#Vicki Hall Peek

[sanguineterrain]

about a boy - e.m.

Summary: You've never had a boy in your bed. You're not sure what you're meant to do with one.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings/tags: none i don't think? mainly fluff and an overthinking reader (they're so me)

divider by firefly-graphics

There's a boy in your bed.

"M&M?"

You turn your head. Eddie holds the bag of candies to you.

"Okay," you say, and take a blue M&M.

Eddie smiles, about fifteen M&Ms in his own mouth. His attention returns to the screen. You have no idea what's playing.

A boy is in your bed, and he's put a movie on, and now his thigh is pressed against yours, lean and warm.

Eddie's socks are green and have tiny yellow stars on them. He's pulled them over his jean cuffs to keep the cold away. Not that it matters when he has a sleeveless Metallica shirt on.

But Eddie doesn't seem to get cold, anyway. You went for ice cream last week even though it had snowed the night before.

Eddie had paid for your ice cream, which isn't something to look too into. Steve's paid for your ice cream before, because Steve's a nice guy. And Eddie's a nice guy too. So maybe nice people pay for ice cream. And that's all.

Your eyes trace the dip of Eddie's belly, the slice of skin that peeks out between his waistband and shirt hem. His exposed arm and neck is sprinkled with freckles and you can see the edge of the demon tattoo on his breastbone.

Your heart races. That's wrong, isn't it? Looking at Eddie like that? Hoping he'll give you more?

You don't know. You've never had a boy in your bed. There's no guidebook.

Eddie laughs at the screen. You relish in his swelled cheeks and glimpse of fanged canines. You love Eddie's smile; bright and all-encompassing. You can't help but be pulled into his orbit every time you're around him.

You ought to give Robin something for introducing the two of you. A fruit basket, or maybe Vickie Summers in a gift box.

Need curls deep in your chest as you watch Eddie sink further into your pillows. You wonder if he can feel your eyes on him. That would be embarrassing. But maybe he'd be flattered that you're looking at him; that you can't help but.

He's touchy. Affectionate. You're really not, but Eddie takes it in stride. He gives you little half-hugs instead of his usual squeeze-the-soul-out-of-you ones. He bumps your shoulder or simply walks beside you, respecting your space.

And funnily enough, through all that, you've begun to wish Eddie would touch you more.

"'M gonna get more popcorn," he says. "Y'want something else?"

You turn your head in a vain attempt to make it seem like you haven't been mooning over him like a lovesick calf.

"No, no, um, thanks. Thanks."

You cringe at your clumsy mouth. Eddie's oblivious, hopping off the bed and disappearing into the hall.

Are you even allowed to want more? You and Eddie are friends. Maybe even Good Friends, especially after the 'murderous monster tries to swallow Hawkins' crisis died down.

But you don't hang out like this. Where Eddie can see all the Polaroid pictures of trees you thought were good reasons to love the earth and of your mom and of the deer you saw once, and your sky blue wallpaper with clouds painted on it. You wonder if he thinks you're childish or silly.

Why does he even spend time with you? Are you the only one free? Was today a non-Hellfire day and that's why Eddie had agreed to come over? Nothing better to do?

You haven't the slightest idea what's happening in the movie. You should pay attention because Eddie might want to talk about it afterwards, and he'll be cross if you don't know what he's talking about.

Except, that doesn't really seem like Eddie. Still. You've never had a boy in your bed. You don't know if they expect you to pay attention to the movies they play.

You chew on a cuticle. Eddie returns in a couple minutes, climbing onto the bed with his knees. He offers you the bowl of popcorn. You shake your head.

"Everything okay, sweet thing?" he asks.

Oh, don't you just melt over that. You feel like the yellow M&M between Eddie's fingers.

"Yeah, f-fine."

You stare at the foot of space between you. Once, you'd dared to lean on the shoulder of a boy you didn't like that much. Your head hadn't stayed long on his shoulder, and afterwards, you wished you'd been struck by lightning.

What if this is like that? What if Eddie sneers at you and shuffles away. God, you can't handle that. You like this boy in your bed so much, it frightens you.

"This guy, the one in the raincoat." Eddie points. "He's one of my favorite actors. I like the way he talks. You ever get that? Liking the way someone talks?"

You look at him. Eddie looks at you. He's trying to pull you out of your head. He thinks something's worrying you. You're so anxious all the time. And Eddie knows that, so he tries to ground you. You withdraw and Eddie will call out to you and ask you questions. He always sounds lovely. Sometimes, you try to gather the courage to ask him something back. But the words remain lodged in your throat.

"Yeah, I get that." Be brave, be brave. "I like the way you talk."

You wait for lightning to strike.

"Really?" Eddie asks, sounding genuinely curious.

"Uh-huh. You have a nice voice."

Nothing. Not even a rumble of thunder.

"Sweet thing, you're gonna give me a big head," Eddie says with a grin.

He's not teasing you. Once upon a time, you might've thought he was, because it seemed like that's all people were capable of. But Eddie's not. He thinks they're nice, the words you say. You want to say more nice words. You want to keep this boy in your bed.

You also want to close this distance. Be a permanent planet in Eddie's orbit. Be brave.

You stare at that tiny foot of space between you again. You're probably being too quiet and still, and Eddie's probably worried you're stuck in your head again.

So before he can coax you out again, (because he cares about you. He cares about you, and you're just going to have to get used to that, alright?) you scoot an inch.

And another inch. And another.

You move at a glacial pace. You don't think Eddie's picked up on your little scheme. How fiendish you are, attempting to cuddle with the boy in your bed. Wicked!

Now, you're so close you can feel Eddie's body heat. His shirt looks soft and worn. You wonder what he smells like.

You move closer. Now, your chest is touching Eddie's side. He looks at you.

His eyes are dark like the blackest parts of space. If you do this and fail, those eyes might just swallow you up.

You listen for thunder, but the skies are clear.

"What's goin' on, pretty?" he murmurs.

"Do you like me?" you blurt, helpless in his pull.

Eddie's brows lift. He blinks, cocks his head.

"'Course I do, sweet thing."

"No, like." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, then open them. "You like me enough for a movie, but do you like me enough to let me put my head on your shoulder?"

"Is that all?" he asks, eyes dancing. There's stars in them. "I like you so much, I want your head on my shoulder forever."

Cinnamon. Eddie smells like cinnamon.

You no longer wish to be struck by lightning.

"Oh," you breathe.

Eddie hums and gently taps your head with one finger.

"That what you've been thinking so hard about?" he asks.

"I've never had a boy in my bed," you say.

"'M honored to be the first."

You nod, jittery with hope. "I'm glad it's you."

And then Eddie eases you into his side. It's perfect. It feels like you're young and don't know any better. It feels like you'll never find anything else like it.

Eddie bows his head. His curls tickle your cheeks and shroud you from the rest of the world.

"And will you kiss me too?" you ask.

"As much as you want, pretty."

You think you can get used to having a boy in your bed.

[captainlockwoof]

The first thing that he felt when he woke up was confused. He remembered being there with Vicki, holding her hand, and then nothing. Nothing but darkness and cold and the feeling like nothing would ever be okay again. And then, just as suddenly, his eyes were opening and the light was far too bright. He groaned as he woke, hands pressed hard into his eyes to try to quell the pounding headache behind them. “What the fuck?” he grumbled, shaking his head to try to bring himself back to reality. Tyler forced himself out of bed, padding slowly to the door of the room he shared with Jeremy and peeking out into the hall. “Hello? Is anybody here?” 

@sanguishqsstarters​

[wutbju]

Remember Vicki Peek's advice about how to dress "modestly" to the BJU women students in 2018?

[yorluver]

may i have this dance?

2.7k words

chapter index // masterlist // navigation

synopsis: as the next in line for the throne, all you need is a qualified spouse. your father, the king, holds a masquerade, per your request, in search of the fellow to take your hand in marriage; however, your father doesn’t know your qualifications heavily rely on the laws of attraction and affection.

robin buckley x princess!reader (fem reader)

royal!stranger things au : in which all depicted characters are associated to royalty...

a/n : reading chapter one is highly recommended!! i'll work on reqs now:: this was challenging to finish tbh</3

“So, my lady, are you excited for tonight?” The driver peeked up at you through the mirror.

“Mm,” you hummed, thinking, “I’m… not sure.

"I mean, yes I’m about to shoot through the roof right now thinking about tonight. But, what if they don’t like me after they find out I’m the princess? Or I don’t even find anyone!”

He chuckled, “Don’t worry too much, I’m sure you’ll find the one. It took me forty-two years to find the one, yet I’ve never been happier. Take your time, princess.”

You smiled at him, your mind retreating to the scenarios you’ve been floating off to for the entirety of your girlhood.

One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three.

You could almost hear the clinking of your heels on the tile of the ballroom. Your body rhythmically swaying like the slender leaves of the willow tree you’ve spent countless summer days under rustling in the brisk spring afternoons. A muffled orchestra coupled with your breathing as you revolved around the ballroom. The music crescendoing you deeper into your dreams. The perfect waltz. A dance you’ve rehearsed countless times. Yet one problem remained; who’d fulfill the role of accompanying you?

The image of your home grounded you back on Earth. Carriages upon carriages strung through the pavement stretching to the main doors of the castle. Many luggaged with an assortment of roses, the scent seeping into your car. The rose aroma filled your lungs as you inched closer and closer and closer to the castle. There was little time for fantasizing about your ball anymore. Your ball is right now.

“Welcome, your maj–…this way please,”

You stifle a chuckle from the miniscule slip up, and smiled back at the guard. You playfully pressed a finger to your lips.

Your hands lowered to your skirt. You gripped the draping, silk fabric up from your legs as you exited the carriage. The grand entrance swallowed you in, and your heart fluttered with every passerby's footstep. You’ve walked through these halls every single day, yet your nerves had your legs stuck tight to the cobblestone pavement.

“Is everything alright?” A masked voice sneaks up behind you, peering from over your shoulder.

Shivers are sent down your spine, you can feel the hairs on your neck prickle up. Their voice felt like a breath of fresh air upon your skin. Cool and revitalizing. You turned to the figure, their gaze locking with yours. The majority of their features are masked, but the slight upturn of their rosy lips are left exposed.

Their hair was sleekly tied back, a few loose blonde strands framing their black mask, bejeweled with bold, blue gems. A black tuxedo hugged their figure. Contrasting their dark attire, their shimmering, blue eyes speak volumes to you; complimenting the sapphire gems running through their mask. Though three words had left their lips, the connection between your eyes spoke a million more.

“Oh! Um, pardon?” you squeaked. You averted their gaze, adjusting the tightness of your mask. Perhaps Vickie had tied it a bit too tight. Perhaps all the blood rushing to your head made you a bit more scatterbrained than usual.

“You were just… frozen, for a lack of better words.”

“Oh, right.”

Your mind began racing, your heart alike; had you been standing there for long? Did you look presentable? All these questions raced through your mind as you shared an awkward giggle between each other.

“Um, shall we?” You gestured to the main hall, looking back up at them.

“Of course, my lady,” they replied, their arm blooming away from their body, out to you.

Hesitantly, your hand connected with theirs. Only thin fabric separated your skin from theirs. A smile creeped on your lips. The night had only begun, yet it seemed like you'd already found a more than suitable candidate.

The recapitulation of a piece hummed in between the two of you. No words were spoken until you had made it to the grand staircase. As you were about to make your entrance down the steps, you tugged on the anonymous figure’s arm. They turned to you, pausing on the first step.

“I haven’t gotten your name,” you spoke quietly, as if the two of you were sharing a secret.

They leaned toward you, tilting their head just past your cheek.

“That’d ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

Their words harmonized with the chords ringing through your ears. The way their breath fanned against your skin, the way they smiled as they pulled away, and the way they were able to get your jitters all ‘jittery’ with a single question sent you off your feet.

“At least let me call you something,” you pleaded. “I need to be able to call out to you somehow, right?”

Though their composure was certainly strong, the evidence of their coolness wavering was compelling.

Their eyes darted away, their whole body turning momentarily. A hand flying to their face in an attempt to hide their reddening cheeks; although their cheeks were completely concealed by their mask.

After clearing their throat, they turned back to you, “R…Romeo? How about that?

“I mean, I won’t go on and, um, die, and I hope you don’t either, but I can be your Romeo tonight!” Their smile warms your heart once again, it was as if they were the main entrance of the castle: the hall that swallowed you up, leaving you motionless.

“Shall we get going, Juliet?” Their question broke you out of your trance, almost parallel to your introduction to each other. Only this time, your relationship with your mystery Romeo had shown you a promising conclusion to your childhood dreams.

A soft giggle left your lips as you joined Romeo on the steps. With each step, your heart fluttered. Your eyes were glued to the floor; the idea of tripping in front of your Romeo haunting you.

All the years of ballroom etiquette was forgotten when you became determined to win over your Romeo. Your focus on successfully making it down the staircase interfered with the pace they had already begun. Your arm stretched out, their hand still intertwined with yours. Their patience with you was almost relieving; each step carefully planned like a waltz. However, you failed to notice their gaze on you, how their gaze watched you with great caution. Romeo's demeanor appeared harsh, but their intention was full of affection.

By the time you made it down to the ballroom floor, all that was left of your composure was the adrenaline of the night. You fretted about your hands; were they sweaty? Could they notice it through your gloves? Were you gripping their hand too tight?

Your anguish was painted clearly on your face. Your eyes darted across the room, watching dancers float across the floor. Many envisioned your ideal night of choosing your partner:

The atmosphere reeked with adoration. Arms cradling your waist, yours draped over their shoulders. Your eyes locked, peering into each other’s passion, learning about the other with every step and every twirl.

You turned to Romeo, who was intently scanning the other attendees as well.

“Would you like to dance?” you proposed. Their head whipped toward you, their eyebrows peeking out from their mask.

You giggled, “I hear the next song is especially lucky for lovers,”

“Oh, really?” They replied, giving you a cheeky smile. “Then, may I have this dance?”

You swear your heart skipped a beat. Your body felt hot. Your heart soaring though you stood stock-still. Your mouth gaped ever-so-slightly at the prompt, eyes wide.

“Oh my goodness,” you murmured, hiding your face from Romeo. “Oh my goodness.”

Your eyes returned to the ballroom floor, the crowd dispersing, you were so close to achieving the dream of waltzing with someone you adore. Within the next song, you could decide if this felt right. This, the connection. This, their affection. This, your judgment.

Your gaze returned to your laced hands as the orchestra prepared for the next song.

Panic scattered across their face, their cheeky response morphing into embarrassment.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I mean, I would really like it if you would dance with me, but you don’t have to. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything… is it me? Does me being a woman, umm, not appeal to you? I’m sorry, I should’ve told you! I…”

Your eyes peeked out from your hands, “You’re a lady?”

Romeo’s cheeks burned again, their eyes closing, “I… I’m sorry, it seems I, um, overstepped.”

Just as Romeo was about to turn away, your hands found its way back to the hem of her sleeve once again.

“I really don’t mind,” you whispered, looking around. “Come with me, I have to be completely honest with you too.”

***

You weaved through the mass of people, bodies bumping into you constantly. The only connector between you and Romeo holding on by your sheer strength of a pinch. Men and women towered over you, blocking your sight from maneuvering through the crowd.

Suddenly, you stumble, breaking through the final ring of people. You found yourself on the main floor. The floor where you had seen elegant bodies circling along to the rhythm of the music not too long before. All eyes turn to you, whispers slung across the crowd. You notice the absence of Romeo, whipping back to where you had burst through.

“Romeo?” you call out, observing each masked face for your Romeo, the image of her sapphire bejeweled mask still fresh in your mind. You felt frozen again, the feeling of unwanted attention felt humiliating. You wanted to run, to get out of this place, to find her. But, the crowd’s eyes held you in place.

It was as if time froze with you. Only the whispers pushed each tick of the seconds. You could feel tears welling in your eyes; the mask was already hindering your sight. The crowd became blurred, drowning in your tears. Your lips stung from the constant pressure of anxiety. Your eyes stung with the belief that your special night was rapidly fading away, that you failed to find ‘the one’ – rather, you weren’t able to keep her.

Rather abruptly, the orchestra blasted a melody. You had believed you were just daydreaming once more. That in desperation to leave, you must’ve drifted away while you sulked. You had believed you were dreaming until someone swept you away, breezing past the people bordering the ballroom floor. You felt your tears dry up from the dance, though you needed no question to know who had made your dreams reality.

It was not the sapphire gems that adorned her mask. It was not the rosy lips that made your heart skip a beat each time it curled up just perfectly.

It was the passion behind her eyes. A cloudless sky that you’ve laid under, letting time pass by. An ocean that roared with indescribable patience. An iris that spoke to you when barely any words had left your lips. It was her eyes that reassured you that your qualifications were just what you were looking for.

“I..” you gasped. You barely knew what was going on. Your feet hurried with theirs, slowly finding rhythm with the music.

One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three.

“Do you know how hard it is to get past these men?” Romeo laughed, twirling you around, past confused faces.

You shared a smile, the feeling of humiliation felt away. Lost in time.

Though her skin did not know yours, you still shivered under her grasp.

One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three.

Your mind traces back to your daydream, actively living it in the moment. Your heart rate majorly contrasted the tempo of your waltz. The floor was yours. Only the two of you danced the night away while attendees stood still, basking in the passion of the two of you.

One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three.

“May I take you away from here, Juliet?” Her voice snuck into your ears, silencing the music.

One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three.

You stared at her in awe. Your dance did not stop; although, her body begged to drag you away from the circle.

One. Two. Three.

“Yes.”

***

Within a moment, she had you chasing after her through the crowd, heading towards the first door in sight. Gasps trailed the two of you, the stares surely burning holes into the fabric of your dress.

Those grand wooden doors, excellently carved with various animals, creaked loudly against the continuing harmony of the orchestra. The two of you slipped between the slightest slit in the door, leaving the confused crowd behind you.

“God, that must’ve been the most nerve wracking thing I’ve done,” You caught your breath, pressing up against a wall.

Her laugh echoed through the hall, “Do you know where we are?”

She took a spot next to you, peering at you.

You merely looked at her for a second, the silence deafening.

“I think it’s time I come clean as well,” you spoke, untying the ribbon that upheld your mask.

Her mouth gaped as she caught wind of what you confessed, slowly comprehending your features. Your nose, your lips, your eyes; she studied every last subject.

“You’re the princess,”

You hummed in response, your focus stuck on the tile you stood upon.

“So, what does that mean for us?”

Her question immediately broke your concentration, your eyebrows knitting together, finally locking eyes with her.

“I want us,” you started, “to be together. I want you to be my lover… Romeo? Should I still call you that?”

Her smile could barely be contained behind her lips. Her head bowed down the slightest bit as her hands traveled up to work at the blue ribbon. Her mask drooped, exposing her freckled cheeks which had remained red and hot. Piecing together all her features, stunning you again and again.

“Robin,” She finally pulled the mask away from her face, “that’s my name.”

“Robin,” Her name rolled off your tongue like milk and honey. To Robin, it was like you had spoken a spell, entrancing her under your love.

“Robin,” you repeated, “do you mind accompanying me outside?”

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

***

Your footsteps echoed through the halls as you led Robin towards a place you’ve spent your childhood, your teenagehood, and soon your womanhood. A place where your psyche could heal, relax. A place endeared to your memories.

You pushed through a door, the smell of earth crashing upon you. Scents of dew, leftover from the morning, grass, and moist forest. The visibility was low, the cloudy night sky barely illuminating the land around you two.

Robin draped her jacket upon your shoulders, her expression reminiscent of your first encounter.

“We’re almost there,” you smiled, “I should know where to go by memory, but I wanna be sure I can get you there.”

“No worries, princess,” she reassured you, taking the first step onto the grass, holding her hand out to you.

You gladly took her hand. However, you took the lead not too long after that.

The area was not too far from the exit, but did require a small hike. The two of you certainly got to know each other before reaching your destination.

A willow tree stood tall before the two of you. You smiled as you watched Robin’s reaction, it reminded you of moments before, the moment she realized who you are. Perhaps, she wondered what she was to you. But, the presence of awe was certainly present.

“She’s beautiful,” Robin shook her head, walking up to the trunk. “I’m glad I got to accompany you here.”

“Me too,” you agreed, following her up to the tree. “I really like you, Robin.”

“Me too, princess.

“But, how will we work out? I mean, will we be allowed to be together?”

“Of course! Robin, I would amend the constitutions for you, I would renounce my throne for you.”

She immediately shook her head, “No, don’t do that. I mean, I think I’d rather see you prosper, princess, I can’t have you giving up your life on me.”

You pulled your gloves off, repeating the action with Robin’s. Taking her hands in yours, you nodded, looking up at her.

“Fine then, amending it is.”

***

The night was spent with laughter and storytelling. Carving a new memory in the willow tree. A memory that would open a whole new life with your lover.

[fellowshipofthenerds]

Eddie's Battle Vest

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summery: You’re at a party and some asshole spills a drink on you. You can’t find a ride home so you walk the two miles to your best friend Eddie’s house to get cleaned up. You take a shower and forgot to grab a shirt so you peek out and find Eddie’s battle vest slung over a chair. The sight of you in nothing but a spare pair of his boxers and his vest drives Eddie up the wall.

Warnings: A little bit of fluff but mostly smutty smut smut. 18+

Authors Note: First time writing fanfic in a really really long time and first time writing smut in general so please be kind!

Word Count: 3.9k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey asshole, watch where you’re going!” You yell in annoyance as some drunken idiot stumbles into you, spilling their sticky beer all down your front. You were soaked, you could literally feel the beer oozing down into your shoes.

Grumbling, you aggressively grab a paper towel and try to clean up some of the damage. You didn’t even want to be at this stupid party in the first place but Steve and Robin had insisted on dragging you along:

“It’ll be good for you Y/N to hangout with somebody other than The Freak.” Steve had said.

“One, don’t call him that. Two, I hang out with your dumb ass all the time too.” You and Eddie had been best friends since you transferred to Hawkins Middle School in the 8th grade, 7 whole years ago, and you were very protective of him, on more than one occasion you had gotten into a fist fight with someone calling him a freak. You wish you could say that, like Eddie’s feelings for you, your’s for him were strictly platonic, but that wasn’t the case. They had been, up until about halfway through Sophmore year, then the fact that Eddie was incredibly attractive hit you like a dump truck and you’ve been secretly pining over him ever since.

“yeah Y/N, come on! We’ll have so much fun! Steve and I will be there the whole time!” Robin added, already dragging you out of the house and towards Steve’s waiting car.

That had been three hours ago, and where were those assholes now? Well, Robin had disappeared to stalk talk to, Vicky; and Steve was getting cozy on the couch with some blonde. You debate for a good five minutes whether you were going to go over there and ruin his night by asking him to drive you home. In the end you decided against it. even though you were annoyed, Steve was still your friend and he has been really struggling since his breakup with Nancy so he could really use the night of fun.

You decide to just hoof it the two miles to Eddie’s trailer park and get his help. He’s probably going to be too stoned to drive you home but at least you’ll be able to get cleaned up.

When you have a puddle of beer in your shoes, two miles feels like an eternity to walk. Especially at 9pm. Finally you round the corner and see the trailer park in the distance. You make your way through the trailers until you reach Eddie’s. You can hear the low sound of Iron Maiden’s ‘The Number of the Beast’ coming from Eddie’s stereo. You walk right past his van and in through the front door. You’ve been friends so long that neither of you ever even bothered to knock anymore.

“Hey Eddie! I’m out here, you better not be naked!” You yell as you walk down the hall and barge into his bedroom.

“How was your par- What the hell happened to you?” Eddie was sitting on the edge of his bed, strumming his guitar when he looked up at you and spotted your appearance.

“Some drunk dick spilled his drink on me, I’m here to try to get cleaned up.” You respond angrily. You didn’t wait for his response before you went and grabbed a pair of clean boxers from his drawer and then began to make your way to the bathroom to shower.

“Oh sure, Y/N, just help yourself.” he rolled his eyes in fake annoyance before he went back to strumming his guitar. He had a small smirk on his lips as he watched you go. He’d never tell you but it always gave him a small thrill that you felt comfortable enough to go through his things and wear his clothes. He loved seeing you in his stuff, it made him feel like you were his, even though he knew you would never think of him that way.

After about ten minutes in the shower you had finally managed to get rid of the stickiness and most of the smell of beer. You were about to turn off the water and hop out when you heard Eddie call through the door.

“Hey Y/N, I’m going to make something to eat. Want anything?”

“Yes! Feed me!!” You call back quickly. And as you turn the water off and step out of the shower you hear his footsteps retreating towards the kitchen. You dry yourself off with a towel from the cabinet and pull on Eddie’s boxers. You go to pull on your shirt but realize that it is more covered in sticky beer than you had realized. You think quickly and decide that since Eddie is in the kitchen you’ll just grab something out of his room really quick.

You hold the towel to the front of you and sneak across the hall to his room. You look around the room and notice you have a problem, there is nothing hanging in Eddie’s closet, his close are strewn all over the room and you have no idea how to tell what’s clean and what’s not. Thinking quickly you grab his battle vest from the back of a chair and pull it on, making sure to hug it against you so nothing compromising could be seen. You then make your way back to the bathroom, pick up your discarded clothes and throw them in Eddie’s washer and start it.

You take a steadying breath before you leave the bathroom and go meet Eddie in the kitchen. Doing your best to keep the vest closed around you as you went. You buttoned the top button on the vest but it was so large on you that it didn’t really help to keep you covered but it was better than nothing.

“I just made sandwiches, I hope that’s coo-” Eddie stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you standing in the kitchen. The breath had been knocked from him, he was not expecting to turn around and see you standing there in nothing but his boxers and his battle vest. His pants started to feel uncomfortably tight as he forced himself to let out a breath.

“Hey sorry, my shirt needed to be washed and I just grabbed the first remotely clean thing I found in your room.” You shuffle your feet a little self consciously. He loved this vest so you weren’t sure how he was going to feel about you wearing it.

“Oh, its a- it’s totally cool.” He stuttered, trying to focus on breathing and not thinking about the fact that his vest is rubbing all over your naked body.

“Okay awesome. Thank you.” You shyly say, biting your lip nervously. He nodded and then motioned with the plates in his hand back towards his room. You get the hint and turn and walk back the way you had came, Eddie following just behind you. His eyes never leaving you, his heart pounding in his chest.

‘Get it together, Munson.’ he thought angrily to himself, ‘She’s your best friend, you can’t think of her like that.’ If he hadn’t been in love with you since freshman year it might have been easier for him to ignore just how hot you looked. Their friendship had always just felt right, he had never felt nervous around you before. In his world of people calling him a freak and giving him a hard time about not graduating and his love of DnD, you were his peace. But right now, his hands were sweating and he was terrified you would guess why and not want anything to do with him again.

You plopped down on his bed and took the plate that he offered you, you left plenty of space beside you for him to sit next to you but he opted for the chair by his desk. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself enough to be that close to you without doing something he might regret. You noticed his deliberate choice of seating and eyed him curiously as you ate the ham sandwich he had made you.

“Is everything okay, Eddie?” You ask after you had finished your sandwich. The two of you had eaten in silence which was new, when you were together usually one of you wouldn’t shut up.

“What? Yeah everything is fine Y/N.” He answered and for the first time you noticed that he was having to actively keep his eyes on your face, they kept wanting to drift downwards.

“Are you upset that I’m wearing your vest? Cause you could find me something else and I’ll change if you wan-”

“No!” He answered a little to quickly before taking a deep breath and calmly saying, “No it’s fine, I don’t mind you wearing the vest.”

You study him for a moment, really study him. And then your confusion turns to realization when it finally dawns on you that he was trying not to look at you and he was deliberately hiding his lap from you.

‘He’s turned on’ you think to yourself with a satisfied smirk. You decide to test your theory. You take your plate and turn just so to put it over on his bedside table. In doing so Eddie was able to get a good view of side boob through the too-big arm holes in the vest. You heard him take a deep inhale at the sight and the gears in your brain start to turn.

“Eddie.” You begin slowly, taking a deep breath to gather your courage.

“Yes, Y/N?” He looked at you warily, clearly noting the nerves in your voice. He wondered for a brief second if he had been caught in his dirty thoughts.

“I’m going to do something, and if at any point you want me to stop. I want you to tell me, and we will forget it ever happened.”

“Okay?” The confusion evident in his voice as he looked at you.

You took another deep breath and then stood up, walking over to him slowly. His eyes never leaving you. You stop in front of him for a second before you move forward and straddle his lap. You can feel his hard on through his jeans clearly now. He takes a shuddering breath and rests his hands on the sides of your hips.

“Is this okay?” You ask, barely above a whisper. Your faces were mere inches apart and he was dying to close the distance. He quickly nods his head. You reach down and grab his hands with yours, and you slowly drag them up the inside of the vest, up the sides of your body until his hands are resting just under your breasts. He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your body under his hands before he quickly pulls his hands away, leaving you feeling a little rejected.

“Wait Y/N,” He takes a quick breath before continuing, “I want this, god do I want this. But I have real feelings for you and I don’t think I’d be able to have an amazing night with you and then just go back to how our friendship was, like it never happened.”

Your mind just kept playing ‘I have real feelings for you’ over and over in your head. You smile so wide it feels like your face is about to split in two and before either of you can say anything else you are crashing your lips against his. They are softer than you had imagined they would be. He didn’t have time to get over his shock before you were pulling away.

“I’ve been in love with you for years, dumbass.” You state frankly, as if it should have been obvious.

“Really?” He asks in complete and utter disbelief. You nod and his lips are quickly attached to yours again. This time, his hands slide up the vest of their own accord, his fingers finding your hard nipples and giving them a squeeze. You moan against his lips.

He removes his hands from the vest again, only to unbutton the top button that had been keeping it closed. Then his hands are on you again and his mouth is pressing kisses down your neck. You brace your hands on his shoulders and move your head so that he had clearer access to the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks on the spot just below your ear and you just know you’ll have a mark there tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow you’s problem, right now you were too busy enjoying the feeling of Eddie’s lips on your skin. Eddie’s hand were moving lower and lower until they found the waistband the boxers you were wearing. Eddie brought his lips up to ghost against yours.

“Is it okay if I…” he plays with the waistband of your boxers.

“Oh god, please do.” Your hips buck as his hand slides down the front of the boxers and his thumb finds your clit. He runs his thumb down over your slit before going back to your clit. He lets out a groan.

“You are so wet for me already.” his thumb begins to circle your clit, your hips rocking, rubbing against his clothed cock. His lips go back to working against your neck while his other hand holds your hips still. Otherwise your rubbing against him was going to cause him to cum before you even got to the good part. He moved his fingers quickly against your clit, hitting just the right pace that you were quickly about to fall over the edge. He surprises you by slowly inserting his index finger into your slick folds, joined shortly by his middle finger. The feeling of his fingers inside you and his thumb working your clit was almost overwhelming. You could feel yourself getting close.

“Eddie, I’m gonna cum.” you manage to get out breathlessly.

“Good girl, sweetheart. Cum for me Y/N.” He whispers seductively into your ear, trailing kisses up your jaw. Your climax hit you quickly. Your back arches, your hands grip Eddie tightly as your walls clench around his fingers. Both of you sat there breathing heavily, you still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. His forehead rested against your shoulder for a minute before he sat up and looked at you, moving his hands to circle around your waist. You can still feel how hard he is underneath you.

“Hi.” He said shyly, biting his lip.

“Hi.” You reply just as shyly, eyes shining and a small smile on your lips.

“So that happened.” He stated, his hands were behind you so you couldn’t see them but you could feel them against your back and how he was nervously fiddling with his rings.

You giggle, “Yes it did.”

“Did you mean it? When you said that you loved me?” He was nervous, a little part of him bracing for potential rejection. He had never been the luckiest guy and you having the same feelings as him almost felt too good to be true.

“Edward,” he rolled his eyes at the use of his full name, “I am absolutely, sickeningly, in love with you.”

Suddenly, he moved his hands around to the back of your thighs and stood up carrying you over to the bed. He dropped you down with a giggle and crawled up to hover over you.

“You’re beautiful. And I am sickeningly in love with you too.” He kissed your lips gently, then he began to kiss down your neck. Then he moves down to your chest, pausing to open the vest further, and pulls your nipple into his mouth. You moan, hands in his hair, as he licks and sucks on the hard nub. He stays there for a minute before kissing over to the other side to give your other nipple the same attention. Once satisfied he kisses down your stomach, lower and lower, until he reaches the waistband of the boxers. Then he stops and looks up at you with a smirk, his fingers playing with the top of the boxers.

“Eddie, don’t be a tease.” You whine which causes his smirk to grow wider. Instead of replying he moves down lower, placing a kiss on your ankle. He then begins to kiss his way up the inside of your leg, agonizingly slow. He kisses up to the top of your inner thigh before moving to the bottom of the other leg and working his way up again.

“Eddie. Please.” You didn’t even care how whiny you sounded, you just needed his mouth on your aching core.

“Please what, Sweetheart?” He smirked, he knew what he was doing to you and he was loving every second of it. Well two could play that game.

In the most seductive voice you could muster you reply, “Please, Dungeon Master, I want you to fuck me with your tongue.”

The noise that Eddie let out when you called him Dungeon Master was equal parts hilarious and sexy, his dick twitched straining even harder against his pants. He didn’t need to be told twice. He made quick work of ridding you of the boxers and in a dizzying second he had put your legs over his shoulders and his mouth was on you. Your back arched and Eddie had to use his hands to keep your legs open so you wouldn’t squish his head. His tongue flicked quickly against your clit before diving into your folds. He went back and forth between your slit and your clit, making sure he was giving plenty of attention to both. While his tongue was on your clit he inserted his index finger and curled it forward in a ‘come here’ motion, hitting your g-spot perfectly. Still sensitive from your earlier orgasm on Eddie’s lap, this second orgasm hit you quickly. Your vision went bright, your back arched, your legs clenched and Eddie slowed down, letting you ride out your high. He looked up at you with a grin.

“Now that is a sight that I want to see every day for the rest of my life.” He wiped the excess juices off his face and then climbed up to kiss you tenderly.

You pulled his face to yours in a long kiss, then your hand slid down to the bottom of his shirt and started to tug it up. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He stood up from beside you and pulled his shirt over his head, he then quickly rid himself of his pants and his boxers and he stood there in all his naked glory. You sat there staring in awe, you’d seen him without a shirt before and you’d fantasized about this moment but nothing came close to the real thing. You stand up quickly and pull him into a quick kiss before you pull away and begin to remove Eddie’s vest, the only piece of clothing you still had on.

“Wait. Leave it.” Eddie stops you, looking at you with lust blown eyes.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He smirked and pulled you in for another deep kiss. Deciding to take charge you push him down onto the bed and climb on top of him. You sit there, your bare core barely brushing against his hard on as you look into his eyes.

“Y/N,” he whines, “I’m so hard. If you don’t do something I think I’m going to explode.”

He’s not the only one who didn’t need to be told twice. You lock your lips to his and as you share a heated kiss you slowly lower yourself onto his hard cock.

“So tight.” He groaned against your mouth. You gave yourself a moment to adjust to his size. For someone so scrawny he was packing quite the package. You start off slowly rocking your hips, lips pressed together and both hands intertwined. You started to pick up the pace and his hands left yours to go to your hips. He was squeezing them so hard you knew there would be marks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You sat up and arched your back, bouncing up and down on his dick as his hips thrust up to meet yours.

He swore then and there that if he lived another hundred years there would never be a sight more beautiful than you riding him wearing nothing but his battle vest. He sat up quickly to lock your lips together before he grabbed you by the waist and flipped you underneath him. You let out a surprised giggle that was replaced by a moan as he began to pound into you quickly, bringing one hand in between you to rub you clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening for the third time that evening.

“Harder Eddie!” You moan loudly. His hand leaves your clit and grabs your hand and bring it down there, you begin to rub your clit as he uses his hand to brace against the wall above you so that he can pound harder and faster. Your free hand snakes it way into his hair as your legs wrap around his waist to take him in deeper and almost without warning the coil snaps and your third orgasm overtakes you. Your walls clamp around his hard cock and it ends up being too much and sends him over the edge right along with you. He slows down, pumping lazily, riding out his orgasm. When he’s finished he collapses on top of you.

Once he manages to catch his breath he rolls over off of you and pulls you to his chest. You snuggle into him, exhaustion beginning to catch up with you. He grabs his blanket and throws it over the two of you. You both lay there in silence for awhile, his fingers trailing a path up and down your arms.

“So…” Eddie says after a few minutes. “Did we just completely ruin our friendship?”

You sat up and looked him in the eyes before answering sarcastically, “Oh totally, there’s no going back from this.” You flash him a bright smile.

“Well oh no, whatever shall we do to move forward from this?” He replied just as sarcastically, smirking down at you.

“Well, clearly there is only one thing left to do to salvage everything. I have to start telling everyone you’re my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend huh?” He jokingly looks thoughtful for a minute, “I guess I’m okay with that.”

“Good, cause you’re stuck with me, Munson.” You yawn, laying back down onto his chest.

You can feel the smile in his voice as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and quietly says, “Good, there’s no one I’d rather be stuck with, Y/L/N.”

[47-shades-of-hitman]

Seven days of Valentine with Agent 47 | Day 7 | SFW

Day 7 - The joys of parenthood | SFW

Babies don’t care that it’s Valentine’s Day...

Warnings: None

Link to my Hitman-related Discord server

Your heart swelled with pride as you stood on the threshold of Victoria’s room, fondly smiling at the scene unfolding in front of you.

Agent 47 finished up changing your young daughter’s diaper, tickling her nose and belly in the process. Victoria smiled widely, wiggling around, keening in joy as her father leaned down and kissed her forehead and her chubby cheeks, murmuring some sweet words to her.

Biting your bottom lip, you pondered if you had ever felt as happy as right now, on this very moment, witnessing the two people who you held closest to your heart interact so delightfully.

47 pulled back from snuggling the baby and proceeded to fasten her romper before helping her into her pyjamas for the night. He picked her up and rested her against his chest, one hand gently under her butt, the other on the back of her head as he kept her close.

“All set now.” 47 announced, walking over to you. “Gonna say goodnight to mommy, babygirl?”

Vicky keened as she saw you, reaching out to be heaved over into your arms. Agent 47 leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek before going to throw out the dirty diaper, leaving you for a moment to cuddle with the baby.

“You’re so fresh and clean, aren’t you?” you mused, “You’re growing up so fast…” You kissed her face all over, making her smile.

Walking her over to her crib, you carefully laid her down, leaning down to cuddle her a bit more. Agent 47 reappeared at your side, putting a hand on your lower back.

It was a ritual you two had been performing for a few months now – bidding your daughter goodnight by peppering her in kisses before unavoidably having to withdraw yourselves from her room and deal with her cries and woes for being left alone.

It was always difficult, but you had to go through it. You just hoped that those cuddles beforehand were enough to make sure that she knew that you loved her, and that you’d be back in a few hours to breastfeed her.

Agent 47 nuzzled her for a bit, too, before coaxing you to step back and leave her to sleep. Victoria immediately began to fuss, on the verge of crying as you left her in her room, baby monitor on as well as a bed light and a music box.

You left the door open just slightly so you wouldn’t wake her upon peeking in later, sighing at the sound of Vicky starting to cry.

47 took your hand in his and guided you downstairs, knowing how difficult you found it to leave her alone.

“I know,” he told you, “I know.” Upon arriving in the living room you embraced him and laid your head against his chest in order to drown out her wails a little bit, even though the baby monitor was still on, echoing through the lounge as well.

47 slipped his fingers through your hair and kissed your forehead. “It will get better over time.” “I know.” you whispered. “In a few years, we might even be able to celebrate Valentine’s Day again the way we used to, as soon as she sleeps entire nights.”

An amused huff left him and he cupped your cheeks, tucking some strands of hair behind your ears fondly. “Who said that we cannot celebrate the way we were used to do right now? The fact that there’s a crying baby doesn’t change anything.”

You laughed lightly and leaned up to press a lingering kiss to his lips, Victoria’s cries finally decreasing a little. “Having a child changes a lot, actually.” you told him.

“Well, it doesn’t change the way I feel about being with you, (Y/n). If anything, it only increases the love I feel.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Oh, 47…” you murmured, “I love you so much.” “And I love you.”

You connected your mouth to his in a crushing kiss and felt his tongue soon slide over your bottom lip. You gladly allowed him entrance, your fingers soon reaching up to pop the first buttons of his shirt, gently tugging at his already loosened tie.

His hands slipped down to gently squeeze your ass and you let out a surprised sound, causing him to chuckle into the kiss. That cheeky action caused you to reach for his belt in turn, undoing it with practised ease, brushing over his semi-erect, covered cock through his slacks. 47 deeply hummed, pulling back to look at you.

“Two can play that game, (Y/n)…” “Hm?” you mused with feigned innocence, letting your index finger slip against the growing bulge, “What game?”

His hand was already half way up your shirt when you noticed that Victoria had stopped crying altogether.

Good, you thought, for you were yearning to have her father all to yourself for a bit. However, your anticipated pleasure was brief.

A shrill cry from upstairs pulled you out of your pleasant haze, and you reluctantly pulled away from 47’s embrace. It was unusually loud, and your maternal instincts told you that something was up.

“I’ll go.” you whispered, rushing towards the hall and up the stairs.

Switching on the lights introduced you to your crying daughter, covered in what seemed to be her own vomit. “Oh, baby…” you muttered, immediately going over to her crib to lift her out of it. She was as limp as a ragdoll and barely responded to you picking her up, still crying albeit a bit weaker than before.

“Is everything alright?” 47 quizzed behind you, and you shook your head, holding Victoria against you even though it wouldn’t leave your shirt unscathed. “It seems like she puked. Could it have been the food?”

47 walked over and put a gentle hand against her forehead. “She’s really warm. Could be the flu as well, but we can’t be sure. I’ll check out the porridge later, but let’s just clean this up first.”

“Could you change the covers on her bed? I’ll wash her up and put her in a clean pair of pyjamas.”

“Of course.” 47 responded, immediately getting to it. The babe in your arms had yet to stop weeping and the sound of your heartbeat lulled her somewhat, but you had to clean her up before she could sleep any further.

You went to the bathroom and let the shower run, lukewarm water cascading down. As carefully as you could – Victoria was still barely upholding – you stripped her of her clothes, tossing them into the sink to rinse out later.

“She’s barely got any strength.” you sighed, taking the showerhead in order to softly rinse your naked baby of the smelly, semi-translucent puke.

“She will be fine, don’t worry.” 47 assured you, heading for the sink to soak the sheets. You hummed in acknowledgement, soon finishing washing up the babe.

You dried her with a soft towel and were about to hold her against you, but 47 warned you right in time. “Sweetheart, your shirt.” you looked down and saw remnants of her throw-up.  “Ah, of course.” 47 took her from you and she began to get a little fussy, but as soon as you had taken off your shirt, you were able to hold her against your bare skin, calming her instantly.

“Why don’t you go sit downstairs with her, (Y/n)? I’ll clean this all up and put some fresh sheets on her bed.” “Okay,” you said, because you realised that you had to feed her, especially after this situation.

You went downstairs and sat on the sofa, propping a cushion under your elbow so you could position your child comfortably against your breast, bearing it. Victoria was eager and began drinking soon enough. You rubbed at her cheek, concernedly gazing down at her whilst you heard 47 rummage upstairs.

“That makes you feel better.” you mused at her, “Getting sick happens to the best of us. Even daddy feels under the weather sometimes. Rarely, but he does.”

Vicky understood nothing of what you were telling her, but being close to her mother made her sleepy once again. Agent 47 entered the lounge, shirtless, for the crisp white overshirt he wore had been dirtied in the process of washing up as well.

“Everything is all set now.” he told you, “So as soon as she’s ready, I can bring her back upstairs.”

You nodded and smiled at him. “She seems to be feeling a little better. At least she’s thirsty.”

47 walked over to the two of you and sat down next to you, leaning over to look at Victoria happily drinking. “Mommy is taking such good care of you, isn’t she?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Your mommy is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

You blushed and looked at him, causing him to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Well, I wouldn’t be able to do all this if I didn’t have such an amazing husband by my side.”

“I suppose we complete each other. Your mommy completes me, Victoria. Thanks to her, I’m more human than I’ve ever been. She gives me a live I didn’t even consider living before I met her and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Vicky looked up at 47, as if she understood everything he was telling her. His words made your mind soar and you doubted anything could ever knock you off that pink cloud you were sitting on right now.

You gently dabbed a bib under Victoria’s mouth as she was done drinking. Her eyes fluttered shut even though she tried for them to remain open, but exhaustion took the better of her.

In all fairness, you were close to falling asleep yourself as well. Tiredly, you smiled at the baby dozing off in your arms, covering up your breast again with one hand. “She’s growing up so fast.”

“She is.” 47 said. “Shall I bring her to bed, then?” “Okay.” you said, handing him Victoria, but not before pressing another kiss to her forehead.

You remained on the sofa, listening to the sounds on the baby monitor of 47 putting his daughter back into her crib, whispering a few sweet words to her. That same feeling you had felt at the start of the evening surged through your body again.

“I guess something did change ever since we got a baby.” you said as 47 joined you downstairs again, his blue eyes beautifully shimmering as they found yours. “What is it?”

Putting a hand in front of your mouth to cover up your yawn, you stretched. “I feel like I could sleep like a baby right now. Taking care of a child is difficult.”

47 sat down next to you and smiled. “It is. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

You hummed, snuggling against him. “Agreed. I suppose we can continue what we started earlier at a later time, hm?”

An amused laugh left the hitman now wrapping his arms around you. “Tomorrow won’t be Valentine’s Day anymore.”

“Luckily it’s not necessary to be Valentine’s in order to have sex.”

A pleasant silence fell over you and you laid your head against 47’s chest, listening to his calm heartbeat.

“Carry me upstairs, too?” you whispered. He chuckled against the top of your head, kissing it. “

“Certainly, sweetheart. I’ll tuck you in, too.”  

[modafactor]

THE BEST-DRESSED STARS: 2021 ACADEMY AWARDS

The year leading up to the 93rd Academy Awards may have looked very different, but one welcome constant was the parade of stunning creations on the red carpet on the iconic night. From a blue duchess satin gown by Louis Vuitton on Regina King and a yellow Cher-inspired cutout Valentino number on Zendaya, to a gilded Vera Wang dress on Andra Day and Angela Bassett in a 1980s-inspired moment by Alberta Ferretti, the ladies brought it for the night and took some chances along the way. We also have to tip our hat to LaKeith Stanfield, who did not sleep on the men's style front, wearing a jumpsuit by Saint Laurent. See who came in to the 93rd annual Academy Awards—and who took home a BAZAAR best dressed nod for their efforts.

Reference- https://www.harpersbazaar.com/

1.Zendaya

Custom Valentino Haute Couture and Bulgari jewels: The major beauty made an impressive entrance in custom lemon-yellow Valentino Haute Couture featuring a strapless silhouette and cutout detail, while simultaneously debuting a coordinating diamond necklace worth $6 million by Bulgari. Not only did she give a sneak peek at the brand’s 2021 high-jewelry collection, Magnifica, she single-handedly redefined the idiom worth a million bucks.

2.Andra Day

Custom Vera Wang Haute and Tiffany & Co. jewels: The United States vs. Billie Holiday star and Best Actress nominee took a true star turn in a cutout, asymmetrical custom liquid-gold metal-mesh gown (created with the help of metal welders) from Vera Wang's new Haute label. She paired her disco-chic standout dress with more than $2 million worth of Tiffany & Co. diamonds.

3.Vanessa Kirby

Custom Gucci and Cartier High Jewelry: The Best Actress nominee for Pieces of a Woman is pretty yet edgy in a custom pale-rose silk gazar column gown with a box pleat train by Alessandro Michele for Gucci. The ultra-feminine hue was offset by a deep-red lip, dark nails, and a subtle cutout detail at the waist. Cartier jewels finished the sleek, '90s-inspired moment.

4.Amanda Seyfried

Giorgio Armani Privé and Forevermark jewelry: The Best Supporting Actress nominee was all Hollywood glamour in this haute couture scarlet strapless ball gown spun out of plissé tulle, featuring a deep-V neckline with ruffle accents and a sweeping, dramatic full skirt. Her pretty updo, diamond earrings, and red pout polished off the look.

5.Viola Davis

Custom Alexander McQueen and Forevermark jewelry: No stranger to the Oscars red carpet, Viola Davis—up for a lead actress statue—was a vision in a white thistle appliqué gown by Sarah Burton for Alexander McQueen. She finished the look with a Jimmy Choo Venus clutch.

6.H.E.R.

Custom Dundas and Chopard jewels: We're getting Stevie Nicks-meets-Aaliyah vibes from the songstress, who went with a custom, embellished cobalt-blue flared-leg jumpsuit with a hooded cape by Dundas. The singer accessorized with Bonnie Clyde sunglasses and Chopard jewels.

7.Carey Mulligan

Valentino Haute Couture and Sophia Webster heels: Mulligan went for the gold in a stunning Valentino Haute Couture gown that boasted a cutout waist (a major trend of the night). Though the actress may be in line with the recurring themes of the evening, she stood out in this gilded masterpiece.

8.Angela Bassett

Custom Alberta Ferretti and Chopard jewels: Angela Bassett embodied agelessness in a custom red crepe off-the-shoulder gown with draped organza shoulders and a train by Alberta Ferretti. The '80s-influenced look is all about drama, worn with Chopard jewels and sleek hair tucked behind the ears.

9.Laura Dern

Oscar de la Renta and Pomellato jewelry: You could say Laura Dern is a bird of another feather, standing out in a red-carpet crowd that largely embraced cutouts, red, and gold. The full-coverage black-and white gown with a drop-waist and stunning feather skirt was well worth the risk.

10.LaKeith Stanfield

Custom Saint Lauren: We love a man who loves fashion. With this custom Saint Laurent look by Anthony Vaccarello, Best Supporting Actor nominee LaKeith Stanfield proved (once again) that he's willing to redefine what creates a red-carpet moment. His black-and-white '70s-inspired outfit featured a wide, open shirt collar under a belted jumpsuit, paired with brown-lensed sunglasses and a silver chain.

11.Regina King

Custom Louis Vuitton and Forevermark jewelry: The actress nailed the 2021 Oscars red carpet in crystal-encrusted blue duchess satin by Nicolas Ghesquière for Louis Vuitton. The embroidered gown boasted dramatic flay-away sleeves and a deep-V neckline. King paired the elegant dress with a simple, sleek bob and diamond earrings.

12.Margot Robbie

Custom Chanel Haute Couture: Margot Robbie appeared on the evening's carpet not as an actress, but as a producer of the highly lauded Promising Young Woman. She dressed for the occasion in a custom sheath in ennobled metallic lace with a low back and thin straps, inspired by look 47 from the fall-winter 2019/20 haute couture collection by Virginie Viard.

Check out some more red carpet looks:

13.Halle Berry in Dolce & Gabbana

14.Yuh-Jung Youn in Marmar Halim and Yeri Han in Louis Vuitton

15.Celeste in Gucci

16.Alan Kim in Thom Browne and Vicky Kim

17.Colman Domingo in Atelier Versace

18.Olivia Colman in Dior Haute Couture

[scribbuluswrites]

High Brow

I had a sudden burst of inspiration from that photo. Enjoy! :)

Angel made a face, spitting the wine into the little silver bucket. He wrinkled his nose, making a sound deep in his throat as he grabbed for two of flavorless wafers. 

“The fuck is this shit?” he asked, his whisper loud enough to be heard across the tasting room. Coco covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh out loud. 

“I don’t know, bro, but these things suck all the moisture out of your mouth,” Coco chimed in, smacking his lips together.  

“Could you guys keep it down?” EZ complained, nodding an apology to the patrons closest to them. It was his fault. He had suggested they stop at one of the wineries in the tiny town they were driving through. 

“We embarrassin’ you, boy scout?” Coco chuckled, clinking his glass against Angel’s. 

“Pinky out!” Angel chastised loudly, pretending to be outraged at Coco’s hold on the glass. “Get it right, puta.” They snickered, leaning over the low table as they laughed. EZ rolled his eyes, wishing the two of them could pretend to fit in. 

Coco spotted a woman sitting alone, her back leaned against one of the large trees in the garden space behind the tasting room. She had a book rested against her legs, but she was looking around at the other people, grinning to herself as she caught bits of conversations. 

“No,” Angel said loudly, interrupting Coco’s thoughts. He looked back over his shoulder at his brother. “There ain’t a chance in hell that,” he pointed at the woman for emphasis, “would sit with you.” Coco scoffed. EZ and Angel both raised their eyebrows. 

“This I gotta see,” EZ commented, turning his chair so he had an unobstructed view. 

“Watch and learn, boy scout.” He picked up his untouched red wine and sauntered over to her tree. The woman looked up as he approached, curious what he was going to say. “Matches your hair,” he grinned, swirling the deep red liquid. She blinked at him in surprise for a moment before bursting into laughter. 

“Whatever I expected to come out of your mouth, that was not it.” She smiled brightly, shaking her head at him. “Want to join me….” 

“Coco,” he supplied, flopping onto the grass next to her. He leaned back against the tree, his shoulder resting against hers. 

“What’s the verdict, Coco puff?” He blinked at her for a moment, surprised that she wasn’t even the least bit intimidated. Most people took one look at his tattoos and then wouldn’t dare tease him so openly. “The wine,” she continued, gesturing to the forgotten glass in his hand. “It’s either a fresh pour or you hated it.” 

“It’s… maybe I’m… it’s shit,” Coco admitted, struggling not to just blurt that. She took the glass out of his hand, taking a sip. 

“It’s not quite as good as the previous year,” she agreed, giving him a nod. 

“You can taste the difference between years? I think all this wine tasting is dumb as hell, but that’s a skill,” he praised, looking her up and down. She shrugged, a small grin on her face. 

“If you want to be successful, it’s better if you know the shit out of your product.” She handed the glass back to him, tapping the ‘E’ engraved into it. “Elise,” she introduced. Coco’s mouth dropped open a bit. 

“This is your place?” 

“Yup,” she answered, popping the ‘p’ sound. The grin she was wearing had turned a bit smug. “What a twist.” Coco’s mouth opened and closed a few times. He had no idea what to say. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning his head back against the trunk. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t…” 

“I know a way you could make it up to me,” she interrupted, looking mischievous. 

“Anything, querida,” he said quickly, wondering what she had in mind. 

“Do you have a bike to go with that whole look?” she asked, making a sweeping motion with her hand. He grinned and nodded. “Good. I need a date for the dinner I’m going to tonight.” 

“At your service,” Coco chuckled, downing the remaining wine in his glass. He hated the taste, but it gave his head a pleasant fuzziness. 

“You’re just the thing to mortify my mother.” 

Coco walked back to Angel and EZ. They were both staring at him, Angel speaking first. 

“You’re back quick.” 

“Yeah, I’m not picking her up until seven,” he said plainly, pretending to inspect his fingernails. 

**

Elise looked over his custom bike. The full picture, Coco wearing his kutte, tattoos peeking out from his rolled sleeves, was hot. She only slightly regretted her choice of dress, smirking as she pictured the look on her mother’s face when she rode up perched on the back of his bike.

“Can’t wait to see you ride like that,” he said with a chuckle, looking at her from head to toe. 

“I bet you can’t,” she winked, surprised to see him duck his head a little bit. Coco wasn’t quite so assured as he pretended. “You look like every mum’s worst nightmare. It’s really working for me,” Elise grinned, reassuring him. “C’mon, Coco puff, take me for a ride.”

Elise took the helmet he offered, fastening the strap under her chin. She tossed her leg over the bike, situating herself as best she could. Her dress was even shorter than she’d expected. Coco glanced over his shoulder, grinning at her. 

“Anytime, dulce,” he murmured, running his hand over the bare skin above her knee. He felt goosebumps rise on her skin, his confidence suddenly much higher. Elise leaned her head against his back, knowing she was totally screwed. Trying to play hard to get would be pointless. 

Their entrance couldn’t have been any better if she’d planned it. Elise’s mother was outside in the front courtyard, showing off yet another tacky, yet fancifully, trimmed hedge. The topiaries were her pride and joy. 

Coco’s bike roared up the gravel drive, shattering the atmosphere. Elise could just imagine the soft classical music that had been pouring out from the open windows, totally drowned out by the throaty softail. 

He parked the bike next to the fountain in the center of the circle drive, his eyes giant as he stared at the house. Elise pulled off the helmet, handing it to him. Coco didn’t move until Elise reached forward, pressing it firmly against his chest until he wrapped his fingers around the edge of it. 

“Feeling alright?” He shook his head, hanging the strap over the bars without his eyes ever leaving the palatial home. 

“You grew up in there?” he asked, his voice almost awe-struck. Elise laughed loudly. 

“No way. This is from Gilbert, husband number three. Her true skill is luring in disgustingly rich old men,” she explained, the look of disdain clear in her eyes. “That sounds… awful. She’s just always acting like she built this fucking place with her own two hands,” Elise relented, blowing out a breath. “I’m not a shitty person, I promise.” Coco snorted. 

“Nah, mami. Nobody gets mommy issues like me.” He smiled at her, finally tearing his eyes away. He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his kutte, offering one to her. Elise shook her head, biting her lip to stop her grin from spreading as she heard her mother gasp. 

“You can’t smoke out here!” she whispered harshly, her voice definitely louder than intended. Elise sighed at the shrill quality. Coco was already getting under her skin, and it was perfect. 

“Why can’t I smoke outside?” he asked, looking thoroughly confused. 

“You’ll ruin the scent atmosphere.” Coco’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked over at Elise. She was barely containing her snickering. 

“Your cigarette might cloud the aroma of motor oil and exhaust fumes,” Elise quipped, cupping a hand around her mouth to direct her words to Coco. “Hello, mother.” 

“It always sounds like something should follow that word with the way you say it,” her mother replied, clasping her hands in front of her. “You couldn’t just attend one of my functions? Must you turn it into a show?” 

“A show?” Her mother made a face, gesturing first to Coco and then to his motorcycle. 

“Johnny,” he introduced, holding out his hand. “Not that I don’t feel totally welcome already.” Elise coughed, covering up a laugh. Coco might be a little shy with her, but he definitely wasn’t intimidated by her stuck up mother. 

“Victoria.” She gingerly shook his hand, obviously wishing she didn’t have to touch him. 

“Nice digs, Vicki,” he complimented, stubbing off the end of his cigarette. He hadn’t smoked much of it and tucked it behind his ear. Victoria looked scandalised. “Give me the tour, dulce.” Coco smacked Elise’s ass, giving her a wink. 

“That was really fun for me,” she confessed, linking her fingers with his as they walked into the house. 

Before Coco could really look around, Elise pulled him into the first room they came to. It looked like a large study. There was a giant wooden desk in front of a large window that looked out onto a courtyard. The other two walls were covered with bookshelves. 

“Holy shit, EZ would…” Elise interrupted his sentence, putting her hands on his shoulders so he would face her. 

“Just… I want to make something clear first,” she began, stumbling over her words. Coco sighed a little, prepared for the speech about him being just a tool to poke at her mother. “I invited you here to upset my mum and keep me company,” she continued, gesturing to the house around them. “But, I invited you because…” she paused, ears going red. “Would you want to have dinner with me?” 

“Thought there was dinner here,” Coco commented, grinning at the exasperated sigh she let out. 

“Just me,” Elise clarified. He made a surprised face, pretending to have no idea what she was intending. 

“Like a date?” 

“No, not like a date. A date.” Coco grinned, glad for a chance to tease her back. 

“My bad,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer. 

“Shit,” Elise swore, dropping her head as she heard her mother shouting from the entry hall. “She considers this a ‘sacred room’,” she explained, imitating her mother’s affected accent. 

“Don’t want to piss her off that much?” Elise shook her head, looking up at him. 

“I absolutely do, but not this early into the evening. Honestly, I’ve always had a fantasy about getting fucked against these bookshelves,” she admitted, grinning sheepishly. 

“You know I’m dragging you back in here later tonight, right?” he said, eyes hungry. 

“You know I’m going to encourage it, right?” she replied, giving him a wink. 

“C’mon, let go horrify mommy dearest while I can still think straight.” 

[serzhantkris]

Rebel Yell- 3

Summary: Let’s get something straight: he does not love you. He knows that for sure, because he doesn’t want to scream at you and he doesn’t want to get married, and that’s the only things he knows for sure about people who are in love. And he was doomed to kiss with his fists and scream and be angry and blame everyone but himself for the rest of his life. So, no. Billy did not love you. Billy Hargrove x Hopper!Reader

Word Count: 2244

Masterlist

“So then she said that I was bullshit, ‘cause I was pretending everything’s okay.”

Steve crumbled up the wrapper, still chewing through the words, and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed unceremoniously in the back seat of the BMW, along with the other junk food he’d been scarfing down for the past two weeks.

“Exactly how many times did she say ‘bullshit?’” You reach for your drink in the center console, frowning at Steve from the passenger seat. He shrugs.

“I dunno, like six. Everything was just… Bullshit, I guess.” He doesn’t look away from the carton of french fries sitting in his lap. “Hops, did- did we-” Steve pauses, looking out the dirty windshield at the school sitting below, “She said, we killed Barb.”

Other students mulled about the lot, eating their lunches and gossiping about who’s dating who, who wore what. Some of them studied for SATs and worried if they’d be invited to parties that weekend. You caught some familiar faces- Tina, twirling her hair around her finger while she flirted with Ram Sweeney; Heather, sitting on the trunk of Vicky Larson’s car. Tommy and Carol, practically swallowing each other’s tongues. 

None of them had any clue what had almost happened to them a year ago. What had happened to you and to Steve and countless others. To Barbara Holland.

“I think,” the words come slow, like you’re trying to believe them before you let Steve hear. “None of us could have known what was going to happen to her.”

“Yeah,” Steve clears his throat. “Yeah, but we- we did leave her there. You know? We left her outside, alone.”

Suddenly, Steve’s fries and the hamburger in your lap smells rotten. “We didn’t know.”

That was all you could say. And if it convinced Steve or you or Nancy that what happened wasn’t your fault, that would have been enough. But it didn’t, and it wasn’t.

“Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am bullshit.”

You tore your eyes from your reflection in the car window. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Steve chuckles under his breath, leaning his head back in the seat. The low sound of the radio fills in the quiet, both of you lost in thought for a long moment. 

Finally, you say, “I think you should talk to her.”

“Think she’ll listen?”

“I think she regrets what happened. I think the worst that can happen is the two of you decide you need some space. Maybe talking to her about Barbara, and admitting that you were wrong to ignore her feelings on the subject will benefit both of you.” 

Steve nods, chewing worriedly on the inside of his cheek. “I should buy flowers.”

The spray of water hit him right in the face, stinging his skin from the pressure and intense heat. It ran down his throat and over the back of his head, sticking his hair to his face and neck as he scrubbed at his scalp with his fingertips. Eyes closed, he listened to the sounds of the others as they moved toward the showers.

Running a hand over his face, flicking the soap to the tiles under his feet, Billy blinked at the harsh orange walls around him. Pinching his nose, he cast a sideways look at the boy on his left.

“Don’t sweat it, Harrington,” he said. “Today’s just not your day, man.”

He pushed the handle on the shower that he, Steve, and Tommy were circled around, cutting off the water on his showerhead. Reaching for a towel, he pressed it against his face.

“Yeah, not your week,” Tommy added, looking around the shower to Steve. “You and the princess break up- you think she’s run off with the freak’s brother yet?”

Steve shot Tommy a harsh look, but the other boy’s grin just grew. Billy eyed Tommy, opening the towel in his hands as Tommy turned off his own water spout and moved toward the wall of towels.

“Don’t take it too hard, man,” Billy said, watching Steve push soap through his mess of hair. “Pretty boy’s like you’s got nothin’ to worry about. Plenty of bitches in the sea.”

“Guess that leaves some room for Hopper,” Tommy ruffled the towel through his hair. “Why have the princess when you could have the queen?”

Billy’s grip on the towel tightened as he wrapped it around his waist. If Billy had learned anything from hanging out with the freckled boy, it was that he was the exact person to go to for details about the girls at the high school.

“What’s her deal, anyway?” Billy rubbed at his nose, tilting his head back to look at Tommy. “She got a boy-toy or is she just a huge fuckin’ tease?”

Steve clenches his jaw, watching soap run down the drain. “Neither,” he snaps. Tommy just laughs, leaning against the wall with the towel wrapped around him.

“Not from what I remember,” Tommy says. “You remember last year, she ran out on Kurt Kelley when he tried to put it in her-”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Steve’s hand smacked the spout, cutting off the water abruptly. “And you know she didn’t do shit with Kurt Kelley.”

Billy’s nostrils flared, tongue between his teeth as he watched Steve grab up a towel and storm to the other side of the lockers, leaving Tommy laughing and Billy intrigued in his wake.

Billy had claimed the corner of your smoking spot for his own. Always tucked where no one could see him from the window, he puffed on cigarettes and always flashed you a sideways smile when you snuck out the door. He shared his lighter, sometimes his smokes, and you returned the favor. It wasn’t quite a friendship, but it was a comradery. The two of you didn’t speak much, if at all, and never paid much attention to each other once the door closed and you were back in the fluorescent halls.

It didn’t take words, or even attention. In that little nook by the dumpster, no one could see. Billy didn’t go out of his way to try and win you over like the Halloween party. He didn’t need to be tough or flirtatious. He could just lean against the brick wall, you standing beside him, and blow smoke into the air. The silence was comfortable, and even though you didn’t know much about Billy, it was as though you’d known him for a long time.

The game you had unwittingly started with Billy had started to seep into your everyday life. Less than a month of knowing the guy, you were already enamoured. Not in the same way that Tina or Heather or any of the other girls were; sure, he was attractive. Almost insultingly so. He had the bad boy look- the bad boy everything. The Sammy Hagar hair, the leather jacket and button up shirts, the sparkling blue eyes- alright. So yeah, he was hot and definitely a hot mess just dying to happen.

But through the flirting, the crooked grins and the attitude, there was something in Billy Hargrove that was screaming. Something that made you want to joke, to tease and make him laugh. Under it all, he was sad. Maybe just as sad as you were. And like a magnet, it’s starting to pull you in.

There was no sun here, the cubby masked in shade, and even without the wind it made your fingers numb as you dug in your pocket for a cigarette. You glanced around the small space and couldn’t stop the disappointment from slouching your shoulders.

“You lookin’ for somebody?”

The sun reflected off the roof of the building as you squinted up, shielding your eyes to find him. Billy’s collar was turned up against the cold, cigarette in undoubtedly cold fingers. His arm hung lazily off of his knee, flicking the ashes over the side of the dumpster he was sitting on. The other leg hung off the side, swinging absently just a few feet from you.

“What are you doing up there?”

Billy raised the cigarette. “Smoking.”

Sticking the cigarette in your teeth, you approached the dumpster and grabbed the edge, hoisting yourself up by him. Your boots slid against the side of the dumpster, proving it to be a more difficult task than expected. Billy chuckled under his breath, sticking his own cigarette in his mouth and offering you his hands. He pulled you up, barely straining a muscle as your rear end hit the lid beside him.

With no walls to protect you, you pulled your hood up over your head. Your hair and face peeked out the front, cheeks turning red quickly. You fumbled for your lighter as Billy puffed on his cigarette.

“Here.” He turned toward you, leaning closer with a hand cupped around the butt. You followed suit, the end of your cigarette touching his as you inhaled. The smoke filled your lungs and you sat back, trying to ignore the warmth of his shoulder and thigh that were touching yours.

“Thanks.”

The two of you sat in silence for a long moment, flicking ashes below and blowing smoke toward the sky. “Who’s Kurt?”

“What?”

“Kurt Kelley,” he clarified, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Heard a rumor about you and him today.”

You peer at Billy, pushing your hood back just enough to get a good look at him. He’s staring ahead, the blue of his eyes focused on the roof. The fog in front of his lips comes from the cold, not the cigarette smoldering in his hand. “He graduated last year.”

Smoke billows out of Billy’s nose. “And?”

“And,” you repeat, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “That depends what version of the story you heard.”

Billy chuckles under his breath. “How ‘bout the truth?”

The November wind drags Billy’s hair over his cheek. He makes no effort to brush it away, letting it stick to his chapped lips. He jabs the cigarette on the metal, letting it sizzle out.

“The truth is, Kurt Kelley is a liar,” you sigh. “Why do you care, anyway?”

Billy’s lips twitch into a smirk. “Here I thought we were friends.”

“You don’t even know me,” you tell him. 

“I know you like Joan Jett.”

“That was a dead giveaway.”

He turns his head, finally looking at you. The sun lights up half his face, the side that’s turned toward you, and you can make out every detail. He’s a Renaissance painting, made of winter blues and summer tans, and every flaw is lit up in a November halo.

“Maybe I wanna know you,” Billy says.

For the first time, you feel intimidated by him. “How’s that?”

He kisses you, and it’s warm and sweet and tastes like oranges; he’s a spot of summer, warm on your lips and the fingers that come to touch your face feel like fire. He’s hot and you’re freezing, leaning into his touch like it will save you from turning to ice. There’s an underlying taste of ash and wintergreen gum, and when he pulls away and licks his lips, you wonder if he tastes all of it too.

Your cheeks are flushed, pink crawling up over your nose. Your lips are pouted, starting to chap from the cold, but they’re still warm when he leans back, and now he’s looking at you like you’re the painting. 

“How very.”

His laugh is genuine- not at all the wolfish cackle you’d heard every time before, but a burst of sunlight coming from deep in his chest. His tongue gets caught between his teeth, and somewhere faraway, you can hear bells. School bells. Below, a rush of voices pass the door that led you to the dumpster, and to Billy.

“We’re late,” you whisper, indifferent. Billy just nods, not even blinking. 

He stands, adjusting his jeans before he grabs the edge of the dumpster and swings himself down. You scoot after him, legs hanging over, peering down. It’s not a far drop, but Billy stands there anyway, hand up to help you down. You land between him and the green metal, Billy looking down at you like he might kiss you again.

“Go out with me tonight,” he says. Billy’s teeth scrape his bottom lip, drawing it into what might be construed as a hopeful expression. “Let me know you.”

“That’s the most forward thing you’ve ever said to me.” You inhale, the air crisp and cold in your lungs. “Is this because of Kurt? ‘Cause you think I’ll sleep with you?”

Billy snorts, stuffing his hands in his pockets and taking a step back. He should have been offended, and normally, he’d at least pretend to be. But your question had not been accusatory- only curious, and honestly, he didn’t think you would in a million years. 

“I don’t care about what you did or didn’t do,” he shrugs. “And if you tell me to leave you alone and go fuck myself, I’ll leave you alone and go fuck myself.”

It’s a terrible, horrible, no-good idea. Saying yes to Billy was to invite the wolf inside, to open the door that you had left closed for a long, long time. He’d already taken a bite of Tina and Heather and Vicky and-- all those girls, left for scraps. Begging for another taste of Billy Hargrove. If he huffed and puffed, maybe you’d be left wanting more, too.

“Yeah. Okay, yeah.”

Taglist Open

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[shadowslackinglight]

#3 - The Children

This is Victoria Winters. As an architect, I simply adore old buildings. Every aspect of a building from the past, if properly maintained, can teleport you to a different time. From the moment I moved into Collinwood, the care taken to preserve it was evident. No detail was neglected. Visually, it was like stepping through a portal into colonial North America. Despite the age of the manor, I was delighted to see that the manor had no smell of must or mold, and it looked simply exquisite. The way Collinwood felt, however, was a different thing altogether. I will admit that I felt uneasy in the house. I can’t quite put my finger on it except to say that it felt as if the house were somehow alive. I felt as though it was watching my every move. Maybe it was.

From the Diary of Victoria Winters

Although it was not yet dusk, the storm now raging outside coupled with the lack of lighting in the house darkened the drawing-room as if it were the witching hour. Roger moved to a bureau and removed a candle and match from one of its drawers. He promptly lit the candle, observing the light emanating from its tip while he shook the match to extinguishment. 

“I’m sure the authorities will have the power up and running in no time,” he said to Vicky, “Unfortunately, this is a fairly regular occurrence. This region of the state is quite well known for its storms. A byproduct of being so close to the ocean, I imagine. Please follow me to your room.”

Without saying a word, Vicky followed Roger from the drawing-room, up the stairs, and into a hallway on the second floor. Downstairs had been dark, but at least some light protruded through the windows of the exterior wall. The hallway leading to her room had no such window or exterior wall to afford the same modicum of comfort. The effect was a pitch-black walkway. The only thing visible to Vicky was the vague outline of the man leading her which was only present due to the soft glow of the candle he was holding in front of him. The hallway must not have been too narrow, because Vicky could not even see the walls to her left or right. She was completely blind. 

Roger continued to lead her for several long, anxiety-filled moments in silence. The only sounds Vicky could hear were the creaking of the old house and the frequent claps of thunder and rain outside. Fear continued to grow within her. Her mind raced. She was not a claustrophobic individual under normal circumstances, but the darkness around her began to close in like walls. The absence of any other sound allowed for her thoughts to ring in her head loud and true. She needed light. She needed something to break the suffocation she was feeling. 

“This is quite the journey. Are we nearly there?” she asked Roger, hoping conversation would break the fear.

Roger, however, did not capitulate to her efforts. 

The anxiety in her head spiked as they took another dozen steps. Her breath became shallow. Her eyes shifted from side-to-side, and she felt sweat beading on her brow. Her mind ran wild, now. She was panicking. 

Just as she was about to let out a shriek, however, Roger stopped and turned to face her. “Here we are,” he said. 

As it turned out, the hallway was not so wide. Roger took only one step to his right before the candle illuminated a wooden door with a golden handle. He removed a key from his pocket, inserting it into the lock, and turned.

“Apologies for the mess within. We didn’t have time to have Gates clean it before your arrival,” he said as he opened the door, “This is one of the guest rooms in the house, but it hasn’t been used since I can recall.”

Leading Vicky into the room, he walked to the opposite wall and lit an oil lantern attached to a fixture with the candle in his hand. He adjusted a small knob until a dull, effective glow lit up much of the room, casting shadows in spaces beyond its reach. 

Vicky took in the room. The oil lamp was positioned next to a large, four-poster bed. The bed was covered in red drapery, red sheets, and a black blanket. There were cobwebs hanging from each of its corners. Roger walked around the bed brusquely and lit a matching oil lamp on the other side of the bed, again adjusting the light to his liking. There were three other pieces of furniture in the room: a dresser with a mirror above it, a desk, and a wooden chair. There were also two other doors in the room aside from the one in which they had entered. 

“Through those doors are a closet and a personal bathroom,” Roger said, “As I’ve said, storms like this are fairly common, so I’m sure the power will return momentarily. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable, and I will have Gates bring dinner to you in your room.”

“Thank you,” Vicky replied.

Roger walked to the door to see himself out, “One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“While here, you may go anywhere you please,” he continued, “with one exception. Under no circumstances are you to enter the room directly across from this. That’s David’s room, and it is strictly off-limits. Beyond that, consider Collinwood your home.”

He turned and exited back into the hallway, slowly shutting her door behind him. The old door gave a long croak as it shut. When the door closed, to Vicky’s surprise, there was one more noise: the sound of a key turning and locking the door from the other side.

Peculiar, Vicky thought to herself. She dismissed it as Roger wanting to give her some privacy, however, and quickly became lost in her own thoughts. Normally, after a stressful day such as this one, she would take a long, hot bath. With no power at the moment and dinner on the way, that simply wasn’t a possibility. She wandered the room, wiping some dust off of the sparse furniture, and opened the doors to the bathroom and closet. In the closet, she found that someone had already brought up her overnight bag. She couldn’t recall exactly where she had left it after her arrival but was thankful it found its way to her room. She decided to pass the time by reading a book she had started on the train, but just when she was beginning to really lose herself in the story, Vicky heard the key turning in her door, again.

“Hello?” she spoke to the door.

There was no answer.

She got up from the bed she had sprawled out on and began to move toward the door, “Roger?” she asked.

Again, there was no answer.

She made it to the door, and slowly grabbed the knob. Though she wasn’t sure why the anxiety she felt in the hallway was returning. Before she could stop it, her hand turned the doorknob and swung the door inward, revealing the dark hallway. She was now past the point of no return. If there truly was any reason to be scared, it could now get her unimpeded. She peeked her head past the doorway and looked both left and right down the hall. Her visibility was severely impaired, however, her visibility was severely impaired as the only light in the hallway was coming from her room. 

Just as she was about to shut the door, however, something caught her eye at her feet. Something shiny. She looked down to see what it was and found a silver tray. Upon it was a plate with her dinner upon it, a glass of red wine, a napkin, and a silver key. Vicky sighed in relief. She bent down and carefully picked up the meal and carried it inside, closing the door behind her as she did.

She sat on the bed and eagerly began to consume the meal. She hadn’t realized quite how famished she was until the first bite hit her tongue. The meal consisted of duck confit, puy lentils, and roasted red potatoes. She sat in silence for several minutes eating and staring at the key. 

Once finished, she wiped her mouth delicately with the napkin provided and stood up. She set the napkin back on the tray, and with the glass of wine in one hand, picked up the tray. She wasn’t sure what to do with it. She decided to leave it outside her door. She had a feeling that walking it to the kitchen would be a bad idea but also had no desire to keep the plate of small duck bones in her room all night. 

She placed the tray back where she had found it, removing the key and continuing to study it. The key looked old-fashioned to her. It was long and silver and in immaculate condition. It even looked as though someone had taken the care to polish it. There were two teeth at the end of it with slightly different length and small ridges upon each. The handle portion of the key was an intricate pattern of overlapping hearts with a small diamond in the middle. She looked to the door of her room, after again and noticed for the first time that the interior lock of the door required a key instead of the traditional unlocking latch. She tried the key in the hole and found it to be a perfect fit. She locked her door securely with it and put the key on the nightstand. She then made herself comfortable on the large bed and read until she eventually fell asleep.

Vicky startled awake sometime in the middle of the night. She had no idea how long she’d been out. Her sleep had been dreamless and restful, but something had interrupted it. She wasn’t sure what it was. She stared up toward the ceiling of the now pitch-black room, listening for whatever had disturbed her. Sleeping in an unfamiliar place was never the most comfortable circumstance for Vicky. To her, it felt too vulnerable, too exposed. Her fatigue from the events of the day had made that vulnerability disappear for a moment, but now that she was awake, again, she felt it creeping back. She waited for a long while to see what had startled her. She felt the still-open book against her chest and carefully removed it, setting it beside her on the bed, careful not to move too much or too fast. 

Then, she heard it. The noise that had subconsciously removed her from her state of rest came again. She jumped a bit, though she wasn’t sure what she heard. Luckily, it didn’t sound like it was coming from her side of the door she had locked after dinner. She waited to see if the sound would present itself a third time. She didn’t have to wait long, and this time she was more ready for it. She felt a cold sweat beading upon her brow. The noise, though there, was still very faint. It was almost as if whatever was making the noise didn’t want to be heard. 

Vicky lie perfectly still, and the noise continued. Sometimes she could barely hear it and other times it was more clear. Was that laughter? She wondered.

It was! 

Vicky was sure of it, now. She stood up slowly and went to her door, grabbing the key as she did. She put her ear against the large wooden door and listened closely. On the other side, she heard the unmistakable sound of two children whispering and giggling. There were other noises, as well, that sounded to her like toys being moved and used. She smiled to herself, embarrassed that she had been frightened of children. After all, hadn’t Roger said that David’s room was just across the hall?

Without knowing why she was doing it, Vicky unlocked her door and opened it slowly. The door creaked as she did. She opened it just wide enough for her to peek through the crack. She peered into the hallway. The hall, instead of being encased in darkness as before, was illuminated by a faint light just beyond her room. As Vicky’s eyes adjusted to it, she saw that the source of the light was coming from the bottom of the closed door across the hall. She tip-toed toward it, careful not to make a sound, and put her ear to the door. Again, she heard the whispering and giggling of small children. There were definitely two of them. Vicky smiled to herself, realizing that David must have a friend over for a sleepover.

Vicky turned and tip-toed back to her room, closing the door behind her, and settled into her bed. She let out a large, contented sigh and felt fatigue coming for her once again and relented to it.

[tinysupervicki]

It’s hard to stay away, huh? I did turn off my notifications on twitter but I still peeked. Why are y’all so amazing to me? What did I do to deserve this love? This community?

Since y’all have been there for me ever since my mom passed three years ago, I’d do anything for y’all. I felt I did let y’all down because I’m a content creator and haven’t done anything in so long. It sucks because I’m yearning to do so but lack the time due to now being an adult, working a grueling adult job and living with family.

I believe I will be able to get a place of my own later in the year, I’m really hoping for that. As for my full time job, I’m actively looking for another one. The one I’m at, I feel I work so hard but I’m not appreciated enough. It’s a healthcare industry and I work hard to help people with their needs while management focuses on metrics and numbers. I wanna get out of there.

I haven’t had time to myself and just be selfish for once? So I’m glad I was able to take time off to have a pretty long weekend to enjoy Sizecon 2020 and spend time with friends.

Let’s get started on the recap, shall we? Bare with me, I talk a lot (and not well might I add).

Day 1: Thursday 2/13/20

I woke up at 4 am to catch my flight that leaves at 6:45 am. I thankfully had all my bags packed, I just needed to shower and be ready. My dad took me to the airport and wished me off. At this point, I had plenty of time, even seeing the long TSA line at the Houston airport. I had internally groaned a lot but managed through. After having some minutes to spare, I grabbed a quick bite to eat at one of the dining places, a lovely breakfast bowl that I can have (those of you who don’t know me, I have celiac disease and I have to eat gluten free). Jumped on my flight and comfortably slept in my seat on the plane. The plan was to have a connecting flight to Charlotte, NC and then to Newark, NJ.

Two hours later, I woke up to not at my destination but at Colombia, SC. Apparently, while I was asleep, they had to divert us to the next airport because the weather was really bad in NC. We had two options: stay on the plane and wait it out until we’re back in the air to NC, or get off the plane and figure out another alternative. I stayed, I had plenty of time until my connecting flight was scheduled (which I actually got alerts that it ending up delaying a lot) so I stayed in my seat and watched greys anatomy. About almost an hour passed and we’re finally back up in the air, with more space to breathe since there were people that did leave the plane. Landed safely in NC and I ventured off to find snacks and wait at my gate. It kept delaying but I finally was able to get on my flight to NJ, making my total time at the airport and in the air...all day, I can’t do math lol. I safely landed in NJ at 5:30 pm, I had been awake since 4 am. It was a day.

Yo, I’m gonna get him and his wife a gift, I swear to god, but DJ (aka Giantgripper) saved me by picking me up from the airport and letting me stay the night at his place. When he’s the host, he does one heck of a job as a host. Since I hadn’t eaten a proper meal since 5 in the morning or so, DJ took me to a Mediterranean little mom and pop restaurant that I fell in love with. Had a stuffed pepper and practically cleaned everything off my plate. After we ate, I accompanied DJ while he did some errands for extra things he needed for the con (which did include articles of clothing for the giant cafe lol). I was happy to help as much as I could. After that, we made it back to his place. Once his wife Adri (chibiana) came home from work, we watched a documentary while trying (and failing with me because I’m a turd) to make different mixed drinks to taste. I ended up going with hot chocolate, I’m a simpleton when it comes to alcohol. A little bit afterwards, I had to pass out, it was a long ass day.

Day 2: Friday 2/14/20

Valentine’s was just another day for me. Woke up, got dressed, and DJ surprised me with a fresh homemade breakfast. It was magnificent, I scrapped the plate then too. Plans for the day was to get allllllll the stuff we need and travel to the hotel, which apparently was an hour and a half away from DJ’s house I believe. Adri had to go do another thing for work and was gonna meet up later. DJ and I traveled to the hotel first. I passed out again in the car, I was so exhausted from before I guess it had hit me again.

We made it to the hotel and unpacked the car with my stuff, his and Adri’s bags, and things for the con. I got to say quick hellos to people I knew that were already there (gave a big ass hug to Miss Kaneda, she’s so precious and a big hug to IamFilledwithStatic). I was going to be sharing a room with shortmarcy, Morgana (Moe), and Guiri. So since I had arrived first, I will check in first; Morgana and Guiri were still flying from Spain and shortmarcy didn’t come until the next morning. Since it was under shortmarcy’s name and the deposit was paid under her, She had to call to have the hotel let me check in for her. In turn, I had to put my card on file. I thought I was being a responsible adult and I thought it was gonna charge like half of the charge or something but...they charged the full price of the hotel. Which was $503...which was basically everything in my bank account. I didn’t know that was gonna happen, I panicked and just sat on the couch outside of the con area while Robyn (goddess-rei) comforted me. I had to come to terms that shit happens and I had no money for the weekend. But I graciously had the best of friends this weekend, I’ll get to that in a sec.

After my bumming out, I changed to put on my blouse for the valentines banquet (one of my guaranteed dinners that night lol). I met up with Morgana and Guiri and also sillylilbug (she’s so adorably sweet). We had our own table along with my friend Joe (CaptainRandGTS, who is a phenomenal photographer btw). We ate some good food and they took account of my gluten free (however I think the chimichurri steak may have upset my stomach). I said goodnight and went to my room to basically turn the bathroom up XD I had changed into my pajamas to head downstairs to get water and pain medicine when I turned the corner and saw a group of people walking down the hall. Guys, I’m still getting used to this, but the group was like, “Is that Vicki?!” “That is her!” And I was like WHAT. It was my lovely friends sviolet, mansquishers, mister finch, Joseph moestar, and Strongshadow2018. I was so surprised and honored, I was gushing. I got to hang out with them in their hotel room for a bit, played cards against humanity (I WON!) and ate ridiculously delicious gluten free cookies misterfinch made.

Day 3: Saturday 2/15/20

Con day. This day was a bit of a blur honestly (my mind is not the same people) but I know I took this day to “try” and relax. I was still bummed about my money problem but I had enough to buy the breakfast buffet meal ticket. My idea was to chow down a lot of food (since it was a buffet) so I won’t ask for food but that did not happen because I have wonderful friends?? Towards noon, I went to ihop with my crew (we called each other the sizecon crew lol) with sviolet, mansquishers, mister finch, Joseph moestar, and strongshadow2018. We had a nice time and I was so grateful for the lunch! Once we headed back to the hotel, we split up to do more con shenanigans. I met so many people, it was amazing. People I already knew and new people as well. It was awesome to match names to faces, it was so cool. I’m telling you though, my mind is not the same so I can’t list out the whole list of everyone I’ve seen. Then I got to see my good friend Steve (Miles Striker). I’m so fucking proud of this dude. He showed me a film he wrote, recorded, and edited all by himself, it was mindblowing. We had to go back downstairs after that because I forgot I had a social to lead and he had panels to go to. I stopped by the giant cafe, that was fucking wild. I ran the Fluffy Feels Social and I did my best because I’ve never ran something like that. But I’m glad we all liked the same thing and we just kept talking! It was getting late to when the Playroom was gonna start, so I headed back upstairs. Chilled a bit more with my crew and then headed back downstairs. I don’t know what got over me, but I gathered enough courage and joined the nude swimming party. I cannot believe I did that, that was a big step for me. Kinda sucked getting out though because I didn’t have extra clothes and it was fucking cold.

Day 4: Sunday 2/16/20

Technically last day of the con but it was the busiest. I spent all morning practicing my skit for the Tiny Cafe. I was nervous and pacing around in my hotel room, making sure I get it right. Around 12:30, I headed down to meet up with the rest of the cafe to get ready when we start at 1 pm. I could not describe how nervous I was. I wanted to make sure I didn’t mess up and I know I was lip syncing (graciously provided by Anoka’s vocals) I was still nervous as fuck. This was a performance and I’m now more confident talking to others about my kink/aesthetics but performing? Oh lawd. We had a big crowd apparently, I was surprised. We had to get more chairs and apparently turn people away? THAT MADE MY NERVES SKYROCKET. The cafe starts with a wonderful performance by Adri (Chibiana) then followed by cute transitions from our servers mini-moo and shortmarcy. Then it’s time for our skit: Veronica (Jitensha), me, and Aim were shrunk and sung songs about our giants. I was first (omg) and mine was in the style of “Maria” from west side story (Veronica called it Shrunken side story). I was shaking like a leaf and tried my best to get through the whole song while doing silly quirks of mine. Once that was done, I rushed back from my spot XD it was Veronica’s turn to sing about a giant dick lol and Aim serenading a giant lady. After our skit, it was the grand finale of Morgana performing a dance in a giant hamster ball. It was incredible. Despite my anxiety, I’m glad I did this and we did so amazing (we made tips!!!!).

Right after that was done, I had to rush to lead a social of Giant men and Tiny women. It was a small turnout but we still got people and we talked a lot. When that was done, I rushed to be on my first panel of the day: Owning what you love. After that was the Macrophile panel and then after that was the Diversity panel. I was on all of them and they were back to back, I was a busy lady lol. After that panel, I was free! Since I made tips from the cafe and I was broke from the hotel, I got to buy a few things in the vendor hall. Was able to say hi to some people I knew like scridam, the reducer, miss kaneda, iamfilledwithstatic, robclassact, and aborigen. It was also mister finch’s birthday so since I was free for the night, I went with the crew to go celebrate at a restaurant. That was such a nice time, I swear everything I did this weekend I wanted to experience again. When we came back to the hotel after dinner (after a quick stop to the liquor store lol), I was able to make it in time for the closing ceremony. Hearing everyone’s words touched my heart and reminded me why I love this community. So I was able to give a speech to say that; this is my second home when I lost my only home when my mom passed. God, that room was filled with so much love. I went back upstairs and hung out more with the crew and watched Promare (pretty sick movie). I was gonna head to bed but I hung out more with Steve and we watched a movie before passing out.

Day 5: Monday 2/17/20

It was time to say all of my goodbyes to everyone that had to leave. I gave so many hugs and love, I just miss them all. Most of the crew had to head out, except for sviolet, she had her flight in the afternoon. So we went out to breakfast at a Mexican restaurant, reminiscing this whole weekend. We came back to the hotel to chill in my hotel room. Morgana and Guiri were leaving to the airport back to Spain and shortmarcy wanted to venture to NYC before she went home the next day. So sviolet and I chilled in my room before she had to head out.

Then for the rest of the evening, I had the room to myself. I watched law and order svu whole packing and double checked I had everything. I waited up for shortmarcy to come back (I was so worried) but she made it back after 10 pm safe and sound. At that point, I had to go to bed because my flight in the morning was at 5:45 am.

Day 6: Tuesday 2/18/20

I woke up at 3 am to get to the airport on time and my Lyft driver I got...I had a feeling he was having a bit of fun by himself before he picked me up. Because it stunk in the car of cum. Whatever, I held in my breath and made it to the airport safely. My flights were on time and I slept on each one. I did not want to go back home.

Back to reality and I hate the after con blues! Especially with how much this con and community means to me.

Hoping there’s a next year and I’m ready to help as usual.

Y’all have a goodnight ❤️

[wutbju]

On September 4, 2018, Bob Jones University separated the men and the women students for the “Chapel Hour.” This was a Chapel service. This was not a class preparing students for job interviews. This was Chapel. 

This is Bob Jones University’s current explanation and justification for their dress code from a Board Member of Bob Jones University Education Group. 

Listen to it. Is this what you want your young adult daughter to learn? Is this how you want her to be connected to her neighbors? By sneering at others’ shoes? By poor-shaming because another person -- a friend, a colleague, a church member, you -- wears something a BJU student judges as not demonstrating “sharpness”? By “taking it up a notch” in her own clothing, not just to land a job, but in some weird, self-righteous contortion that God requires your/her/our stylish representation?

This is not the Gospel. This is not education. This is not professionalism. This is nothing more than Pharisaical judgment. But it’s all Bob Jones University.

Steve Pettit:

This morning we are honored to have speaking in our Chapel Hour, Mrs. Vicki Peek. When we made a dress code change this year where we moved our dress to Business Casual, I wanted to set aside a chapel time to actually bring someone in that I felt like would be the absolute best person to come and speak and really just kind of give a big picture of what we're trying to accomplish here in the matter of our dress code. Obviously dress is important, and we want to do it in a way that we honor the Lord. But at the same time prepare people for the future to do what is appropriate and what is professional.

And so this morning we have Mrs. Vicki Peek. Vicki is the Executive Vice President of Find Great People. Her leadership has been a catalyst in the organization’s sustained growth of over 2500% and in receiving several awards from an Inc 500 Company to a Best Place to Work in South Carolina company. She has led Find Great People to become a nationally recognized, Top 50 Search Firm. She is a certified leadership coach with the Registered Corporate Coach designation.

She is a graduate of Bob Jones University with a degree in Business Education and a Master's degree in Human Resources Development from Clemson University. She was a professor here in the School of Business at BJU before she went to work with Find Great People. She is a pastor's wife. Her husband Stacy is the pastor of Grace Baptist Fellowship. My mind went blank on that one. Sorry. And they serve the Lord together here in town. She is the mother of two children. Both her children graduated from Bob Jones, her daughter Lauren and her son William. And most importantly, she is a brand new grandmother.

And so we are very happy to have Vicki here. She'll come and speak, and I'll finish out our time. Let's give her a warm welcome to Bob Jones.

Vicki Peek:

Thank you, I'm glad we got to the important [Grandchild's Name] introduction. She is five months old.

It's a privilege to be with you today, and I'm glad we get to talk about a topic that is near and dear to my heart. [3:00] Something that for years I've been trained to think about. And now I help others as they go into the business world or any career really or even into the community fully prepared.

As women, we can probably relate to at least one of these scenarios. Shopping weeks and weeks and buying five different outfits to bring home to decide which perfect outfit do we want for that party or that event that we are going to. Packing for a trip and bringing several suitcases with us for a two-day trip because we like options, right? We get that call for an important internship or interview, and we panic because we start looking through our closet and thinking what in the world are we going to wear?

Having one of those mornings where it takes about seven different outfits to finally hit that one thing that works? And by the way, it's a Monday. And then we're walking out of our room or we come down the steps at home, I can't remember, and our roommate says, "You're wearing THAT?" And then the day just gets worse from there.

And then finally seeing someone out and about with something on and you look and you think, "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should."

So being prepared is very, very important. That is my unique background as Dr. Pettit mentioned: I am a wife; I am a mom of a 23 and 24 year old. So we have many of these conversations as they have gone through college years and are preparing into the work force today. He mentioned I'm Nana to [Grandchild's Name], our granddaughter, and I'm a pastor's wife, so interacting not only with our church family but community. Among several non-profits to work with community.

And then I taught here for 17 years in the School of Business. And one little detail: I started here actually in K5. So I went all the way through BJ. And it's just . . . I'm so privileged to continue to be connected to the University. And I appreciate so much the education that I received. That prepared me for who I am today.

And then finally, you know I'm a leader at Find Great People. I've been there 26 years and counting. So that has been a journey that I've grown through the years. And our focus really is on the whole career path whether it be entry level people starting out or executives looking for another job.

So teaching for years, how I did. First of all, but I love your season of life. As college students, you have so much potential. It's great. It's a great time for God to really use this to mold and shape you as your prepare for life. You challenge me, and you're a lot of fun to be around. So it's exciting to see what God is going to do in years to come. [6:16]

And then working in the recruiting industry, every day I find people whether it's the candidates looking to change positions or they are interviewing for that special job. And talking about not only their background and experience but how they present themselves from an appearance perspective.

And then guiding companies of all sizes and industries on making that right choice on the candidate that is that best fit. And then I get a lot of just phone calls from friends or my kids' friends and colleagues to ask advice.

And so this seems to be a daily focus for me, and I do think that it's really important.

So I'm going to share my thoughts. I'm going to share some principles. [7:00] But I really today want to communicate some guiding things. But I trust most of all that you would hear my heart that it would really be a time of expressing what I see but also this is an encouragement for you.

Today I do want you to encourage to think about ... how you would communicate through how you look, your appearance, your dress.

I want to inspire to think bigger than where you are right now. So some of you are Freshmen and you are just starting out, and this journey seems like an eternity. And some of you are months away, you're seniors, and you're either a semester or two away from graduation. And it's definitely on your mind. Just what is that step?

And whether it's going into a career or just into the community and have a huge impact. . .  your life. Maybe it's being in a home or a neighborhood -- it's all important. And then finally, I want to provide some guidance, some basic practical tips that you have probably heard before, but I want to emphasize them as you reflect on just what you choose to wear each day.

Feel free to jot down some notes. I'm going to talk about some Scripture verses and also just some tips throughout. [8:19]

So to begin there's an overall focus that I want to consider, and this is really kind of that overarching theme that everything I say needs to come up under this: and that is that we represent, you represent Someone greater than yourself when we make choices especially about our appearance. 8:41

If you are a follower of Jesus, you are not your own. You have been bought with a price. I Corinthians 6.

We have to conduct ourselves in a manner worthy of the Gospel of Christ. Philippians 1.

We are to adorn, to beautify ourselves with modest apparel. That which is proper, discrete, respectful. I Timothy 2. [9:03]

Present our bodies as a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God. And then be not conformed to this world but be ye transformed. Romans 12.

And then to bring glory to God in all that we do. Whatever we do, whether we eat, whether we drink, whatever we do, do all to the glory of God. I Corinthians 10.

So no matter what the standard is, because there are going to be lots of different standards as you go through life, our main focus really should be on representing God, bringing glory to Him, and presenting ourselves in a way that truly does glorify and honor Him.

I also want to mention that dressing takes intentionality. So as we wake up and we all have choices each day, I would encourage you to be intentional. The way that we dress communicates something.

It's interesting. We make an impression I've seen everything from nanosecond to under ten seconds. But the point is really quickly we make an impression. And probably about 55% or maybe even higher of that impression is non-verbal. I had the opportunity to walk through our lobby a lot. We have a lot of different people sitting in our office waiting to interview with a recruiter. And I don't even engage in any type of hello, I just pass through, and I make a quick impression. Whether we like or not, we create perception about ourselves.

So we always have to be mindful that everything we put on from within is an expression outside. And people gather ... they gain that perspective just by looking at us before we even said hello.

Plan ahead. [11:01]

So think about what you're going to wear. Now I realize that you are in school, classes. The last thing some mornings that you want to do is think about what you're going to wear and dress up. But I do want you to think of some days to at least try this, but you all look great. But this is a training ground for the future. And so whether it be throughout each day but even beyond that, how you think about what we're going to wear, we need to plan ahead and take time to prepare.

Appropriateness is a real thing. So we've come further with appropriate. We roll our eyes maybe and walk away and say, "oh everybody says 'Is that appropriate?'" But it really is a real thing. Each environment has a standard or a guideline. And as you think about events, social gatherings, client meetings, if you're interacting with different customers, all have an appropriate dress standard. We dress up for certain things. We dress down for certain things. We suit up, we become very casual. And that depends on the event and the activity that we are going to engage in. We need to think, "Is this appropriate for where I'm going?"

One rule of thumb that I often encourage is that if the standard is here, go here. You don't want to go here so that you become a little bit of an oddity in that "Wow we're WAY overdressed?" But if the standard is here, go here. We kind of tend as humans to go to the lowest common denominator or just the bottom of what's thought of or appropriate or the guidelines that are required. But I would encourage you to step it up a notch even from what the standard is as you think about what you're going to wear.

Choose appropriate shaped clothing and fit. Follow your intuition. So as you put on clothes, if you don't feel comfortable in them or even that minute of "I'm not so sure about this." There's a reason that you have that prompting. And I would encourage you to follow your intuition.

And then ask others for guidance. Ask them for their opinion. There are many times I know I'm out and about shopping and I try something on and I really, really like it. And I get home and I try it back on, and I'm thinking, "I don't recall that it fit like that when I tried it on in the store. It's a little bit tighter than what I thought." And so if I were to just pause and often ask others. You know, "Is this too tight? Is this too low? Is this appropriate to our work?"

Look sharp. I'll let you define what sharp is. But we all know. When we see people out and about, where is the sharpness of college, whatever word you want to put into that phrase. But just that sharpness? That added attention to detail that really, really makes a difference? And creates an impression that it's not that this is bad and this is, you know, the ONE, but it's sometimes good, better, and best? So take it to that next level and have a sharpness about you. I've seen people in a casual outfits, and they have that sharp look that it really adds to what they've chosen to wear and really provides just a great perception.

Iron your clothes. I know. That is a tough one. I don't love to iron. My husband usually will say as I'm walking out the door, "Don't you need to iron that?" And then I know it's really wrinkled. But definitely iron your clothes. I've had, I've had tons of interviews with people ... and they come in. The shirt was MORE than wrinkled. It was one of those where, you know, the laundry isn't folded at all, and it's still in the basket, wadded up. But it's all about our presentation and how we choose to present ourselves. [15:32]

And then don't let anything be a distraction. Hair. Makeup. The entire look. It's an ensemble. And so think about, when I put on clothes, my outfit, it should never be a distraction. I would say, when I walk out of an interview, if I'm talking about what they chose to wear? That's not a good thing. But if I'm talking about what they are going to, their experience, their potential? That's what you want to convey. For us, even if we're not in a job interview, if people leave us, and they are talking about the joy that we bring, the happiness that we demonstrate, they are not talking about what we choose to wear, I think that's a positive.

Strike a balance. We can become prideful on both sides. We can become prideful saying, "Oh I don't put time and attention into that." On the flip side, we can be prideful saying, "that's all I think about." So I would encourage you to be very balanced in our focus, in your focus, in our perspective.

I want to shift gears for just a quick minute t[o]o and I want to give you some practical guidelines as you think about dress. Again this is nothing earth-shattering, but these are common principles that I think are a value. And I've done a lot of just years of experience but also research. And you start seeing common themes, and then you know, "Okay. I'm on to something." This is definitely concerned by what I see out there.

The University has changed to Business Casual. I think it's fantastic. How does this relate to you? As you go into the work force or, like I said, the community whether it be in the summers or now as you are in the Greenville community or you start to prepare for your career, I would say that the majority of the cultures are Business Casual. So we've gone from everything from professional to business casual to casual. But the majority, I would say, even the accounting firms, the law firms, the banks some of them are still on the professional side. But a lot of them have shifted to Business Casual which is an interesting shift.

So a lot of this is based on industry. A lot of this is based on size. You've got a lot of these start-up companies and they're kinda jeans. That's their culture. You're going to have a lot of different cultures out there that you'll encounter. But I would say that the majority of them are going to be Business Casual.

Most organizations -- 99.9999% -- will have a dress code. So I'm mentioning that because sometimes we become very much in the thinking of "oh this is just the school's rules" or "this is a guideline, and when I get out I don't have to deal with any guidelines." We as an organization are paid by clients all over the United States to actually write guidelines and policies around dress. And so every organization just about is going to have some time of a dress code or dress guidelines. So this is a great time for you all, it's a training ground really to see what is current, what you should wear, within the guidelines which you have here .... But there are times that you can transfer as you get out into the work force.

A lot of places might call it Smart Casual. It's interesting Business Casual. So we go straight to the word "Casual" with the word "Business" in front of it. So it's that combination of that smart professional look with a casual flair as you look at clothing in the determination of that.

So the first thing is: be current. Look at trends. Trends are not bad? Being trendy you can still be modest. You can still be appropriate. But be within the current guidelines of what is out there in the workforce as far as option and be current.

I'm going to talk about the power of shoes. So I know that's not the first thing you'd think that I'd start with. But shoes. A lot of times I'll see a great outfit, and I'll get to the shoes. And it's like "ew." Think about shoes. Now here you're walking all over campus so you don't need to wear heels everywhere. But that's some type of heel if you really want to dress something up. Even if you're dressing very casually, a wedge heel? Some type of small heel. It doesn't need to be really high heel. But you'd be surprised how some small heel will give you confidence as you walk? And it just takes your outfit up a notch. So the power of shoes. I want you to think about that. Don't everybody go buy twelve pairs of shoes....

Invest in quality basics. So I like to stick with neutrals. Blacks. Greys, Navy. Pants or skirts. And/Or skirts. Both are acceptable. Again look at what is current. I recommend looking at places like Banana Republic, Ann Taylor Loft, T. J. Maxx, Old Navy, Marshalls. A lot of them run sales, so if you wait long enough, you'll find some good sales. But also I think those are great resources to see what's current out there. And just buy one or two or three basics. And then add to that a pop color as far as a blouse or a sweater or a jacket and then, of course, jewelry.

Keep hemlines around the knee. And I find there are multiple candidates [?] where I went to in the past where we got to decline not because of their background because of what they chose to wear. Too low in an outfit or too high of a skirt or are really not put together....

When I'm interviewing, I actually like to have people come back two or three times. Anybody can buy that first interview outfit, and it looks amazing. But I love to see what you choose to wear second and third visit because it tells me a lot about you. It also gives me that guidance and that picture of how polished you are. And so, remember that. When you have two or three outfits to wear, you're ready to present yourself in a way. So getting back to representing Christ. [22:50]

Make sure everything is clean and pressed. That it's ironed, as I mentioned. Stick to the essential neutral colors, I mentioned that. And then accent.

Wear makeup, but not too much. So getting back to balance. Definitely makeup. But you don't want so much makeup to where we talk about your makeup. So get that good balance as we look at options out there.

I want to encourage you as you buy clothes to really recognize the importance of how you present yourself. So take time to recognize this is so much bigger than ourselves. This is about God, and this is about representing Him.

Consider this time in college as an amazing time of preparation. Prepare for the workplace. Preparing for the community. Preparing to make a difference. And so really look at this time as an awesome opportunity as you go for four years or one year remaining that you are intentional about that.

And then I want you to think about identifying a role model or a mentor. And I would even encourage you a step further. Find someone in your field that you're going into. And . . .  or look at where you worked in the past, is there a boss that you really respected for their appearance? how they represented themselves? And so identify them. I have several girls who I meet with monthly or every two months. And just to talk about life? But also dress? And appearance? And sometimes we want to grow and develop, but we need that encouragement that it's more than just our skills. Sometimes it's how we care about ourselves.

And yes, that's an incredible offer to lead. I love the mission to learn, to love, and to lead. And here at BJ you have that added benefit of examples all around you. Of faculty and staff that pour their lives into you. And they can be incredible mentors for you as well. But I really challenge you to think of opportunities. Think of this as an opportunity to evaluate where you are today. This does not have to mean I have to have a lot of money to do this. You can go to consignment shops. You can do this very economically. But we put a lot of time and money into other things? And they aren't really as important as sometimes what we do to represent ourselves for Christ. So I would encourage you to evaluate. Ask friends, you know, "What is one thing that you think that I should adjust?" and get that guidance. But most of all represent Christ well.

Thank you.

Steve Pettit:

As we close, I want to say just a couple of key thoughts and actually some things I'm very thankful for. First of all, I'm very thankful for the positive response that we had to the dress code change, and actually your positive example in the fact that you have looked sharp, and I appreciate that. I was actually yesterday, this sounds weird, but I was actually counting how many girls were wearing skirts and pants yesterday. In my walk. That's odd, but you know, I think, I think, two out of three girls were in skirts. I thought, "Well, that'll be interesting what it's going to be like in January. It probably will be a little different.

But I'm going to thank you personally for your positive response, for respecting your appearance, and for the way that you have, if I could say it this way, you made it easy for someone like me to make this kind of change? And you actually go great! This is awesome ... change. It will give you options. And obviously we want to honor the Lord.

So two things as I finish: one is I would encourage you to take some time to look up the Bible verses that actually speak about these matters. So things like I Timothy 2 or I Peter chapter 3 or Proverbs chapter 31. Just take time to think through the things Vicki has stated and also what is the biblical standards for the way that I should be living.

And then finally, if I could summarize my thinking toward the dress code. It is actually simply this: it is learning to live as a Christian within the confines of your own culture. I said this last week that this is the South. And this is not like, this is not like Wyoming or Arizona. So the culture is definitely different, and we get that. But it's learning to live as a Christian reflecting Christ within the framework of your culture and where you live. And it's really that simple. And if we get that and understand that, then I believe we would reflect Christ at least in our appearances and the way we live wherever we go.

So thank you very much. Let's pray and you'll be dismissed.

[wolfythewitch]

“Why did you leave?”

They’re sitting on the deck, facing Mars, brilliant and fiery red. If Juno squinted, he could make out the cyan dome of Hyperion City. The brilliant glow that subtly paints their faces, pinks and scarlet and light.

“I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t be in Hyperion any more.”

Juno curls in on himself, arms hugging himself, knees drawn to his chest. He ain’t sure what time it is, only that it’s a time in which everyone is supposed to be asleep. Silence stalks the ship’s halls.

Nureyev stays silent, flecks of pink on his skin, blue shadows. His eyes are bright. His hands are curled around a steaming mug, and even in a shirt three times too big and pants that hug the soles of his feet, he looks elegant, even when sleep threatens to take him.

Another cup sits by Juno’s side, untouched. He pulls on his sleeves, till only the tips of his fingers peek out.

“I made so many mistakes.” Juno’s voice is small, even to his own ears. He hunched his shoulders even more, trying to take in the warmth he had left in Hyperion City. “Hyperion City. Hell of a place, Nureyev.”

Nureyev sits crossed legged, his tea set down on the floor and his hands clasped on his ankles. “It must have been.” He agrees softly.

“It’s beautiful.” Juno says, he isn’t sure if he’s talking to Nureyev or himself. “The skyline, the view, the brilliant lights at night. A city that could outshine the brightest star.”

“And like a star, it burned.” Juno turns his gaze to Peter, eyes desperate for the man to understand. “It hurts and it warms you. It scorches you until you can’t feel the fire anymore, and then...then you can’t leave.”

“I couldn’t leave because it’s my home. It was my home.” Juno quirks a sad smile. “Guess I left that behind, too.”

“Home isn’t where we come from, Juno.” Nureyev’s voice is heavy. It’s low and rough and nothing like the charming man Juno had seen mere hours ago. “It’s in the people we meet. “In the love—In the love we form and the relationships we make and break.”

“Guess all my relationships are gone then, huh?” Juno thinks of Mick and Sasha, and decides what he said was a lie. “Well, no. There’s still a part of me, Nureyev, in Hyperion City.”

He turns back to the window, Mars now significantly distant in the star-dusted backdrop. “In Oldtown. With Mick and Sasha and Khan. People you’ve probably never met and probably never will. Vicky. Diamond. Mom. Ben.” His voice breaks here, hoarse with memories.

He realizes Nureyev couldn’t possibly know who Benzaiten Steel was, who he could have been. Words spill before he can swallow it down.

“Ben. Benzaiten Steel. He was my brother. He was..he was the best, y’know? The kind that could light up an entire room without trying.” Juno eyes felt wet, and he blinks in surprise. “And he danced. It made him happy and I hated the stupid moves and music and twists when he made me his dance partner, but hell, it made him happy and who am I to deny the one thing that came rarer than rain? He was good, too. Won all kinds of awards, and trophies and medals. All the teachers said it. ‘That boy has potential.’” He laughs bitterly. “And all of it went to waste.”

He looks to Nureyev, forlorn and sad. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you this at God knows what time in the morning. You came for a drink, I’ve probably stalled you long enough.”

Nureyev bites his lip, his drink had been forgotten a long time ago. “I don’t need to leave just yet, Juno.” He pauses. “It must be quite disconcerting, leaving a place in which your whole life, you’ve lived in.”

Juno huffs quietly, “You could say that.”

Nureyev hums, “I’m always here if you’d like to talk.”

“Thanks. Someday, I’ll take you up on that offer. I’ve got a lot of things to explain to you Nureyev. A lot of things to make up for.”

Nureyev doesn’t reply. He didn’t know how to.

“I’m sorry, Nureyev. And that’s not enough, I know it isn’t. I’ll explain everything, just, maybe not now.” And surprisingly, he means it. He isn’t gonna run, or hide, not like before.

Right now, however, he’s just tired.

“Of course, Juno.” Nureyev says, and he hears the request for what it is. Nureyev gets on his feet, cradling the cold mug.

Juno nods, slipping into the quiet reverie he had moments before Nureyev had walked in. A hunched silhouette in the gentle light of space.

“I’m proud of you.” Nureyev says softly, just by the door. “And for the record, I think your brother would be, too.”

It’s a while before Juno realizes the warmth that falls down his cheeks are tears.

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Surprised Parenthood (Is this How Gods Feel?)

Timeline: During the events of PJO 2: Sea of Monsters.

            When Flynn saw the sheepish, goofy grin on Jack’s face, the one he got when he held doors open for her or carried around her battle equipment, she knew whatever came out of his mouth was going to be annoying.

         Monsters and demigods alike where rejoicing over the double win. They roamed the Princess Andromeda’s halls, chatting, pushing each other around, and generally having real camaraderie for the first time. After several discouraging defeats on the Greek side—Flynn refused to use Luke’s phrase of “calculated setbacks”—her troop’s victory in their surprise attack against the Romans came as a morale booster.    

         The set up had been too easy: a dozen Romans on their day off inside a laser tag facility that the Romans didn’t know Flynn had taken over. Luke wanted her to convert the praetor. He figured having someone so high ranking would be useful.

         Luke underestimated one thing: Romans were much more loyal to their legion than the Greeks were to Camp Half-Blood.

         Had one Roman not turned traitor, Flynn was sure the scene would have been a massacre instead of a capture. Most of the Romans got away, but they had gained two valuable pieces: a Roman that the Romans didn’t know had turned spy and a praetor.

         And then Jack’s spectacle of turning Julian’s death into a tournament sent the monsters and demigods into a party mood.

         She had wanted to congratulate Jack as soon as the event was over. He’d been so sweet and corny about getting her flowers, a card, and making her a poem to celebrate her victory. Even if she thought it was dumb, Flynn wanted to get better about supporting his endeavors too.

         Jack had also been quieter the last few times she’d seen him. He got spacey sometimes when his medicine first kicked in, but this seemed different. With anyone else, she’d force them to tell her through charm speak. That was something she swore never to use on him.

All they needed was some alone time. There had been a lot going on with that child of Poseidon and child of Athena sneaking onto the boat with a Cyclops.

First, she needed to find Luke to debrief him on the mission, to see if Lucille really did want to leave the fighting unit after proving herself so capable, to destroy Dr. Thorn for almost impaling Jack during Praetor Julian and Axel the Lion’s fight, and to find the new Roman recruit, Mercedes?, to interrogate her.

         Hours later, she found out that Jack had taken a centaur to go offshore. Flynn dug her nails into her palm. Jack wasn’t allowed off shore on his own. If he got the wrong Disney song stuck in his head, he might accidentally play musical chairs with cancer or kill a whole restaurant.

         When she asked one of the children of Hephaestus if he’d seen Jack, the blond Viking giggled, “Told you we should have put a tracking chip in his bracelet.”

         After thirty minutes of panicked searching with Luke, a centaur ride, and some broken faces later, she and Luke found Jack with that dumb grin.

         His red hair acted as a messy flag amidst a line of Cyclopes, snake women, nymphs, and other nature spirits inside the bright interior of Monster Donut.

         A giant began to protest when she approached Jack, seething about demigods cutting the line. One look at her companion—Luke—and the complaint silenced.

         “Jack,” Flynn and Luke snapped at the same time.

         That’s when she realized Jack wasn’t alone. There was a child holding his hand and another demigod by his side.

         Jack turned, saw them, and gave them an excited wave with the hand holding the child’s. The small thing had to go on its tiptoes to accommodate Jack’s height.

         “Oh! Oh! And that’s Flynn! That’s your new mother!” Jack said so quickly the average person might not have caught his words.

         Flynn stopped in her approach.

         She must have misheard him.

         “No,” Luke muttered.

         “Isn’t she beautiful! Here! You’ll have to meet her—she’s the coolest, and I mean the coolest and most beautiful person in the world! Flynn!”

         Jack went to pick the child up from under the arms. Jack seemed not to realize how heavy the kid was and almost tumbled over. By balancing against a bolted in table, he managed to lift the child, Lion King-style. “Oh, aren’t you a tiny ball of muscle,” Jack choked out.

         With Jack’s gracelessness, Flynn thanked the fates again that Luke agreed Jack shouldn’t go onto the battlefield anytime soon.

         The child went limp, glancing between Flynn and Luke with wide eyes. Flynn didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl. It had one, bright hazel eye and one dark. Its black hair twisted and curled out wildly, a little too short to be a proper female bob, and a little too long to be a messy boy cut. Its skin was pale, with a warm tint that made her think of Central America. It wore a dirty button-down shirt that might have once been red, but looked more like a muddied brown. Based off its height and the soft roundness of its features, Flynn guessed it couldn’t be more than nine or ten years old, too young to have developed any demigod powers.

         She had to give the kid credit: when she leaned down to examine it, the child didn’t flinch away from her face. Most adults couldn’t handle looking at Flynn’s mutilated face. She liked it that way.

         Instead, this tiny one broke into a massive, dimpled grin. “You have beautiful eyes,” it said.

         Jack made a gasping noise. He peeked from around the child’s head to see her reaction.

         Flynn flinched backwards, wondering if Jack had set the child up to that. Only Jack was supposed to talk like that to her.

         “Jack, what is that?” she asked, gesturing towards the child.

         “Our new son,” Jack said, his arms starting to shake. He looked so proud.

         The boy beside them stared skeptically, like he was waiting for Jack’s arms to break off.

         “Dude, we talked about this. You need to tell someone before you leave the ship,” Luke said, brushing off the comment that left Flynn temporarily speechless.  

         Jack’s arms finally gave out, and he set the child down. “I told Clops.”

         “The Cyclops?” Luke said, “You know that doesn’t count. And where did you get—wait—are you the one who won the fight against the praetor?”

         The boy to the side of Jack pulled his shoulders back. His black hair was coarser than the other’s and dangled past his shoulders. There were braids twisted into random locations and a segment behind one ear was shaved. His skin was a rich caramel and his dark eyes darted up to Luke’s with such defiance, she thought he might have been looking for another fight.

         He wore a shirt too big for him, one that must have been an extra band shirt of Jack’s. The praetor’s medals sparkled against the blue material. One of his hands rubbed the lower right medal like it might disappear if he didn’t touch it. Flynn considered warning him that the oils in his fingers were going to rust them.

         Flynn wasn’t sure what country he was from, though guessed somewhere in South America. Other than a pair of ears he hadn’t quite gown into, he might look conventionally attractive if he cleaned up.

         “Yea,” he said, “What’s it to you?”

         Jack paled. “Oh, uh, Axel, this is Luke. He’s the leader of the army. We’re nice to Luke.”

         Axel tilted his head skeptically. “So, you’re like the cult priest or something?”

         Luke’s charming smile twitched. He glanced to the beaming redhead. “Jack… what did you tell our new recruits about us?”

         Jack tilted his head to the side, holding out a hand to list things on his fingers. “That there is absolutely no running by the pools, Tuesdays are Terrific Taco Nights, which I figured they might like since I think they’re both Hispanic—are you Hispanic? I guess I should have asked—”

         Flynn held out a hand for Jack to stop. He trailed off, noticing her frown. The delight in his eyes dimmed to anxiety.

         “What did you call them earlier?” she asked, her tone careful.

         Jack swallowed. “Our sons.”

         The look she gave him must have been intense. The smaller child took half a step behind the bigger one.

         “Oh man…” Luke sighed.

         “Flynn? Jack? Luke?”

         Flynn glanced further down the line. The space between them and the order counter had cleared of customers.

         A frail blonde girl was beckoning them to the counter. Her icy blue eyes shot nervously to Luke and then back to Flynn. “To what do I owe the honor on my first shift?” She gave a curtsey that looked far too delicate in her yellow and pink apron.

         “Lucille!” Jack said. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and shuffled the two boys forward. “We wanted to come see how you were liking the new job!”

         Although Flynn could tell he was trying to hide it, his voice shook. She reached forward to touch his shoulder and found that her hands were shaking too. What was wrong with her?

         She lowered her hand without touching Jack’s shoulder. When she felt Luke’s eyes on her, she scowled at him.

         Luke put his hands up in a defensive gesture and mouthed, “Don’t look at me.”

         He was right: there was no way Luke could have known about this “son” business. He’d been with Flynn the whole time.

         Lucille’s cheeks went rosy with her smile. “We just opened, but we’ve already helped so many monsters. I—” She froze, her eyes trailing back to Flynn. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “It’s a nice change of pace.”

         Axel perked up, looking the girl over. “What is this place?” he asked.

         The frail girl clapped her hands. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new? I’m Lucille.”

         “Axel,” he said and stood up a little taller.

         Flynn wondered if Axel was about to become one of the many boys, Luke included, that were baffled with Lucille’s sweet, biting disinterest. The two looked about the same age.

         “We help monsters here—hold on—Vicky, can you take over?”

         Lucille stepped to the side, letting another associate take over the main line before any monsters began to grumble.

         She fluffed out her apron. “Like their half-mortal children, gods often abandon their monster children. Mortal children usually have at least one parent that can help take care of them. Monsters often don’t. They’re abandoned to starve in the wild.” Lucille frowned, rubbing her wrist.

         Luke snorted. “Yea, leave it to the gods to be the role models for ‘worst parents ever.’”

         Axel and the other child exchanged a glance.

         “That’s awful,” the tiny one said.

         She nodded. “Yes. That’s why we run the Monster Donut shops. They’re charity-based with no strings attached. Monsters don’t need to join Kronos’ army. We just want them to have a safe spot to get a free bite to eat and socialize with each other and friendly demigods.”

         Jack nodded. Although his voice kept light, he kept trembling and wouldn’t make eye contact with Flynn. “We wanted an environment where they could see that not all demigods would try to kill them on sight. It’s kinda hard to undo centuries of the ‘who can kill whom first’ thing.”

         Axel touched his mouth with his fingertips. “That’s a really cool idea,” he begrudgingly admitted. “Who funds it?”

         Luke grinned. “That’s the beauty of these babes. The establishments pop up any time a super powerful monster—in this case a hydra—lends some of its life force to support its brethren. Flynn helped start this one.”

         All eyes turned to her, except Jack’s. Everyone else made it sound so complicated. It hadn’t been.  She was irritated to realize they were waiting for her to fill in an explanation. “Children of Aphrodite have an easier time talking to monsters that can’t speak as well,” Flynn said, “We just had to make sure the hydra was alright with losing a head to release the energy and start this facility.”

         Lucille nodded. “All the materials show up on their own. We just need to bake the donuts and man the register. Now, sweetie, what would you like?”

         She winked at the tiny child.

         Its face lit up as it hopped up and down. “Strawberry-frosted donut with a jelly donut with a—

         “You only get two,” Axel snapped and bopped the little one on the back of the head.

         “Ayeeeee!” it whined and grabbed the black locks.

         Jack crossed his arms. “Hey! Don’t hit your brother!”

         The smaller one stuck out his tongue at the larger one. Axel scowled. They must have actually been brothers based off that interaction, even if they didn’t look related.

         “But, you really can only have two. They can’t run out for the hungry monsters, else they might eat you,” as Jack said the last part, he bopped the tiny one’s button nose. He turned to Axel. “And you?”

         Axel jammed his hands into his pockets, trying to look disinterested. “Chocolate glazed.”

         Jack ruffled his hair.

         Axel swatted his hand away. His face went bright red.

         Lucille giggled. “How about you, Jak-Jak?”

         “A chocolate glazed and… Ajax, what was the other one you wanted?” Jack asked.

         The tiny one hopped again. “Bavarian cream.”

         Luke and Flynn gave their orders as well. Then, Lucille filled a yellow and pink Monster Donut box for them. Before Flynn could grab Jack’s shoulder and see what he was up to, Lucille called Flynn back to the counter.

         Lucille told the other associate she was taking a quick break, hung her apron, and led Flynn to the girl’s restroom. Flynn wondered if this was some kind of trap. The only person she trusted here was Jack, and he could easily be manipulated into doing the wrong thing. Could Lucille use her charm speak on Flynn? The half-sisters had an unspoken agreement not to try it on each other. If Lucille was about to pull something, Flynn would need to come up with a way to disable her, other than charm speak.

         When they got into the stalls, they checked each, one huge, one medium, and one small for the various sizes of monster and demigod customers, to see if they were alone.

         “You sure about your decision to work here?” Flynn asked, deciding Lucille wasn’t up to anything malicious. “You didn’t even celebrate the victory over the Romans.”

         Lucille had been vital in capturing Julian. On her own, Flynn sometimes struggled to get strong-willed people to harm themselves. Although Lucille’s charm speak wasn’t as powerful, without it, Julian might have been able to fight back.

         The frail girl bit her lip, nodding. “Yes—I—change of pace.”

         Flynn scowled.

         Lucille touched her wrist. “I was nervous that you and Luke were here to say I had to come back.”

         Flynn wanted to. Until they got Krios out of Tartarus or Atlas out from under the world, Flynn was stuck leading the Assault and Battery unit. While she liked the unrestrained violence, she hated having others look up to her for encouragement or direction.

         Lucille had come here to help people. Flynn had come here to kill people. It made the monsters respect Flynn more and the demigods trust Lucille. Between Lucille and Luke, Flynn would never need to take a leadership role. Now…

         If Luke wasn’t such a coward about battle, maybe he could lead the damn group on his own.

         “We were just looking for Jack,” Flynn said.

         Lucille gave her a fragile smile. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you remember when we were playing MASH while getting ready for the mission?”

         Flynn considered making Lucille slap herself. Eileithyia, the Goddess of Childbirth, didn’t understand why the girls had wanted to play a game that would predict the future of where someone would live, who they would marry, what their occupation would be, and how many children they would have. Why not just ask an oracle?

         No matter how many times Lou Ellen, a daughter of Hecate, told Eileithyia that not knowing was part of the point, the goddess got confused.

          Lucille put her hands up in a surrender motion. “I swear it’s relevant. I wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise. I respect the oath we took to never speak of it again unless it was important.”

         Both of them glanced around, like Orkus, the God of Oaths, might be lurking in a stall. MASH with demigods was serious business.

         “Jack heard our conversation. He and Matthias had come by to drop off some extra supplies and he brought a gift for you,” Lucille said, like it was a big deal.

         Flynn wished she could charm speak Lucille to the point. “And? I didn’t say anything that he doesn’t already know.”

         Flynn thought the game was stupid and opted out of playing. Then, Lou Ellen, someone who didn’t fear Flynn nearly enough, decided she’d fill Flynn’s MASH out for her. There were no options under marriage. The girls cooed that Flynn had to be with Jack, despite several of them knowing Flynn had whomever she wanted whenever she wanted them.

Jack was just her boyfriend. Though, they all seemed to sense the thing that separated him from the other guys: he was the only one that mattered to Flynn.

She’d gotten “apartment” on housing, “20” on children, and “chainsaw murderer” under occupation. Then Eileithyia had killed the joy for all the other giggling idiots when—

         “It’s not what you said,” Lucille explained gently.

         --Eileithyia said Flynn couldn’t have twenty children because she was infertile. She was too damaged.

         And Lou Ellen pointed out this is exactly why they didn’t play these kinds of games around gods.

         At the time, all Flynn cared about was that everyone had stopped the stupid game and gotten ready for the mission.

         Now, Flynn closed her eyes and exhaled, trying to conjure the audio of one of Nǎinai‘s favorite Huangmei operas to calm herself down. Of course Jack had heard that. Of course he was the one eighteen-year-old that would be thinking about children when we’re at war.

         “Don’t get mad at Jack,” Lucille begged. “He just gets—”

         “Confused,” Flynn ended, hating that word. Even though she’d gone back to visit her grandmother with Jack that weekend, she couldn’t conjure the music. “Damn it, Jack,” she hissed, her fingers curling into a fist. Now, she had to figure out what to do and possibly how to get rid of her two new “sons.”

***

Surprise Adoption: consider this for your loved ones this holiday season.

XD  Thank you for reading;I hope you guys enjoyed! I’ve had a lot of fun figuring out Flynn’s pov. Stay tuned next week to see how she takes to her new babies!

[liddellvxndort-a]

merry christmas, vicky!

@thevalicemultiverse @victorluvsalice

okay, so, i’m definitely not the greatest writer ever, but i wanted to do something for you to show just how much i appreciate you! you and your stories have gotten me through some really rough spots in my life, and without them i wouldn’t be here today. i’m so thankful for you and your kind soul; the fact that you put up with me and my insane headcanons or thread ideas really shows how incredible you are. out of everything that’s happened in my life, you have still remained constant. you continue to welcome me with open arms and kind words, and GOD i can never thank you enough for that. i decided that for this christmas, i wanted to try and write YOU a story that makes you feel just as giddy and happy as your fics SOMETIMES make me feel! (again please keep in mind i am not the best at writing lol! it’s why i’m a theatre major and not an english major XD) SO, here you are! I give you: “Of Cookies and Snowball Fights”!

Light peeks through the curtains and warms Alice’s pale cheeks. Her eyes flutter open, scanning the room as she feels the empty space beside her on the bed. “Victor?” she calls, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head. A deliciously sweet scent floats through the house as she slips out of bed and makes her way down the hall. “Victor?” she repeats, rounding the corner where she finds her fiance in the middle of making cookies. He turns around, rolling up his sleeves with a smile. “Oh! Good morning,” Victor hums, kissing Alice’s forehead. “I thought we could start our day off with something freshly baked.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Alice answers, wrapping her arms around his slender frame. As she rests her head on his chest, her eyes focus on the fresh snow falling onto the windowsill. “Perhaps we could go for a walk afterwards?”

Victor smiles at the suggestion. “Of course! But you should get changed and ready before we make any more plans for the day.”

“Really? I was hoping to go gallivanting through the streets in my nightgown!” she smirks, gently pressing her finger to the tip of his nose. Victor rolls his eyes at the comment, chuckling softly. “Go before I chase you to the wardrobe,” he replies, planting another kiss to Alice’s cheek.

After getting ready and enjoying a lovely breakfast filled with tea and fresh-baked cookies, the young couple makes their way down to the first floor and out onto the freshly covered pavement, hand in hand. The cold air bites at their skin and the wind whips past the two, snow littering their dark hair with white specs. “Lovely weather we’re having,” Victor jests, successfully getting a giggle from Alice. He watches closely as her lips curl into a gentle smile, her cheeks and nose rosy from the snow, and he pulls her closer to him. “That smile never fails to melt my heart,” he gushes, looking down into his fiancee’s eyes.

Alice’s cheeks burn a bit brighter, adding with a playful smirk, “As if it’s difficult to melt your heart! Besides, I’m not sure anything could melt in weather like this, metaphorical or otherwise.”

“Perhaps not without any help. I’m sure one of your Jackbombs would clear some of this up,” Victor comments. He scans his surroundings and he beams at the holiday bustle around him: couples strolling along as they are, children playing in the piles of snow, or gazing through brightly-lit windows at toys waiting for a new home. Suddenly, something hits the back of his neck, interrupting his thoughts. Something cold. Victor quickly runs his hand over the area, feeling ice melt against his glove. Looking down, he notices Alice shaking with laughter and her gloves covered in snow. “You have a five second head start,” he warns, bending down and gathering a ball of snow in his hands with a Cheshire grin.

 Alice yelps, turning and running back towards their home as Victor stands up tall and throws the lump of snow towards her. The snowball lands on the back of her head, and she turns around, jaw dropped and laughing in shock. “Oh, it is on!” she exclaims, snickering as she bends down for more “ammo”. Victor does the same, rushing over to Alice and dropping another snowball onto her. She throws one into his chest in retaliation, continuing to run back to the house. Following closely, Victor drops all the snowballs from his arms and quickly catches up, wrapping Alice tightly in his arms. “No-! I almost made it back!” she laughs, gently hitting his chest and squirming in his grasp.

“You really think you can outrun a six-foot-three adult man, Alice?” he asks, chuckling along with her. Their eyes meet as they catch their breath, hearts racing almost as quickly as their feet were. The laughter dies down, and they stand in silence a few feet from their home before sharing a gentle kiss. A few kids nearby groan and tease them in response, almost like the rabble from Houndsditch did in moments like these, but they don’t pay them any mind. They pull away from each other and instead hold hands the rest of the walk. As they enter and make their way upstairs, Alice and Victor shed their coats, scarves, gloves, and boots before heading into the kitchen for more tea and cookies. “And I won that snowball fight, just so you know,” Alice declares between bites of her pastry, getting a laugh out of Victor.

“You wish,” he teases back, sipping from his cup of tea.

[une-femme-de-lettres]

We Are Young (Part 1)

Summary: Grâce is a young witch that already prove herself to be an excellent student of Hogwarts. This year though, some things might change as her little sister, in turn, enters the school of wizardry.

Characters: Female!Original Character(s), Young!Sirius Black, Young!James Potter, Young!Remus Lupin

Parings: Female! OC x Young! Sirius Black

Word count: 1780

A/N: Hi there! So this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction. I thought I’d never write it, or write again for that matter, but here we go, this fandom gave me the inspiration to get back into reading and writing. I’ll try and keep writing chapters as long as I can and I really hope you’ll enjoy this!

Another quick note before we begin, the name of the main character is Grâce (I spell it the French way) but it can is pronounced by most of the other characters like the name ‘Grace’. Let me know if you would like for me to get rid of the accent on the ‘â’ for reading comfort.

Let’s get started now!

                                                      *****

“But what if I’m not sorted into Ravenclaw, I will never see you again…”

Grâce took her bag off of the luggage rack and put it down on the padded seat before looking down to find her sister’s eyes. They were full of apprehension, her brain storming with bad thoughts, anticipating her sorting. It was her first year in Hogwarts and started preparing for it as soon as she got her letter, excited by the start of this new step of her life. That was until excitement was replaced with doubt and concern.

“Stop worrying so much, everything will be fine,” Grâce said, trying in vain to help her sister calm down, “Besides, we can still see each other even if we’re not in the same house,” she added, “we can meet at breakfast and lunch, and on breaks too…” she explained, pulling two long black robes out of the bag.

“But everyone in the family was a Ravenclaw, what if I’m different…?” Her sister said, shifting her position on the seat to kneel on it, facing the back and turning her head to look into Grâce’s eyes.

“Not everyone,” Grâce corrected, “Grandma was a Gryffindor, remember, and a proud one at that,” she stated, giving her sister a nod. The latter sat properly again, looking a little upset.

Grâce was right, but still, she wanted to be in Ravenclaw. Almost every member of their family that attended Hogwarts was sorted into Ravenclaw, a lot of them excelled in school. The past year, Grâce achieved all her O.W.L.s, she was so skilled in Arithmancy, Divination, Potions, Herbology and many other subjects and fields, including Quidditch, being part of the team since her third year. She would be expected to do as well as her older sister. At least that’s how she saw it, and she would hate to be a disappointment to her family.

“Come on, you should put on your robes, we’ll be there soon,” Grâce interrupted her sister’s train of thought, gently nudging her arm with the hand that held the robes. The girl took them and proceeded to put them on. Grâce sat down again, unfolding her own garment.

“But what if I’m in Slytherin…?” She asked quietly, taking a quick look at the boy sitting across from them, on the other seat. Grâce mechanically turned her head to find the student, already in his black and green robes, the Slytherin emblem on his chest. He was reading Libiatus Borage’s book of Advanced Potion-Making, a book that Grâce herself had to buy this year, and seemed absorbed in his reading.

To her surprise, the boy looked up from his book, and Grâce’s look briefly met his black eyes, peeking through equally dark stands of hair. She quickly looked away though, scolding herself for being so intruding and impolite. She came around quickly and looked at her sister again. Reaching out to arrange the fastening of her robes.

“Well, then you’ll still be an excellent witch, except you’ll be wearing green,” she simply said, playfully poking her sister’s nose with her finger.

Grâce looked over at the boy again, just to make sure she didn’t upset him too much, but he was still reading in silence. After she quickly slid on her own robes, she sat back and turned her head to the window, letting her eyes wander to the slow-moving mountains, still slightly visible in the light of the setting sun, her ears filling with the metallic clatter of the train zooming along the railroad as everyone in the compartment stayed silent.

Later when the train reached Hogsmeade station, Grâce guided her sister out of the compartment, making sure she didn’t forget anything, and out of the train, leaving the dark-haired boy behind without a word.

As soon as they stepped onto the platform, a loud and hoarse voice reached their ears. “First years! This way please,” the voice said and Grâce turned her head to see Hagrid standing at the end of the platform, a lantern in hand. “Come on, don’t be shy…” he said playfully.

Grâce turned to her sister who looked back, concerned, expecting her to confirm what the man said. “This is Hagrid, he’ll take you all to the castle,” Grâce announced with a gentle voice, her sister didn’t move. “Come on, off you go…” she said, gesturing her to make her way to the end of the platform. “I’ll see you later in the great hall,” she then explained with a nod, and the girl was off to join the other first year students.

Grâce’s lips bent into a small smile as she watched her sister walk away, her robes swirling slightly with each step in the gentle wind. She remembered her first year, she remembered walking along the train to join the crowd. She remembered the excitement and the amazement when she first saw the stone castle, its thousands of lights standing out in the dark of night and reflecting on the surface of the lake. With this in mind, she turned the other way and started walking towards the carriages, hoping to catch one before they were all gone.

                                                     *****

“Edward Doyle.” Professor McGonagall’s voice resonated within the great hall as she called another student. Grâce watched the boy walk towards the stool and sit down. McGonagall put the old hat on his head and it came to life instantly.

It frowned in deep thought, taking a few seconds before answering, searching for a suitable house for the boy, “Slytherin!” it then declared as a round of applause went up among the students. Grâce briefly turned towards the table of the Slytherin house, her eyes immediately finding the dark-haired boy, he was the only one to barely applause, his face neutral, the slight movement of his hands making the sleeves of his robes brush back and forth over the book that was set beside his plate, the same book she saw him read back in the train.

“Victoire De Beaumont,” McGonagall called, looking away from the parchment she held in her right hand. Grâce was pulled out of her thoughts as she felt a slight pinch in the heart when she heard her sister’s name. She turned slightly on her seat to get a better look at what was happening a few feet away, at the head of the great hall.

Victoire slowly made her way to the stool, briefly looking back at Grâce as she nodded with a smile, encouraging her to go. The professor gently put the hat on her head and waited for it to start talking.  

“Aaah, I see, you want to prove your worth, don’t you…” Victoire bit her bottom lip slightly, her eyes finding Grâce’s. “And you have quite a few skills already, you might fit in Slytherin,” the girl’s heartbeat quickened suddenly. “But… I see something more here, don’t I…” she looked up, waiting for its final decision, silently pleading to be sorted into Ravenclaw, where she could stay with her sister. “Well then, that’ll be… Gryffindor!”

Surprise and excitement washed over Grâce as students of every table applauded at the same time, the Gryffindor one being the loudest, of course. Grâce applauded too, and smiled to her sister who seemed to join her housemates with a bitter-sweet smile on her face.

After all the new students were sorted, Dumbledore summoned the food for the feast and wished everyone a good appetite. The first year students were all amazed by the sudden appearance of the food but Grâce didn’t pay attention to it as she looked around to find where her sister was seated. Luckily, she was almost right behind her, only a few feet closer to the head of the hall.

Grâce sneakily got up from the bench and quickly crossed the space left between the Ravenclaw table and the Gryffindor one. She approached her sister and crouched beside her, taking her hands in hers. “Hey, Vicky, don’t be upset, you’ll do great in Gryffindor, I promise…” she said quietly, so that only her could hear. Victoire gave her a smile. “You’ll make a lot of friends, you’ll see,” she added, nearly interrupted by another voice coming from the other side of the table.

“That’s quite alright, Victoire, we Gryffindors are friends with everyone,” the boy said with an enthusiastic voice, “Except with Slytherins, they can’t be trusted,” he added mockingly.

Grâce got up and looked at the boy as he laughed with his friends. “Oh shut up Potter,” she said, rolling her eyes slightly. James Potter made a hobby out of despising Slytherins, as well as generally getting on people’s nerves. Grâce hardly came across him during her past few years in Hogwarts, except on Quidditch events, but she knew him from reputation, he and his three friends.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Vic, we’re here if you ever need anything,” he said with a more serious tone that Grâce rarely heard coming from him. “We’re all friends here,” he announced, stretching the word ‘all’, giving Grâce an insisting look that made her roll her eyes. Good words and noble promises… She smirked slightly.

“Alright, then I’ll hold you accountable if anything happens to her, Potter,” Grâce said and James looked confused and ready to talk back. For an instant she thought she beat him at his own game. She might have…

“It would be an honor to be of use, My Lady…” the boy next to James said, patting his friend’s shoulder. She looked over at her new interlocutor and pulled a fake smile.

“Don’t be cocky, now, Black…” she said with a tilt of the head. The very few times she saw him, he had made a habit of sarcastically mocking her. This time was no exception, and she responded as usual. Ending the conversation with them, she turned to Victoire again, gently tucking a stand of blond hair behind her small ear. “I’ll see you later, Mon Cœur,” she added quietly before addressing James with a monotone voice, “see you later on the field.”

She went back to her table without another word and as soon as she turned her back, a sly smile played on Remus’ face. “See you later in class…” he corrected and his friends looked delighted. As a matter of fact, Remus had already had a look at the class schedule. N.E.W.T.-level classes involved students of all houses, as long as they met the requirements. And he knew he and his friends were taking a lot of the same classes as Grâce did. Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration…

Oh the Marauders would get to have fun again this year.

                                                     *****

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it, please consider leaving feedback to let me know if you would want to read part 2!