet]

And so it was that every adventurer in the land from that day forward was bestowed 50 ft of rope, the primary industrial output of Port Talon.

[twopoppies]

Poll idea: when did you become a larrie (from 2010-2024)

Oh, I’ve never made a poll, but that’s a fun idea. Except it won’t let me put that many choices, so I’ll have to combine the years a bit.

If you’d like, give us some specific details in the tags. What brought you in? Which year specifically?

Please boost for a bigger sample size.

Also, don’t come for me. The highlights are just off the top of my head, not everything that happened each year)

[beautification-tales]

The Frump

A female version of the Nutty Professor

Patty Frump was a scientist who didn't quite fit the stereotype. Her body curved in ways that defied the lab coat she wore with pride. It was her mind that was her true asset, not her looks, though she often wished it were the other way around. Her hair was a wild mess of untamed black curls that fought against the confines of her safety goggles. Her eyes, however, were sharp, a piercing brown that could spot an inconsistency in data from a mile away. Patty had a way with numbers and formulas that made the other professors at the university green with envy.

Her office was a cluttered sanctuary of textbooks and experiments gone awry. She liked to think of it as organized chaos, but even she had to admit it was more chaos than order. The walls were plastered with sticky notes and scribbled theories that only she could decode. It was in this mess that she had made her most significant discovery, a breakthrough that could change the field of biochemistry forever. But she hadn't told anyone about it yet.

The door swung open, interrupting her train of thought. In sailed Victoria, all legs and red hair, with Drake trailing behind her like a lost puppy. Patty's heart skipped a beat. She had hoped to avoid them today.

Victoria looked around the room with feigned disgust, her delicate nose wrinkling at the scent of old coffee and chemicals. "My dear Patty," she began in her syrupy sweet voice, "I see your office hasn't changed since the last time I 'accidentally' knocked over your experiment."

Patty clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white as she forced a smile. "Victoria, Drake," she said as evenly as she could. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Victoria smirked, her glossy red lips parting to reveal perfectly straight teeth. She stepped closer, her high heels clicking against the tiles. "Oh, I just wanted to show Drake your latest... masterpiece," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she gestured to the mess of beakers and flasks on Patty's desk. "It's so quaint, really. Like watching someone try to solve a Rubik's cube with boxing gloves on."

Patty's cheeks grew hot with anger as Drake chuckled politely. She knew he didn't mean it, but the sound still felt like a slap in the face. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. "It's not for show, Victoria," she replied, her voice steady. "It's for science. Maybe if you spent less time worrying about your hair and more time in the lab, you'd understand that."

“Do you like my hair? Drakey poo?” Victoria cooed, twirling a lock of her fiery mane around her finger. “He says I look like a goddess today.” Drake looked down blushing.

Patty’s eyes narrowed as she watched the two of them. The sight of Victoria’s hand on Drake’s arm made her want to scream. It was like watching someone else live out her fantasy, a twisted soap opera playing out in real life. She clenched her jaw and tried to ignore the ache in her chest.

Victoria giggled as her hand slowly slid to his crotch, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Why don't you tell Patty how hard you are... I mean, how hard I work," she corrected with a wink.

Drake coughed, “Victoria, please behave yourself.” He looked uncomfortable under Patty's gaze.

But Victoria wasn’t done. She leaned in closer to Drake, her ample chest pressing against his arm. "Oh, darling, don't be shy. Patty's a scientist, she understands the importance of... collaboration." She batted her eyelashes at him, her voice a purr.

Patty had enough. She couldn't stand another second of Victoria's blatant flirting with Drake, especially not in her own office. The room felt like it was closing in on her as she watched the scene unfold. Her rival's hand lingered on Drake's arm, her touch possessive and taunting. Patty felt the jealousy boil in her gut like one of her forgotten chemistry experiments.

“Well I think you’ve seen enough. Thanks for stopping by.” Patty’s voice was tight, her eyes locked on Victoria’s hand as it continued to dance across Drake’s arm. She hoped the subtle hint would be enough to make them leave.

Victoria’s smile never wavered, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Before we go, Patty, I just wanted to give you a little... advice.” She stepped closer, her heels echoing in the small room. “You know, I’ve noticed you’ve been putting on a bit more weight recently. It’s such a shame. All those late nights in the lab alone. Maybe you should cut back on the midnight snacking and spend more time in the gym, like me and Drake do. After all, a healthy body is a healthy mind, right?” She patted her own flat stomach, her voice as sugary as the sweetest candy.

Drake looked upset at Victoria’s mean comment. Victoria pushed her backside into his crotch, and his eyes fluttered. Patty’s heart sank. Was he really that into her? It was as if Victoria held the sweet man hostage with her perfect body. The thought made Patty aware of her looks again. She felt the weight of her body as if it had doubled. She knew Victoria’s words were cruel, but they stung.

“Let’s go pookie. We have so much work to do tonight. Don’t we?” Victoria said, her voice sticky with sweetness that didn’t quite mask the acid underneath. She winked at Patty before sauntering out of the office, her hips swaying like a metronome set to the beat of Patty’s heartache.

Patty rolled her eyes at Victoria’s comment. She knew Victoria was just trying to get under her skin, but it still hurt. She watched them leave, feeling the weight of her body like a physical burden. As the door clicked shut behind them, she slumped into her chair, the anger and jealousy giving way to sadness. She looked around her cluttered office, feeling more alone than ever.

The silence was deafening, and Patty found herself reaching for the comfort of a chocolate bar hidden in her bottom drawer. She took a bite, the sweetness briefly numbing the pain of Victoria’s words. But as she chewed, she felt a spark of defiance. She wasn’t going to let Victoria’s spitefulness define her.

Patty’s gaze fell on the unassuming vial of experimental formula on her desk. It had been a side project, something she’d been tinkering with to combat the effects of aging. The serum was designed to regenerate cells and boost metabolism. It was a breakthrough, but she’d been too busy with her main research to test it. But what if it could give her the body Victoria flaunted so freely? The thought was tantalizing.

Her mind raced as she weighed the pros and cons. It was risky, but the potential payoff was huge. If it worked, she could show Victoria that she wasn’t just a brainiac, but a force to be reckoned with in every aspect. The idea grew in her mind, a beacon of hope in the sea of despair that was her love life.

Patty stood up, her chair scraping against the floor, and marched over to the fridge. She took out the vial of experimental serum and held it up to the light, watching the liquid swirl. She had always been meticulous in her work, but now she felt a thrill of rebellion. The formula was supposed to be used on rats, but she was tired of being treated like one.

Her heart racing, she took a deep breath and uncorked the vial. The scent was faintly metallic, but not unpleasant. She had poured her soul into this creation, and now she was going to use it for something more than just science. The liquid shimmered like liquid gold, promising a transformation.

Patty took a moment to consider the consequences. It was a bold move, one that could ruin her career if it went wrong. But she was tired of feeling like the invisible woman. With a determined look, she raised the vial to her lips and took a swig. It tasted bitter, like the disappointment of a thousand unrequited crushes. She winced but swallowed it down.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a warmth began to spread through her body, starting at her toes and moving up like a slow-burning fire. It was like a warm summer's day, wrapping around her and making her feel alive. She could feel her cells vibrating with newfound energy, and she knew the serum was working. She set the vial down and took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

Patty looked down and gasped. Her clothes were baggy, hanging off her in a way they never had before. She could see the outline of her waist, the bulge of her stomach retreating like a deflating balloon. Her breasts felt lighter, her ass firming up like two scoops of ice cream that had just come out of the freezer. She reached up and squeezed, feeling the firmness and tone she had never had before. It was like watching a time-lapse of a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, except it was happening to her.

Her hand went to her hair next. The wild black curls had straightened out and cascaded down her back, reaching her waist. It was as if each strand had been gently tugged and elongated, creating a sleek and shiny waterfall. She couldn't help but run her fingers through it, feeling the softness and weight she had never experienced. The transformation was incredible, and she felt like a new person.

As Patty moved to the mirror, her eyes widened in amazement. Her reflection showed muscles rippling beneath her skin, her arms no longer the soft, slightly flabby limbs she had always known. They were now toned and strong, like those of a gymnast. She flexed her biceps, watching in awe as they bulged. The same was true for her legs and abs. The serum had not only melted away her fat, but it had also sculpted her into a vision of physical perfection.

The transformation had done more than just change her body, however. It had also altered her mind, and as she stared at her new form, she felt a cold, calculating deviousness creep in. The jealousy and sadness she had felt just moments ago had been replaced by a fiery determination to show Victoria she was not someone to be underestimated. The serum had unlocked a part of her she never knew existed, a dark side that craved revenge and attention.

“I’m better than her now… hmmm I’m better than most women now.” The thought whispered seductively through Patty’s newly sharpened mind. She couldn’t help the smug smile that curled her lips as she twirled around in her suddenly too-large lab coat. The serum had done more than just give her the body of a supermodel; it had given her the confidence of a goddess.

Her next stop was the mall, where she knew she’d find clothes that would showcase her new figure. The thrill of trying on outfits she never thought she’d fit into was intoxicating. The saleswomen looked at her with a mix of awe and envy as she strutted from the dressing room, each outfit more flattering than the last. She settled on a tight, black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and a pair of stiletto heels that made her legs look endless. Patty felt like a lioness in a field of gazelles.

The following day, with her new look and a plan in mind, Patty made her way to the university gym. It was early, and she knew Victoria and Drake would be there, sweating it out before their classes. She walked in, the sound of her heels echoing through the empty corridor, and felt a rush of excitement. The gym was like a battleground, and she was ready to conquer it.

Spotting Drake on the treadmill, she approached him with a sway in her step that was both natural and deliberate. His eyes widened as he took in her svelte figure. He looked up from his run, his sweat-drenched face lighting up with surprise. "Dr. Drake Adams?” She asked him.

"Yes? Do I...know you?" He stumbled over his words, his eyes scanning her body, trying to compose himself. “No, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Fabienne.” She said with her hand outstretched, her voice now a smoky siren's call.

Patty watched with satisfaction as Drake’s eyes grew even wider, his hand swallowed by hers. The gym was a far cry from her usual domain, but in this new form, she felt at ease. She had chosen the name Fabienne on a whim, something that sounded exotic and alluring, a name that would make heads turn.

"Fabienne," he repeated, the sound rolling off his tongue like a caress. "You're new here, aren't you?" His voice was thick with curiosity, and Patty could see the attraction in his gaze. She had to admit, the serum had worked better than she could have ever hoped.

Patty, now Fabienne, leaned against the treadmill, her body language deliberately inviting. "Just passing through," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She had no intention of letting him know her true identity. "But I've heard so much about the legendary Drake Adams. I had to come see for myself."

It was then that Victoria strutted in, her eyes narrowing when they fell on the newcomer. She was dressed in skintight workout gear that left nothing to the imagination, her red hair pulled back into a high ponytail that bobbed as she moved. She had always had a flair for the dramatic, and her arrival was no exception. Patty felt a pang of nerves, but she steeled herself. This was her moment.

“Pookie can you come spot me at the squat rack?” She didn’t even look at Patty, her eyes locked on Drake as she sailed past. Patty’s jaw clenched as she watched Victoria’s perfect body in motion. But she knew she had the upper hand now.

“Oh that sounds perfect. I needed someone to spot me for some reps too.” Fabienne said, her voice dripping with honey. She could feel the tension in the room thicken as Victoria finally looked at her. The look of shock on Victoria’s face was priceless. It was clear she had no idea who this new woman was, and Patty savored the moment.

“I’m Fabienne by the way. I’m sorry I distracted your boyfriend from working out. I’m just a really big fan.” Patty squeezed her arms into her bosom making her cleavage even more impressive. She watched Victoria’s eyes flicker with annoyance and a hint of something else. Intrigue? Jealousy? It was working.

Victoria’s eyes narrowed as she approached. “I’m sure Drake has better things to do than spot us both. Besides, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of challenge.

“Yeah I definitely would remember meeting a wo… a person like you.” Drake said, his cheeks reddening as he stumbled over his words. Fabienne just smirked. “I don’t mind I can spot for you both.” He said with a hopeful smile, eager to keep the peace.

Victoria’s eyes flashed with something that looked a lot like anger, but she forced a smile. “That’s so sweet of you, Drake. But I’m sure Fabienne here can handle her own workout.” She stepped aside and gestured to the squat rack.

“Not at this weight. I’m kind of nervous about it and having a big strong man to help me would really put me at ease.” Patty put two more plates on both sides. The weights clanked loudly. Victoria’s eyes widened. Patty had never been one to show off at the gym, but she felt a thrill at the challenge.

“There’s no way you can squat that!” Victoria said with a dismissive laugh, her voice carrying across the gym. Fabienne’s smile grew wider, the challenge accepted. She positioned herself under the barbell with the grace of a ballet dancer, her newfound strength evident in every movement. The weight she had chosen was one that even some of the strongest men at the university struggled with.

With a deep breath, Fabienne hoisted the barbell onto her shoulders, feeling the weight settle into place. Her muscles coiled like springs, ready to propel her upwards. She could feel Victoria’s eyes on her, burning with a mix of skepticism and envy. Without another word, Fabienne began her squat, her legs bending smoothly, muscles flexing with each inch she descended. The barbell didn’t waver.

Drake carefully stepped aside, his eyes glued to Fabienne as she took position under the barbell. The weight she had chosen was indeed impressive, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the prospect of seeing her in action. As Fabienne began to squat, her body moving with a grace and power that belied her earlier clumsy persona, Victoria's laughter died in her throat. The barbell remained steady, not a single wobble, as Fabienne sank lower and lower, her thighs parallel to the ground.

Victoria's own workout was forgotten as she stared, unable to tear her gaze away. The sight of Fabienne's perfect form, the way her muscles rippled with each movement, was like watching a finely-tuned machine in motion. Patty had always been the brainy one, but now she had the body to match, and it was clear that she was enjoying every moment of Victoria's shock.

Patty felt like she could carry the heavy weight for hours, but she knew she had to make an exit that was just as dramatic as her entrance. She stayed low and grunted as if she was struggling. “A little help please.” She called out sweetly to Drake. He looked torn between helping her and staying by Victoria’s side.

Victoria’s eyes flashed with something unreadable, but she stepped aside with a forced smile, allowing Drake to come to Patty’s rescue. He moved behind her, his strong arms ready to catch the barbell if she stumbled. As he took position, Patty leaned back into him, pressing her now firm and shapely ass against his crotch. She felt him stiffen, his breath catching in his throat. The fabric of her outfit was thin, and she knew he could feel every inch of her new body. She took a moment to savor the power she held over him, the way he looked at her with a mix of awe and desire.

Patty moaned as she lifted up and pushed her ass further into Drake’s crotch. His eyes widened and his grip on the barbell tightened. He didn’t know how to react, his mind racing with confusion and arousal. He had always thought Patty was attractive in a nerdy sort of way, but now, as Fabienne, she was a whole new level of temptation.

“Thank you! It was so hard!” Patty exclaimed as she placed the barbell back on the rack with a thud that echoed through the gym. She turned around and looked up at Drake with a sparkle in her eyes. “Excuse me?” Victoria’s voice was as sharp as a knife cutting through butter. Patty turned to her rival with a knowing smile. “That last rep was so very hard but so needed to keep this so tight.” She ran her hand over her now firm and toned ass.

“It looks great” Drake said with a grin that was more genuine than Patty had ever seen from him before. Victoria’s face fell, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “Pookie!” She called out, trying to regain his attention, but he was already entranced by Fabienne’s performance.

“Mmm thanks for the compliment… pookie.” Patty said, her voice a low purr as she stepped away from the squat rack. She knew Victoria’s pet name for Drake was supposed to be endearing, but coming from her mouth it sounded like a taunt. She sauntered over to the water fountain, her new hips swinging with each step. She took a sip, her full lips curving into a smug smile as she watched Victoria’s eyes follow her every move.

But as she swallowed the water, something strange began to happen. The warmth from the serum that had been pulsing through her veins started to fade, leaving a cold, empty feeling in its wake. She felt her body changing, her muscles softening, her curves becoming less pronounced. Panic set in as she realized that the transformation wasn’t permanent. She had hoped to keep her new body for good, but it seemed the serum had a time limit.

Patty grabbed her bag and rushed for the door. She had to get back to her lab, to find a way to stabilize the serum's effects. But she hadn't taken more than a step before Victoria's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Fabienne, wait!" she called out, her tone a mix of desperation and fury.

“Listen bitch who do you think you are?” Victoria’s voice was a snarl, her eyes blazing with anger as she approached Patty, who was desperately trying to hold onto her new form. Patty's hair was receding slowly as her stomach gurgled as fat cells were expanding within her. Victoria flashed a look of disgust at the sound. "Sorry not feeling so good. I gotta go!" Patty ran to her car at full speed.

As she jumped into her car, the transformation back into her old self was in full swing. Her workout outfit clinging to her growing body, Patty managed to get the key into the ignition just as Victoria burst out of the gym doors. The engine roared to life, and Patty peeled out of the parking lot, her heart racing as she watched Victoria in the rearview mirror.

Patty stopped trying to hold back as she ballooned back to her old proportions. Her hair fully receded back to short and curly as her vision became blurry again. Victoria watched as Patty drove away wondering why Fabienne had the exact same car as her rival Patty.

Patty will take the serum again…

[gowonzu2]

Supergirl adapting to Earth Culture

One thing I always think about, is the lack of stories about Supergirl/Kara having to adapt to a whole new culture. A story that focused more on her initial arrival to earth, struggling to learn the language and adapt to the culture.

Ontop of dealing with the grief of losing everyone and thing you ever knew

Like, what would a Kryptonian accent sound like? Would the typical American assume shes European? Or Middle Eastern? etc. Think of all the stories you can make on that, both silly and serious. ----------------------------------- Clark giving Kara a phone "Whats this?" "A communication device." Kara holds up the phone and inspects it. "You touch the screen here and swipe it to unlock." Kara swipes up, away from the phone, expecting it to be some kind of hologram interface. Gets annoyed when Clark chuckles at her. -------------------------------- Clark tries to introduce Kara to Earth cuisine Places the plate down in front of her, Kara tries to stifle her grimace. "Its… brown?" "It's steak. Very popular around here." Kara takes a hesitant bite, is surprised by the taste. "Oh, that taste just like Khaver!" -(said in kryptionian, no relation) "Khaver?" "It's a protein rich synthetic food back home, usually blue or purple, my Dad always used it in his soups." Kara looks at the steak wistfully, then turns to the other food. "The greens taste exactly how I expected them to. But what are these small orange cubes?" "Carrots, diced and boiled." "And this fluffy white thing tastes great, is it a fungus of some kind?" "No, its a potato. Its uh, popular vegetable that can be cooked in a variety of ways. This is mashed potato. A personal favourite of mine too." The pair settle in to dinner. "So… purple synthetic food? Was that normal on Krypton?" "Hmm. Synth food was. Khaver was a little more… up class?" "Ah, i see." "I take it Earth doesn't produce synthetic food?" "Its an emerging field, but its not really. Most everything we eat is grown on farms of some kind." "Oh, I just assumed… So what's this steak made from?" "Uh, cows?" "Is that some kind of tree?" "Its a… animal. We flew past a few on the way here…" Kara pales and chokes on her bite as Clark slowly realises his mistake. Modern Kryptonians never ate meat and Kara finds the whole idea repulsive. Constantly calls human culture barbaric in her language for the next month and a half.

[windforkthewriter]

The story is that basically me, my sister and her husband were watching the deadpool saga and we got to deadpool and wolverine. He sees the car scene and goes "their going to fuck, aren't they?" Then my sister goes "oh are you going to stop watching" and he goes "fuck no, gayest power couple. Hell yeah.". Their both catholics.

OH MY GOD YES!

Wow, that's absolutely brilliant. I cannot for the life of me wrap my head around it. Your sister, and her husband is are incredible. Just wow. I love this! Thank you!!! Thank you so much for sharing!

(I'm about to watch DP & Wolverine today with my family who are all usually pretty blind to gay people, and here I was about to whip out my board of Poolverine proof... But this might just work!)

[canibuysometoxicwaste]

Hugh Jackman - X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009)

[resurrectionist3]

More Thoughts for Heretic (2024)

(Because i think about nothing else these days..)

Um.. i think i’ve just had a very wild and in depth revelation about Mr. Reed as a character and his potential backstory (and insight on why and how he became the way he is in the film).

I want to post it because it feels like something that more people should know, but at the same time I’m afraid of acting like its a whole brand new exciting discovery and then having people respond with “well yeah duh.. wasn’t that obvious..?”

I don’t know, I think i’m going to type it all our just to get my thoughts out of my head and then I’ll go from there.

I’ve lowkey been DYING to write any fan fictions about Mr. Reed too, i have a lot of ideas. But this one idea of him as a young man in college first discovering his one true religion and embracing it has been filling ny head for the past like two weeks.

I NEED to write it but also i know that I’m the greatest procrastinator and perfectionist the world has ever seen and it may not ever get written because of it…

to put into perspective, i have one fan fiction in mind that i’ve been planning since December of 2023. Now it’s December of 2024 and it still has gone nowhere. I have some fanfics that have sat since 2022… and still have gone nowhere

[thatone-midgardian]

Threads of Destiny: The Stark Chronicles Poster

Made by me

[novankenn]

Spirits of Vengeance...

(1)- the Rider (Yang)

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!!" Yang screamed at the shadows inside the garage at her family home on Patch. "WE HAD A DEAL!"

"We did..." came a sinister almost hissing voice from all about her. "and I kept up my end."

"How? How did you? Mom is gone! She's gone!" Yang wailed tears flowing down her cheeks.

"I brought her back, like you asked..." the voice informed the distraught young woman. "We never agreed on how long she would stay..."

"So it was you!" Yang pushed down her sorrow and latched on to the burning rage with in her heart. "You did that to her and Ruby!"

"I did not." the voice replied. "I do not HURT my investments."

"I'm not an investment!"

"Oh my dear, dear Yang... yes you are."

"Bring them both back! I'll make another deal! Just bring them back!"

"I'm sorry my little sun-dragon... but you only get one deal."

"You can do it!" Yang wailed "You did it once you can do it again!"

"I'm sorry Yang... but without a deal... I can't..."

"But..." Yang collapsed to her knees , wrapping her arms around herself in a vain attempt to stop her shaking. "Why... why..."

"I wish I could tell you why..." the voice answered. "I truly do, but I have no answers for you... at least not yet."

"Yet?" Yang looked up to see a set of ominous and sinister glowing eyes in the deepest shadows of the garage. "What... what?"

"I have a job for you... and while you work to complete it... I'll find out the why and who of what happened to your mother and sister... deal?"

"Wait... you said no more..."

"This is not the same type of deal you made with me ten years ago..." the voice replied, "This is more of a verbal agreement. You do something for me... I'll do something for you."

"I... I..."

"Yang, my little sun-dragon... you really have no choice. I made an investment in you. I nurtured you strength, and wellness. I empowered you... now I aim to collect..."

"I won't..."

"You will. You have no choice... though if you... willingly choose to complete this task... I can do things in return... like find your mom and sister... so... what is your choice?"

"You swear?" Yang choked out as she forced herself to her feet. "You swear if I do this you will find them?"

"Have I EVER broken a promise to you?" the voice asked in response. "Will you be my rider?"

"Yes..." Yang answered with a shaking voice.

"Say it!"

"Yes, I will be your Rid.... ARGH!!!!!" Yang twisted about, pain shredding through her body. She staggered and fell to her knees as smoke began to flicker about her body. Wispy tongues of orange flame licked about her flesh, and she shrieked in agony.

"The change gets easier... with time." the voice commented as Yang's pale flesh melted and then was charred away. Floating into the air as specks of ash.

The sounds of her screams had never left the garage. The shadows having deadened them into complete silence... so there was no one but it to witness as the once vibrant beauty rose to her feet. All her exposed flesh was gone, leaving nothing but gleaming bone wreathed in flickering flames. Her once long golden locks now nothing but a cascade of rolling flames.

"Go. Vale. Her name is Trivia Vanille, though she goes more by Neo nowadays." the Rider turned it blazing eyes towards the origin of the sinister voice. "She is not wat she appears to be. Send her home."

"Send. Her. Home." the Rider hissed out in a guttural voice, before it moved forward towards her alternate body's pride and joy. As soon as its flaming fingers touched the motorcycle, flames leap forward and coiled about it. Slowly the formerly sleek street bike twisted taking a shape more inline with its new owner.

With a hissing snarl the Rider gunned the engine and tore out of the garage and down the short driveway, leaving a trail of flickering flames as it went.

The red eyes watched the Rider leave, before they too faded away.

(Master List)

[extraordinaryhistories]

#31 - 'Love Yourself (1996 demo)' (Love Yourself single, 2019)

The 1996 demo of the song that would later become the stately, endlessly tasteful ‘Love Yourself’ is the earliest recording that we know to exist from Sufjan Stevens. Before Javelin, before ‘Mystery of Love’, before Carrie and Lowell, before ‘Impossible Soul’ and ‘All Delighted People’ and Illinois and ‘Romulus’, before even ‘Rake’ or ‘Happy Birthday’ or ‘Julia’, there was 1996’s ‘Love Yourself’, this chipped, scuffed, rain-beaten and wind-worn minute and sixteen seconds of pure, unmolested song. Welcome, everyone, to the ur-text of Sufjan’s catalogue. Make yourself at home.

If you’re ever hosting a Sufjan trivia night, here’s a fun question for you: excluding live performances and external remixes, which Sufjan Stevens song has the most released versions? Has to be ‘Chicago’, right? Original studio cut, of course, and then the acoustic, adult contemporary and ‘Multiple Personality’ versions on The Avalanche; coupled with the demo version released in 2016, that makes five. If you guessed ‘Chicago’, you’d be right, but only sort of. ‘Chicago’ is tied only with, of all songs, ‘Love Yourself’. Sufjan released three separate demos of ‘Love Yourself’, all developed before the finished song finally escaped his clutches in 2018: one recorded in 1996, one in 1999, and one in 2011(!), around the last leg of the Age of Adz tour. A fifth version, an instrumental reprise of the song on the official 7” single, rounds out the total. No Sufjan song has had such a prolonged gestational period as ‘Love Yourself’. He knew he had something of worth here, and spent over two decades trying – and, until 2018, failing – to make it work.

Most of his solutions to the ‘problem’ of ‘Love Yourself’ were electronic. Taken together, the various versions of ‘Love Yourself’ almost make for an excellent stylistic map of Sufjan’s career, from its earliest folky stages to its older, wizened, electronica-flecked apex (I say ‘almost’ because no versions have been released from his orchestral period in the mid-2000s, if any existed in the first place.) But before that apex could reached – before Sufjan found that most platonically perfect expression of ‘Love Yourself’ in 2018 – there was a college-aged kid, with a guitar and a tape recorder, covering the walls of his dorm room with cushions so his neighbours couldn’t hear him. To show this (no other word for it) insane development of musicianship and personality, Sufjan placed the song’s very first attempt right next to its very last attempt on the official single release. Perhaps the intent was to show continuity (of melody, of lyricism, of instinct), but the overall impression – charmingly, to be clear – is one of a cold, hard rip in time.

One cannot really overemphasise how archaeologically fascinating the existence of this version is. Sufjan, a long-suffering oboist in his youth, first began to learn guitar during his time at Hope College. He became good at it quite quickly, and by his final semester in 1998, Sufjan was ready to record an entire guitar-driven full length debut. 1996, though? The Sufjan of 1996 would have been in his second or third year at Hope and still a newcomer not just to acoustic guitar, but to songwriting, period. Given how much of this era remains unreleased, ‘Love Yourself (1996 Demo)’ is as close as we might ever get to hearing what Sufjan’s truest origins sound like. Every mighty tree was once a sapling; the 1996 four-track version of ‘Love Yourself’ is little more than a newly-sprouted seed. It may very well be one of the first songs he ever wrote.

The element of this version that betrays the most inexperience is the main guitar figure. Far from the busy electronics of later versions, the 1996 demo is centred on an endlessly-looping guitar vamp that breaks only for a small middle-eight. The perpetual swaying motion of the riff, with clearly audible slides up and down the guitar neck, feels harmonically neutral but rhythmically colourful and evocative of a waltz (one of the most significant differences between the initial and final versions of this song is the metre – 2018’s ‘Love Yourself’ is in a martial 4/4, whereas 1996’s ‘Love Yourself’ is in 6/8.) Considering that this riff was probably borne out of necessity – one imagines that a later take on this same arrangement would have included more chords – it is a surprisingly unique figure, one that effectively conveys warmth and soft golden light. Small guitar overdubs add texture, including one left-channel overdub at around fifteen seconds in that glides along with a genuinely pretty counterpoint. Do not confuse youthful simplicity with a bankrupt composition! It’s a song that could not have come from Sufjan at any other point in his life (quite like ‘Jamila’ in that sense.)

Most of the other pieces that would later make up 2018’s ‘Love Yourself’ are here, albeit in a truncated form. The melodic refrain, although sung in a weedy register and modified slightly to fit the 6/8 metre, is nearly identical to future iterations. Its lyrics likewise have the same general thrust, except there are less of them, and they are more repetitive. ‘Love yourself / You are the one thing I needed’ was clearly perfect enough as a mission statement to carry through, unaltered, all the way to 2018. That right there is the main take-away; the rest is noise.

But ‘Love Yourself (1996 Demo)’ has one clear rhetorical difference to the final version. It is a subtle one, but it’s there, and there is an argument to be made that it gives this demo a lyrical edge. There is an urgency of message to the 1996 version that isn’t replicated elsewhere – more insistence, more of a genuine sense of concern and care. Fewer lyrics exist here, but the ones that do are direct and mantra-like: ‘Love yourself,’ ‘Hold yourself’, ‘Change yourself’, ‘Make a shelf’, and, finally, ‘Love myself.’ It is as if Sufjan is legitimising the main message through repetition of structure. He knows it’s a hard conceit to stomach, so he’ll keep saying it until the words begin to sound true. Sincerity through simplicity – with 1990s Sufjan, it’s the name of the game.

There are two moments in particular here that stand out as tangibly different to the final version. The first: ‘Change yourself / Love yourself.’ Obviously the change in question might just be the act of transmuting one’s self-hatred into self-care; richer ways to read the song’s middle eight exist, though. The notion that changing parts of the self is ultimately not possible, and if itis then it’s tantamount to conceding defeat, is a myth. There is something liberating in admitting that certain portions of the tapestry of your character – ego, arrogance, envy, self-consciousness – are not what you want to contain within you. Changing yourself can very well be a path to loving yourself (or, expressed differently, making yourself more loveable.) It’s a surprisingly mature and worldly conclusion for a young man like Sufjan to reach, and seeing it in this early version of ‘Love Yourself’ is a real pleasure. Its omission from the final cut is a tragedy.

The second big difference: the ending. ‘Love Yourself (1996 Demo)’ has a narrative structure that is simple, effective, and not present in the 2018 song. Future versions of ‘Love Yourself’ have their gaze directed entirely outward: this song is an anthem for you, the listener, and nobody else. The 1996 demo is the only rendition to turn that gaze inward, and it does so in the very last lines of the song: ‘Love myself / I am the one thing I needed’. I am a very big fan of this sentiment as the rhetorical climax of the song and am perplexed as to why Sufjan thought to remove it in future versions. The change of address is a classically strong, satisfying narrative moment; it gives the illusion of a defined narrator with their own hopes, fears and need for affirmation. Suddenly the sentiments in ‘Love Yourself’ feel less platitudinous, more personal. Irrespective of all that, ‘Love myself / I am the one thing I needed’ is just a good and true message. We can get so easily caught up in the desire to affirm others that we forget to affirm ourselves. If you believe in everybody’s fundamental goodness and then recuse yourself from that same belief, what’s the use in that? It can only start with you, remember.

There are a good number of Sufjan fans who prefer this tiny, embryonic seed of a ‘Love Yourself’ to the giant, assertive redwood that it would eventually become. I do not consider myself among that group, but I absolutely understand their argument. Every other version of ‘Love Yourself’ feels like a massive (and massively impersonal) rah-rah anthem. It fits the song, to be sure, but embiggening the sound naturally causes the little things to get lost – things like the hug of a good friend, say, or the pleasure of making a small, attainable goal. All those things are contained in ‘Love Yourself (1996 Demo)’, a thoroughly earnest vehicle for sentiments that speak less to the world and more to you. And if that’s what it takes to get the message through, this is the version for you.

Back in a time before Javelin, before ‘Mystery of Love’, before Carrie and Lowell, before ‘Impossible Soul’ and ‘All Delighted People’ and Illinois and ‘Romulus’, before even ‘Rake’ or ‘Happy Birthday’ or ‘Julia’, when the only Sufjan fans were his family and his friends and himself, the phrase ‘love yourself’ might not have meant more – but it certainly meant something different. Something smaller. Something just for you.

[twopoppies]

hi gina, since we're talking about antis: i joined the fandom during covid because i was bored and looked up different conspiracy theories and eventually landed on larry and thought "oh that's gonna be a fun evening"... except the more i read the more it made sense to me😅😅 i was a very casual 1d listener at that point and vaguely aware of harry, but afterwards i started listening to all of them with more intend and their music turned into such a comfort for me, especially louis' and I'm so glad that i was so bored that day in 2020😂😂

I'm so glad you were, too! The rabbit hole is deep and wide. Welcome!

[beautification-tales]

Late Bloomer

Penny often found herself standing in front of the mirror, examining her reflection with a critical eye. Her hair, dark and wavy, fell just past her shoulders; her eyes, a deep shade of green, were framed by long lashes. She had auburn freckles dotting the bridge of her nose, high cheekbones, and a mouth that was naturally curved into a frown. Her build was average; she wasn't thin, but she wasn't overweight either. She lived at home with her mother and often wondered if she was adopted.

Her mother, Janet, on the other hand, was nothing short of stunning. At the age of forty-five, she could easily pass for thirty. She had long, luscious hair that fell in perfect waves around her shoulders, and her deep brown eyes were framed by long, thick lashes. Her figure was enviable, with a tiny waist, full breasts, and hips that swayed whenever she walked. Even now, when Penny was in college and Janet had been a stay-at-home mom for years, men still turned their heads whenever she stepped out of the house.

It was almost every day that Janet brought a man home. Sometimes they were neighbors, other times they were colleagues, or even complete strangers she had met at the grocery store. It didn't matter who they were; they all seemed to be drawn to her mother's irresistible charm and beauty. Penny, on the other hand, often felt invisible in comparison. She knew she was pretty in her own way, but she couldn't help but feel like she was overshadowed by her mother's presence. Penny enjoyed the excuse of her studies as it let her out of the house. She couldn’t really study with the noises her mother and her “guest” would make all night.

Penny's life began to change when she met Roger at the school library. He was a classmate who was always fun to talk to, and they quickly became friends. They shared similar interests, like reading comics and anime, and they often found themselves spending time together outside of class. As they got to know each other better, Penny began to see herself through Roger's eyes. He thought she was beautiful and unique, and he made her feel special in ways that no one else could.

One day, Penny made the mistake of bringing Roger to her home. She was excited to show him where she came from and introduce him to her mother, but she hadn't expected the consequences. Janet came home dressed in a tight black dress as her ample bosom shook with each step as her ankle boots hit each step. Penny could see Roger gulp as he eyed her mother with a look that Penny had seen so many times before.

“Well, well, well look what little Penny brought home.” Janet said as she approached them on the couch.

Roger jumped up and offered his hand to shake. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Johnson."

Penny's eyes widened at the mention of her mother's last name. It was the first time anyone had called her by that name since she was a little girl. "Mom, this is Roger. We've been friends for a while now," she said, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Well, Roger, it's nice to finally meet you," Janet said, her voice low and seductive. She placed a hand on Roger's arm, as Roger smiled . Penny couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. "I understand you two have been studying together a lot lately. How nice."

"Yeah, we've had some pretty interesting discussions," Roger replied, not taking his eyes off Janet.

Penny felt her heart sink as she watched the interaction between her mother and Roger. She knew exactly where this was going, and she didn't want it to happen. But she didn't know how to stop it. As the conversation continued, Janet leaned in closer to Roger, laughing at something he said. Penny could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed nervously.

“Little Penny has always been a shy girl. She hardly talks to boys unless you count Naruto or any of those Anime characters on the tv she’s always watching.”

Penny’s face grew red with embarrassment as Janet talked about her. “Mom! Really?” She protested.

Janet gave Penny a knowing smile. "Oh, don't worry, dear. You know your mother only has your best interests at heart." She reached over and gave Penny's cheek a soft pat. "Now, why don't I give you two some privacy.”

“ Ms. Johnson you don’t have to go. I mean I would like to hear more embarrassing stories.”

Roger's words cut through Penny like a knife. She felt a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal. How could he want to hear more about her mother? Wasn't he supposed to be her friend?

“Oh no, unfortunately I have a date tonight. So I better get going but Roger… you can call me Janet.”

Penny felt her anger rising as she watched her mother saunter away, making sure to sway her hips just enough for Roger to get a good view. She wanted to scream, to hit something, to make this all stop. But instead, she turned to Roger and felt a lump forming in her throat. "Roger, I-I thought you would be different.”

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw regret flicker across his features. But then he smiled, a sad, forced smile that did nothing to reassure her. "I am different," he said, his voice quiet. "But Penny, I'm also a guy. And, well... your mom is like remarkably hot. It's kind of hard not to notice."

“Yeah, trust me every guy notices and it pisses me off. Now you can see why I don’t talk to guys!” Penny felt a rage that had been building inside her finally explode within her as tears began to roll down her face.

Roger looked conflicted as he glanced at her, then away. Finally, he moved closer, taking her hands in his. "Penny, I'm sorry. I really like you and trust me I notice you.”

Penny smiled believing Roger’s words she leaned forward and kissed him.

Her heart beat faster as they continued to kiss. She could feel the heat between them, and it seemed to intensify with each passing moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck, losing herself in the sensation of his lips on hers, his hands tangled in her hair. It was as if they were the only two people in the world, and nothing else mattered.

As their lips parted, she looked into his eyes, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something shift within him. His pupils were dilated, his skin flushed. It was as if she'd unleashed something primal inside him. She felt a thrill of power course through her veins, and she knew that she was the one who'd done it.

Penny’s eyes began to glow as she inhaled Roger’s breath. Penny didn’t notice as her body instinctively breathed in the air. They stopped kissing as Penny continued to suck the air from Roger’s lungs. Roger in a trance continued to exhale but in a moment he collapsed as Penny became aware of her surroundings.

She released Roger and gasped as she looked at him on the floor. However, before she could tend to him , she felt a burning sensation all over her body. It started as a tingle, but quickly grew into an all-consuming fire. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. Her limbs felt heavy, and her vision blurred. She could feel her skin begin to char and peel, revealing raw, bloody flesh beneath.

The pain was excruciating, and she thought that she was dying. But it was then the pain subsided as she felt her skin heal revealing tan unblemished skin. The transformation no longer felt painful as her body felt brand new in this new skin.

Her breasts felt fuller and heavier as they strained against the fabric of her shirt. She could feel them still growing as buttons popped off her shirt making room for her new bosom. She felt her hips widen, and her ass grow rounder. She glanced down at her hands, marveling at the softness of her new tan skin and the delicate length of her fingernails. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and she could swear it felt thicker and more lustrous.

She felt the pleasure within her grow as unable to fight the feeling her hips began to gyrate as if she was giving a lap dance to a lucky patron. Penny’s moans filled the home rousing Roger to consciousness. Her voice began to shift to a melodic tone. She picked up speed as her thighs got even thicker and her ass even juicier. She looked back in joy as she felt her tongue roll out of her mouth.

Her eyes shifted to Roger as he looked at her with awe. His eyes traced her body as if he was seeing her for the first time. Penny's heart fluttered as she saw the desire in his eyes. She wanted to please him, to make him feel the way she felt. She moved closer to him, her breasts brushing against his chest.

Her scent, a heady mix of jasmine and feminine musk, filled his nostrils, making it difficult for him to think straight. His hands reached up, cupping her breasts through her shirt, feeling their weight and fullness. She arched her back, pushing her chest further into his hands.

Her hips continued to move in a hypnotic circle, her ass cheeks slapping against his thighs as she ground herself against him. He could feel his arousal growing, straining against his pants. His gaze dropped lower, taking in the curve of her spine, the roundness of her ass, the softness of her skin.

Penny moaned, the sound vibrating against his chest as she arched her back even further. Her breasts spilled free from her shirt, their fullness pressing against his chest. He cupped them, feeling their weight in his hands, before running his thumbs over her nipples, eliciting a gasp from her.

Her movements grew more urgent, her hips undulating faster as she ground herself against him. Her skin glistened with sweat, her cheeks flushed. He could see the desire in her eyes, the need for him to touch her, to make her feel good.

He moved his hands to her hips, guiding her as she continued to grind against him. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each breath. He could feel his own control slipping, the need to be inside her growing stronger with each passing moment.

With a swift motion, he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and freed his aching erection. Penny moaned loudly, the sound filling the room as she took in the sight of him, hard and ready for her. He pulled her shirt off over her head, revealing her soft, tan skin. Her breasts, full and round, spilled free from her bra, her nipples hard and peaked.

She reached down, taking him in her hand, stroking him gently at first before wrapping her fingers around him and beginning to stroke faster, her movements in perfect rhythm with her hips. Roger gasped, feeling the pleasure coursing through him as he watched her touch him, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her breasts swayed with each breath, brushing against his chest as she moved closer, their nipples teasing him. Her hips gyrated, her ass cheeks slapping against his thighs, driving him wild with desire. He could feel the head of his cock brushing against her wetness, and with a groan, he pushed her back onto the bed, burying himself inside her in one powerful thrust.

She cried out, arching her back as he filled her completely. Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on as their hips met in a frenzied rhythm. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each breath as she looked up at him, their eyes locked in a passionate gaze.

Roger felt his control slipping further away with each thrust, each moan that escaped Penny's lips. He leaned forward, burying his face in her neck, inhaling her scent as he savored the feel of her body moving beneath him. His hips pumped harder, faster, driving deeper inside her with each stroke.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his back, urging him to go faster, harder. He obliged, feeling the pleasure building within him, the pressure growing in his groin. He could feel his release building, the urge to empty himself inside her overwhelming.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, their breaths mingling as they gasped for air. Roger's thrusts grew more frenzied, his hips slamming into her with unbridled passion. Penny arched her back off the bed, her eyes clenched shut as she felt the waves of pleasure wash over her.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on, begging for more. Her legs squeezed tight around his waist, her body tensing as she neared her own release. Roger could feel it building within her, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust. He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples between his lips, sucking hard as he continued to drive into her.

Their skin slapped together, their sweat mingling as they moved together in perfect rhythm. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each ragged intake of air. His own breaths grew labored, his hips thrusting harder, faster. He could feel the end approaching, the inevitable release building inside him.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body arching off the bed, her breasts flushed and peak. Her legs squeezed tight around him, her muscles tensing as she neared her own climax. With a moan that escaped deep from her throat, she came, her body tensing and shuddering beneath him.

Roger felt the tension in her release, the wave of pleasure that passed through her, and with a groan, he gave in to his own release, thrusting deep inside her one final time. His hips bucked, his body tensed, and he let out a hoarse cry as he emptied himself inside her.

Their bodies trembled together, their hearts racing, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. They collapsed in each other arms oblivious to their surroundings.

They were awakened by a returning Janet giggling with her new boy toy for the night.

"Penny! Roger! In the living room?”

Roger's eyes snapped open, and he realized they were still in the same position they had been in before their passionate interlude. Penny's head was resting on his chest, her hand lazily tracing circles on his stomach. He gently prodded her awake. "Umm... Penny?" he whispered.

She lifted her head and smiled drowsily at him. "Hmm?"

"Your mom is home!”

“Penny did you fuck in the living room?”

Penny giggled, nuzzling back into Roger's chest. "Not exactly, Mom. We were just..." She trailed off, blushing deeply. "Um, we were just talking."

Janet's voice grew louder as she walked down the hall, the sound of her footsteps drawing closer. Penny closed her eyes, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "Oh, God," she whispered. "She's going to kill us."

Roger chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. "I don't think she'll kill us," he said. "But she might be a little upset." He rolled off her, and pulled his pants and underwear.

Penny stood up now taller and curvaceous. Janet stopped in her tracks as she examined her daughter.

"Well, well, well. Look at you two. Did you have fun in here?" she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and disapproval.

“It’s about time you finally transformed Penny.”

[johnschneiderblog]

Embrace it!

Yep, I've been sauntering through The Void (embracethevo.id) - a shiny new website for Lord Huron fans who favor the deep dive.

It's fancier than a nickel-plated six-shooter.

So far Tubbs Tarbell has spun an entertaining yarn about how he discovered the Bubs, then invited fans to tell their LH origin stories, which also makes for lively reading. The art that accompanies many of these stories is particularly impressive.

You can believe the World Enders are on it like jingle-jangle on spurs.