#a flea just bit my foot

[pinkanonwrites]

Leona getting locked out of his dorm on a rainy day or Ultra Magnus reprimanding Rodimus for his seventh missing report that was due orns ago

I went with Leona getting locked out of his room on a rainy day because, well, it was really funny to me!

"I'm home!.....? Hi, 'boyfriend who doesn't live here.'"

Leona lifted his head up from the living room sofa, blinking sleepily at you. You forced the front door shut with your foot, shifting your weight to heft the grocery bags further up your hips and keep everything from crashing to the floor.

"Put those on the kitchen table, Ruggie'll take care of them."

"And why, pray tell, is Ruggie also in my house?"

"Who do you think picked the lock?"

"Touché." Making your way to the kitchen, you found Ruggie standing in front of your stove, wearing your apron, frying your fancy ham that you bought only for your favorite sandwiches. He perked up as you entered, nearly pouncing upon your groceries the moment you set them down.

"Finally! Yer out of eggs, y'know."

"Hey 'boyfriend's gofer who also doesn't live here.' What the hell are you two doing in Ramshackle? And why are you eating my food?"

"Relaaaaax! Just ask Leona about it, he'll pay you back." He seamlessly cracked two eggs in one hand, dropping them into a second pan on the stovetop and chucking the shells in the trash. "One of the first-years went home for winter break, and his little sister had..." Ruggie paused, a visible shudder crawling up his spine. "Fleas. Brought 'em back on accident, so now we gotta evac while the profs' smoke 'em out. Just be thankful we didn't bring half of the dorm with us. Leona wanted his 'beauty rest.'"

You made a sympathetic, yet disgusted noise in the back of your throat. "Bummer. Where's Jack?"

"Bunking with Epel for a bit. Apparently Vil already went over him with a fine-toothed comb."

You snorted at the mental image of Vil manhandling the first-year into a medicated bath. "Alright, you better make enough for four though. Maybe five, considering Grim and Leona's appetites. I'm gonna start on my homework."

"Save it." You startled as Leona appeared silently behind you, draping his weight across your shoulders. "I've had a long day. Too long. Need my stress ball for a bit." He gave you a warning squeeze.

"Am I your stress ball or your body pillow?"

"Gross."

"Zip it, Ruggie." Leona muttered, already dragging you away back to the sofa.

'Wait! Let me at least get my textbook first! Leona!"

"Well shit, looks like gravity is increasing on me. We may not even make it back. Guess we just gotta lay here."

"LEONA!"

[f14fun]

dc it-girl (mv1) - chapter 1

synopsis: in which case y/n, an it-girl that hails from the united state's capital, washington dc, meets max verstappen in an unexpected occurence at the redbull showrun in her home city. both not knowing each other, immediately find themselves in a once-in-a-lifetime love story.

general info: !fem!poc!black-reader x mv1 faceclaim: asia monet ray + other girls from pinterest/insta!

smau + prose (3.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

things to note: yes, in this story i am changing the characters for a bit, i know that david coulthard was driving, but in this case we can pretend that that was max. also, he will be in dc for a publicity event for a week. please let me know if there is anything else you need me to clarify. happy reading! 💙📖💭

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername

liked by florence.jwilliams, user1 and 119,012 others

yourusername: bad gyals thrive in dc

view comments:

florence.jwilliams: babes we looked so hot today xx

yourusername: i knowww, but i was dying like a bitch in the heat 🙄🙄

florence.jwilliams: might visit somewhere cold this summer j to get away from the sun tbh 😭

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

Florence was always looking for shit.

She was always looking for shit for us to do, places to go, food to eat, but sometimes, it was a lot.

Like today. Although it was only the nineteenth of April, the sun was blaring down on the little city of D.C. (namely, the District of Columbia, for all of you non-natives) like an absolute bitch. And I, immune to alcohol poisoning, foot fungus, and slightly-immune to bad breath, was not absolutely not immune to the wrathful rays of the sun.

Zilch. Nada.

So when I originally left the house in a cardigan, I immediately went back in to change into a tank top and jorts. It was hot. I was hot. And Florence wanted to spend the whole day walking around the city doing God knows what.

That's how we ended up stumbling across a parade.

Every know and then when I would visit D.C., I would sometimes almost accidentally show up right in time for an event. Sometimes I happened to love the event, other times, I sometimes left, queasy, dizzy, and claustrophobic.

I wasn't sure what to make out of today's event.

At first, when looking from an outsider's perspective, it seemed as if I had walked into one large, large, cult meeting. Oh no.

Every one was adorned in shapes of navy, cheering, screaming, and worse of them all, holding a goddamn can of RedBull's Energy drink.

The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and caffeine, a cocktail potent enough to keep even the most exhausted of souls awake for days.

Banners fluttered wildly in the hands of fervent fans, each emblazoned with logos and slogans that screamed allegiance.

Vendors weaved through the throng, hawking more cans of the ubiquitous energy drink, their cries barely audible over the din.

Occasionally, a shower of confetti would rain down, sticking to the sweat-drenched skin of the masses, creating a mosaic of glittering chaos. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the raw energy of thousands of voices united in a singular, frenzied purpose.

Ew.

RedBull being one of my least favorite sodas (can you even call something you vehemently dislike a favorite at this point?) already made me additionally pissy.

So when Florence and I had just arrived at D.C. and walked towards Pennsylvania Avenue, it was too late for us to realize that the event was actually ending, and the crowd was dispersing.

Even as a girl who hails from the city, I do get quite nervous and claustrophobic around too many people. So to my utter horror, people from the flood of the RedBull cult were heading straight towards us, scattering like a pack of fleas.

Too late.

I had lost my tight grip (I swear I was holding on to her hand super duper tightly!) on Florence's hand, and we ended up getting separated from each other. Calling her name would be no use in this throng of people.

My heart pounded in my chest as I desperately scanned the sea of navy shapes, each person indistinguishable from the next in the dimming light.

Panic set in, and I could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat on the back of my neck. I tried to push my way through the crowd, but it felt like swimming against a relentless tide. People brushed past me, some nearly knocking me over in their haste to leave.

The overwhelming noise of their chatter, laughter, and the occasional burp of a RedBull can opening filled the air, making it impossible to concentrate.

It was gross. It was disgusting. I was disgusted.

I spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Florence’s distinctive red scarf, but all I saw were faceless masses. My phone! I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling as I tried to pull it out without dropping it. Just as I managed to get a hold of it, someone bumped into me, and the phone slipped from my grasp, landing with a sickening thud on the pavement.

“Dammit!” I muttered under my breath, crouching down to retrieve it, praying it wasn’t shattered. As I picked it up, I glanced around again, my heart sinking. Florence was nowhere to be seen.

In this crowd of sickeningly electric people over an energy drink, I was dead. Six feet under. Tired, and I had just gotten to D.C..

I looked around in despair, realizing that I must have walked a few blocks without even noticing, my mind too frazzled by the chaos and my separation from Florence.

My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, my lifeline in this moment of utter confusion. I tried to call Florence, but there was no signal. "Damn this shitty data!" I cursed under my breath, feeling my frustration bubble over. The crowd seemed to close in around me, their excited chatter and laughter a stark contrast to my growing panic.

My fingers tapped frantically at the screen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, a bar of signal would appear and rescue me from this nightmare. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, the kind that starts as a dull throb and quickly escalates into a pounding, relentless pain.

The one goddamn day I had left the house without my morning coffee and this shit decided to happen to me...

In a desperate attempt, I switched my phone to airplane mode and back again, praying for a miracle. But nothing changed. The crowd jostled me from all sides, pushing and pulling like a relentless tide, each shove adding to my rising sense of helplessness.

I glanced around, trying to find a familiar landmark or a quieter spot to regroup, but all I saw were waves of navy shapes and faces blurred by motion and anxiety.

"Florence!" I shouted again, my voice barely carrying above the din. The energy drink-fueled chaos was suffocating, a cacophony of noise and movement that seemed designed to disorient and overwhelm. I caught sight of a bench a few feet away and made a beeline for it, hoping to gain some semblance of stability.

I was in a twisted, sick, alternative fever dream where my nightmare fuel was in fact RedBull™, ha ha ha.

Whatever, I could probably find her somewhere around the city, I mean, it wasn't that big...right?

So there I was, in D.C., by myself. Not like I wanted to go in the first place that morning, but whatever.

Lost in thought, I was just wandering around, not really concentrating on anything in particular. Horrible city instincts, might I add. Because of my absentmindedness, I clearly did not notice when I walked into someone.

More like someone's RedBull drink walked into me.

I could not escape the nightmare fuel fever dream RedBull™ agenda, couldn't I.

Now I was extremely pissed off. The icy liquid soaked through my shirt, a cold shock that made me gasp and snap back to reality.

Looking up, I was two milliseconds away from berating whoever spilled this devil-drink all over me. But my harsh words died on the tip of my tongue the very instant that I looked up.

I was looking at a man. But not just any regular man. An extremely handsome man.

His startling icy turquoise eyes connected with mine. His stubble, a little overgrown, looked so hot. His mousy, brown touseled hair gave him a nonchalant yet strangely put-together look, and I was all in for it. And I, a girl who never stops talking, I was rendered speechless.

From the first glance, everything about him seemed perfect.

Except for the fact that he just spilled RedBull all over my white tank top and he was even wearing RedBull merch, from head to toe. Like who does that? What fashion choices...

He gave me a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice smooth and sincere. "I didn't see you there." His soft, European (?) accent lulled me to silence in an instance.

I wanted to be mad, I really did, but his charm was disarming. "It's fine," I managed to say, trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. "Accidents happen."

"Let me help you," he offered, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Kleenex tissues. He reached out towards me, seemingly wanting to put his hands on my shirt.

"Oh, oh, that's okay," I said, freaking out internally. If this handsome European man touched me that close to my boobs I might just have to propose to him that very instant.

"No, no, no, I insist," he said, his accent getting thicker, clearly not understanding my drift. He was too handsome to be doing this shit, I swear.

He came closer towards me, and I instinctively backed up a bit more. Not catching my drift (once again), he took a larger stride towards me. I, unprepared for this wild encounter, didn't step backwards in time, so the sexy European man in all of his glory, collided into me.

And down we went.

It must've been a funny sight to see from the average passerby. Them just minding their business. Maybe walking their dog. Or perhaps getting a morning lattee.

Bam.

Lying in the middle of the street are two people. Just there.

I would've hit my head on the pavement and probably cracked my scull wide open if not for the RedBull man. He had cradled one arm around my head, the other wrapped tightly around my waist. I think (?) he was helping me to try to stop the fall.

To no avail, we still fell.

What he disregarded, though, was when he tried to stop the fall, was the reason why we were falling in the first place. As grabbed my head as we fell, he also let go of the RedBull can. So now, free in the wind and open towards the chaos of the District of Columbia, the RedBull can fell.

Fell where? You may ask. It fell over us. It fell everywhere. The sticky, icky drink splattered across both of our faces, its cold, sugary droplets clinging to our skin like a caffeinated rain shower. The can, released from his grasp, seemed to defy gravity for a split second, twisting in the air before gravity's inevitable pull sent it crashing down.

The can hit the ground with a soft thud, its contents erupting in a fizzy explosion of energy. The liquid sprayed outward in all directions, catching us both off guard.

Streams of RedBull arced through the air, some landing on nearby pedestrians who stared in disbelief, while others formed tiny puddles on the sidewalk, reflecting the cloudy yet impeccably humid D.C. sky above.

For a moment, him and I laid on top of each other (weird and freaky, I know), frozen in a tableau of absurdity, our faces now adorned with streaks of sticky red liquid.

A passerby, caught in the crossfire, chuckled as they hurried past, muttering something about needing to wash their dog now. It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy, and despite my initial shock and embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

And you may think, oh wow, that is horrible. That must hurt. Your joints, your back, your legs. And to that I say, yes, yes, and very much absolutely yes.

The very sexy (slightly less sexy, now that we were mangled on the disgusting sidewalk) European man was laying on me with all his bodyweight, and it very much hurt.

To make matters worse, our faces collided. You ask, where did your faces specifically collide?

Our lips. Our lips collided, and they touched.

And me like the dumbass I am, when I see a face coming towards mine unexpectedly, eyes closed, and especially a face who's male.... I puckered up.

Yes, I was stupid.

Now, I was on the floor, sticky, and kissing a stranger.

Out of context, that sounds like a funny and strange sentence. But this whole scenario in the first place was out of context, so bear with me. I mean, how often do you end up on the ground, covered in energy drink, and accidentally kissing a stranger in the middle of the day?

It was like something out of a quirky rom-com (okay, more like the evil-twisted beginning to one of those abduction horror stories grown-ups tell you when you are a kid), except I never imagined I'd be the protagonist.

But in that split second, with the taste of RedBull lingering on our lips and the chaos of the city swirling around us, there was an inexplicable spark. It wasn't just the caffeine rush; it was a moment of shared laughter and unexpected connection amidst the sticky mess.

In this moment, I was either going to die because he was about to kidnap me, or sheerly die out of embarrassment. Or, I would will myself to die, this was not happening to me.

He pulled back, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked, his accent making his words sound even more sincere.

I tried to laugh it off, but the awkwardness of the situation was hard to shake. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… sticky." I wiped at my face, feeling the sugary residue cling to my skin.

He helped me to my feet, brushing off his clothes with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to… I mean, that was not… you know," he stammered, clearly flustered.

"It's okay," I reassured him, despite feeling mortified myself. "Really, it's fine. Just a little... unexpected."

He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. He winced, as he realized that his fingers as well as his hair smelled like RedBull. "Well, this is definitely not how I imagined meeting someone today."

"Me neither," I admitted, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and amusement. "But hey, at least it's a memorable encounter."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess this is one way to make an impression. I'm Max, by the way. Professional RedBull spiller and accidental kisser."

I laughed, the tension easing. "Nice to meet you, Max. I'm Y/N. Apparently, I'm your victim for today."

"Victim? More like an unsuspecting hero," he replied with a playful grin. "Seriously, though, I'm really sorry about all this. Can I at least buy you a coffee to make up for it?"

"Well, considering you saved me from cracking my skull open, I think I can let you off the hook," I said, trying to sound casual while still feeling a bit flustered. "And coffee sounds good."

"Great! I know a place just around the corner. And I promise, no more RedBull," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. (Yeah, the biggest lie I was ever told. Do not trust sexy men, they are all liars)

As we walked towards the café, the awkwardness of our first meeting began to fade into a shared sense of humor about the absurdity of the situation. Max continued to apologize, making light-hearted comments about his job with RedBull and his less-than-perfect coordination skills.

"You know," Max started with a grin, "I guess I should add 'professional accidental kisser' to my resume now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not sure how many job openings there are for that, but you'd definitely stand out."

"Well, it's all about making a memorable first impression, right?" Max replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Definitely memorable," I agreed, taking a playful jab. "Though next time, maybe aim for something less sticky?"

Max feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, it's not every day you get to meet someone while wearing your finest RedBull cologne."

"I have to admit," I said with a smirk, "you wear it well."

Max chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Hey, it's an acquired scent. You'll get used to it."

"And here I thought coffee was supposed to be the only thing brewing today," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Who says we can't have a double shot of excitement?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful flirtation, feeling myself relax even more in his company. "Well, as long as it doesn't involve any more airborne beverages, I'm all in."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy our little RedBull shower?"

"Let's just say I prefer my caffeine in a cup," I replied with a grin, sipping my coffee and meeting his gaze over the rim. "So, Max, what other talents do you have besides professional beverage mishaps?"

He leaned back, pretending to ponder the question seriously. "Well, I can juggle three balls at once. And I'm pretty good at making people laugh, unintentionally, most of the time."

"I can see that," I said, laughing softly. "You've definitely brightened up my day, unintentionally." Continuing, I said, "I was lost in that throng, no, no, no, cult of people wearing RedBull on Penn Ave. It was absolutely horrible, never again."

He guffawed loudly, so loudly, at my slightly funny joke, I for a second, thought that there was an underlying joke in my statement that I had not caught (spoiler alert, there was).

Max guffawed loudly, his laughter infectious. "Oh, I'm sorry," he managed between chuckles, "but you have to admit, it makes for a great story."

"You find this funny?" I asked, feigning offense while trying not to laugh myself. "I was traumatized by energy drink enthusiasts!"

"Hey, at least you made it out alive," Max quipped, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "And here you are, sharing your harrowing tale with a fellow survivor."

"Survivor?" I raised an eyebrow, pretending to assess him critically. "Or secret admirer of RedBull?"

Max shrugged, his smile mischievous. "Maybe a bit of both. It's an acquired taste, you know."

"You are just saying that as a cult member, I can't really trust what you say still. I am so sorry, but you could not pay me to drink that can of dog piss," I jokingly rolled my eyes.

Max burst into laughter, his amusement filling the air around us. "Dog piss? That's a new one! Trust me, I'm not here to convert you," he said, grinning widely. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll be here with a fresh can and an open mind."

"Hmmm... okay," I reluctantly said. (Yeah, fat chance you would get me to drink RedBull willingly)

"That only made him laugh louder. "So I've heard," Max replied with a grin, clearly taking my comment in good humor.

I chuckled, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn't offended by my playful jab. "I mean, it takes confidence to rock the RedBull look from head to toe," I added, trying to soften my teasing with a smile.

"Exactly!" Max exclaimed, his laughter subsiding into a grin. "You've got to commit to the brand, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, nodding. "I have to hand it to you, though. Not many people can pull off such a bold fashion statement."

"Well, thank you," Max said, his tone light and playful. "I guess you could say I'm all about making a statement."

"I can see that," I replied, unable to resist teasing him a bit more. "I suppose next time we meet, I should wear something equally attention-grabbing to match your style."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Please do. It'll make for an even more interesting encounter."

Everytime he spoke, he made direct eye contact with me. It was so sexy and seductive, and I don't even think that Max knew what he was doing was hella attractive.

I, not immune to anything today I guess, fell hard for a stranger that I had just met.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername posted on her story

📍washington dc 🎵 see you again (ft. kali uchis) - tyler the creator

view replies

florence.jwilliams: girl we got separated and first thing you do is be big backed??? be so fr... where are u

yourusername: on a date! 😁

florence.jwilliams: oh!-

florence.jwilliams: don't be selfish and bring me back a iced coffee w almond milk and a croissant pls.

yourusername: croissant 👌🏾, beverage 👎🏾, i've had enuf of beverages and spilling today. 😭

florence.jwilliams: oop, tea

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: a little short but sweet! ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 part two will be out sometime within the next two weeks, comment if you want to be added to the taglist! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[novaursa]

The Games We Play (adamant)

- Summary: The dragon catches Otto’s attention, and he decides to charm you.

- Paring: targ!reader/Otto Hightower

- Note: There will be one more part posted that will conclude this story.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: simple things

- Next part: checkmate

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Alicent stood in the middle of her father’s chambers in the Tower of the Hand, arms crossed and tapping her foot impatiently. She’d spent half the night worrying and the other half trying to convince herself that Otto Hightower—the most dutiful, straight-laced man in all of Westeros—wouldn’t have done anything truly reckless.

When the door creaked open, she straightened, her eyes narrowing as her father entered. The sight of him was… unexpected, to say the least. His normally immaculate cloak was rumpled and his hair slightly out of place.

“Father,” she began, her voice a mixture of disbelief and worry. “Where were you last night?”

Otto paused, clearly caught off guard by her presence, though he quickly recovered, attempting to straighten his cloak and look dignified. “Alicent. Good morning.”

Alicent raised an eyebrow, taking in his disheveled appearance. “It���s nearly noon, Father. And… well, look at you!”

Otto cleared his throat, doing his best to appear composed. “I assure you, Alicent, I was simply… engaged in matters of importance.”

Alicent’s eyes narrowed, disbelief clear on her face. “Matters of importance? You mean the matters that left your cloak rumpled, your face exhausted, and your hair looking as if it’s been through a storm?”

Otto’s lips pressed into a thin line as he brushed a hand over his hair, attempting to smooth it down with little success. “The princess requested my company, and we ventured into the city,” he said, as if this were a perfectly normal occurrence.

Alicent blinked, momentarily speechless. “You went into King’s Landing? With Y/N? At night?” She stared at him as if he’d just announced he’d taken up fire-dancing.

“Yes, well, the princess was keen on exploring Flea Bottom,” he replied with a small cough, trying to downplay the whole ordeal. “She… appreciates my company.”

Alicent’s eyes widened in pure disbelief. “And you… agreed?”

Otto hesitated, then nodded, his tone almost defensive. “She seemed intent on going, with or without my guidance. I thought it best to… accompany her.”

Alicent placed a hand on her forehead, letting out a sigh. “So you thought the best thing to do was to traipse around Flea Bottom with her like a pair of commoners?”

“Traipse is a strong word,” Otto muttered, his cheeks coloring faintly. “I was merely… keeping her safe.”

Alicent shook her head, looking him up and down. “Keeping her safe? You look as though you barely kept yourself together. Father, you have a smudge of—” she reached forward, dabbing at a faint mark on his collar, which only seemed to make the smudge worse.

Otto cleared his throat, a bit flustered. “Yes, well, Flea Bottom isn’t exactly the cleanest part of the city.”

Alicent pulled back, eyeing him skeptically. “And yet, you… went with her. Why? I’ve never known you to indulge in any of her wild ideas.”

Otto straightened, a hint of pride creeping into his expression. “The princess deserves someone who will respect her wishes and support her interests. Even if they’re… unconventional.”

Alicent raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Unconventional? Father, this sounds more like you were… what’s the word…” She glanced to the ceiling, searching for the right term before it hit her. “Chasing after her.”

Otto stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “I am the Hand of the King, not some lovesick boy, Alicent.”

But Alicent’s amused smile said otherwise. “Oh, forgive me, Father, but I never expected to see you losing sleep and wandering the city just because Princess Y/N thought it’d be fun.”

Otto looked away, clearly uncomfortable but unable to deny her words. “I simply… wanted to ensure her safety,” he insisted, though even he seemed a bit uncertain as he said it.

Alicent let out a sigh, though there was a hint of fondness in her exasperation. “Well, just… try not to make it a habit, Father. Flea Bottom might survive one night of you, but I doubt the city’s ready for the Hand to become a regular.”

Otto gave her a tight-lipped smile, his dignity barely intact. “Noted, Alicent.”

As she watched him try to brush the soot from his collar, she couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Just… promise me you’ll be careful. And maybe, next time, find a way to keep your cloak in one piece?”

Otto nodded, though there was a slight gleam in his eye. “I appreciate your concern, Alicent. Truly.”

Alicent smirked, turning to leave. “Of course, Father. After all, I’m not sure the council would survive another meeting with you looking like… that.”

Otto’s sigh followed her out, though this time, it was tinged with a reluctant smile.

Later that day, after Otto had finally managed to get some sleep and restore a fraction of his usual composure, he spotted you in one of the courtyards, chatting animatedly with your brother, Viserys. The king was listening to you with a fond smile, clearly enjoying whatever story you were telling him.

As Otto approached, he noticed Viserys glancing his way with an unmistakable twinkle of amusement in his eyes. The king straightened, nudging you playfully. “Look who’s back to join us—the adventurer himself,” Viserys said, grinning as Otto reached the two of you.

You turned, a mischievous smile lighting up your face. “Ah, the Hand of the King,” you greeted with mock formality. “How did you fare after our little outing, Lord Otto? I trust you’ve recovered?”

Otto cleared his throat, doing his best to maintain his usual decorum. “I am quite well, Princess. Thank you for your… concern.”

Viserys let out a chuckle, crossing his arms as he gave Otto an appraising look. “I have to say, Otto, I never imagined you’d have it in you to brave Flea Bottom with my sister. I almost didn’t believe it when she told me about everything!”

Otto managed a tight-lipped smile, though there was a slight twitch in his jaw. “It was… an experience, Your Grace. One I undertook with the sole purpose of ensuring the princess’s safety, of course.”

“Of course,” you echoed, feigning innocence as you glanced at your brother. “I certainly wouldn’t want to put the esteemed Hand of the King in any… uncomfortable situations.”

Viserys raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the entire spectacle. “From the look of him at the council meeting this morning, I’d say you did exactly that.”

Otto shifted, his cheeks coloring slightly as he fought to maintain his dignity. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle, Your Grace,” he replied, though even he seemed aware of how unconvincing it sounded.

You smirked, stepping a bit closer to Otto, your eyes twinkling. “Well, if nothing else, I must commend you, Lord Otto. You kept up admirably. Perhaps there’s a bit of adventure in you after all.”

Otto inclined his head, clearly trying to hide a faint smile. “I am… adaptable, Princess. And, as I said, I have your well-being to thank for my… involvement.”

Viserys laughed, clapping Otto on the shoulder, which made the older man flinch just a bit. “My sister dragging you through Flea Bottom all night, and now you’re calling it ‘adaptable’? Seven hells, Otto, I think she’s finally wearing you down!”

Otto glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “I can assure you, Your Grace, I remain as steadfast as ever.”

You grinned, folding your arms as you looked at him. “Oh, really? Then perhaps you’ll be up for another outing sometime soon?”

Otto froze, his expression going from steadfast to visibly alarmed in seconds. “Another…?”

Viserys laughed even louder, wiping a tear from his eye as he watched Otto attempt to collect himself. “There’s only so much the man can take, Y/N! Let him recover before you send him back out there.”

Otto managed to compose himself, though there was a wary glint in his eye. “Your Grace, while I am, of course, honored to serve the realm in any way I can, I believe that… one excursion was quite sufficient.”

“Oh, but Lord Otto,” you teased, leaning in slightly, “you handled it so well. Why, I’d say you even looked like you were enjoying yourself by the end of the night.”

He straightened, clearly trying to maintain a sense of authority. “I… was merely ensuring that you enjoyed yourself, Princess. It was my duty.”

Viserys shook his head, thoroughly amused. “Duty or not, I’ll give you this, Otto—you looked far more at ease today than I’ve ever seen you. Maybe Flea Bottom was just what you needed.”

Otto’s mouth twitched in what might have been the faintest hint of a smile, though he quickly hid it. “Thank you, Your Grace. Though I believe I’ll find other ways to relax from now on.”

You and Viserys shared a knowing glance, and as Otto excused himself, you called after him with a smirk. “Rest up, Lord Otto. We wouldn’t want you to fall behind on the next adventure.”

Otto simply nodded, though as he walked away, you could have sworn you saw the barest hint of a smile on his face. Perhaps, just perhaps, you’d managed to chip away a bit of that infamous Hightower reserve. And if he was lucky, maybe he’d survive the next escapade.

Otto lingered at the far end of the courtyard, watching as you prepared for a ride to the Dragonpit, adjusting the straps of your gloves with a look of determined concentration. Beside you stood Ser Arryk, who was checking the saddlebags on your horse and giving the occasional respectful nod as you spoke.

For a moment, Otto considered staying back—after all, it was a rather informal trip, and he’d already spent a fair share of his week… adapting to your unpredictable outings. But then he saw you laugh at something Ser Arryk had said, and before he knew it, his feet were carrying him forward.

“Princess Y/N,” he called, his voice carrying just enough to catch your attention. You turned, mildly surprised to see Otto striding across the courtyard toward you with an air of purpose, his cloak flapping slightly in the breeze.

“Lord Otto,” you greeted, one eyebrow raised in mild amusement. “Did you come to bid me farewell?”

Otto cleared his throat, doing his best to appear nonchalant. “Actually, I thought I might… accompany you. To the Dragonpit.”

Ser Arryk looked between the two of you, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, though he quickly masked it. You couldn’t quite hide your grin. “Accompany me? You’re full of surprises these days, Lord Otto.”

Up on a nearby balcony, Alicent and her brother, Gwayne, had noticed the scene unfolding below. Alicent folded her arms, her brow furrowing in concern as she watched her father, who was usually one to avoid dragon pits and horses if he could help it.

“What is he doing now?” Alicent muttered, shaking her head.

Gwayne smirked, leaning against the railing. “Looks to me like Father’s taken quite the interest in the princess. Though from here, he looks as nervous as a lamb in the wolf’s den.”

Alicent rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. A trip through Flea Bottom, and now he’s offering to ride up to the Dragonpit with her? Next, he’ll be riding dragons himself.”

Back in the courtyard, you adjusted your riding cloak, casting Otto an amused glance. “Are you sure you’re up for it, Lord Otto? It’s a bit of a rough path to the Dragonpit.”

Otto gave a nod, doing his best to hide his nerves as he approached his own horse. “I assure you, Princess, I am more than capable of managing.”

Ser Arryk, suppressing a smile, offered Otto a hand as he mounted the horse, clearly aware that the Hand of the King was more accustomed to sitting at council tables than in saddles. After a bit of an awkward scramble, Otto managed to settle himself, holding the reins with a level of determination that could only come from a man with something to prove.

Alicent sighed from the balcony, shaking her head. “Look at him. He’s barely keeping himself upright.”

Gwayne chuckled, giving her a nudge. “Oh, let him try. He looks ridiculous, but he’s stubborn as a mule. Besides, he might actually learn something.”

Back on the ground, you smirked, nudging your horse forward to ride beside Otto. “I must say, Lord Otto, I didn’t take you for a man of the saddle.”

Otto adjusted his grip on the reins, lifting his chin with the same stubborn resolve he usually reserved for council meetings. “There is much, Princess, that you don’t know about me.”

You bit back a laugh, nodding with feigned seriousness. “I’m sure there is, Lord Otto. And I look forward to discovering it.”

As the two of you began the ride out of the courtyard, Otto threw a determined glance back at Ser Arryk, as if silently declaring that he’d manage just fine. The knight simply gave him a nod of respect, though you could see a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

From the balcony, Alicent groaned softly, watching her father’s form growing smaller as you rode off toward the Dragonpit. “If he manages to get through this without falling off that horse, I’ll be amazed.”

Gwayne laughed, giving her a playful nudge. “Oh, come on, Alicent. Perhaps Father’s got a bit of adventure in him yet. Or maybe he’s just a hopeless fool for the princess.”

Alicent shot him a glare, though she couldn’t quite hide her own smirk. “Either way, we’ll see if he makes it back in one piece.”

As you and Otto rode through the winding streets toward the Dragonpit, with Ser Arryk trailing behind, you couldn’t help but notice the unusual glances being cast your way. Smallfolk paused in their tracks, pointing and murmuring to one another as they spotted Otto, clearly recognizing the Hand of the King. The news of his recent “adventure” in Flea Bottom had apparently spread like wildfire, and now he was something of a… curiosity.

A young boy in the crowd squinted at Otto, his eyes going wide. “That’s him, Ma!” he exclaimed, tugging at his mother’s sleeve. “That’s the old man who was in Flea Bottom with the princess!”

The mother’s eyes widened as well, and she gave Otto a look of mingled surprise and admiration. “So it is! Didn’t think he’d be out again so soon.”

Otto’s cheeks flushed slightly as he caught sight of the gawking onlookers. He cleared his throat, doing his best to keep his head high, though it was clear he was slightly unnerved by the growing crowd of people nudging one another and whispering excitedly.

You leaned over with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at him. “Seems you’ve made quite the impression, Lord Otto. Becoming a man of the people, are we?”

Otto gave you a sidelong look, struggling to keep his composure. “It seems I may have underestimated the speed with which gossip spreads in King’s Landing.”

“Oh, it’s not just gossip,” you replied with a grin. “The smallfolk have been quite taken by the idea of the Hand of the King braving Flea Bottom at night.”

Just then, an elderly vendor caught sight of Otto and gave him a toothy grin. “Ah! There he is—the Flea Bottom Hero!” She waved an enthusiastic hand, calling out, “Didn’t think I’d see you back so soon, m’lord! Here for another adventure?”

Otto’s grip tightened on the reins, though he managed a polite nod. “Not today, madam,” he replied, his voice as steady as he could muster. “Today, I am merely accompanying the princess on her journey.”

The vendor cackled, clearly unconvinced. “Oh, that’s what you said last time, m’lord! I’d wager you’ll be dancin’ in the taverns again before sundown!”

Ser Arryk, riding just behind you, was doing his best to keep a straight face, though you could see the corners of his mouth twitching with barely contained laughter. Otto shot him a warning look, but it only seemed to amuse the knight more.

As you continued down the street, a group of children began skipping alongside your horses, chanting, “Flea Bottom Otto! Flea Bottom Otto!” much to Otto’s horror and your utter delight.

You leaned over again, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Seems you’ve earned yourself a nickname, Lord Otto. It has a certain… ring to it, don’t you think?”

Otto closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep, measured breath before opening them again, his expression one of resigned patience. “I assure you, Princess, I would prefer a title less associated with… tavern floors.”

You chuckled, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Well, Flea Bottom Otto, if the people love you for it, perhaps it’s a title worth keeping.”

Otto gave you a look that was both exasperated and, surprisingly, a little amused. “If it pleases you, Princess, I suppose I shall… endure it.”

The smallfolk continued to watch and wave, some even bowing as you passed, whispering things like “There goes the Hand who braved the wilds of Flea Bottom!” and “Bless him, riding beside the princess like a true knight!”

One particularly bold young man leaned out of a shop doorway, calling out, “Lord Otto! When are you bringing the Hand’s courage back to Flea Bottom?”

Otto’s expression remained dignified, though his face was growing increasingly red. “At the earliest opportunity,” he replied with a tone so dry it made even Ser Arryk let out a quiet chuckle.

As you finally reached the pathway leading up to the Dragonpit, Otto allowed himself a deep sigh of relief, glancing over at you with a look that was both weary and affectionate. “It seems your influence extends beyond the Red Keep, Princess.”

You grinned, nudging your horse to keep pace with his. “Oh, I can’t take all the credit, Lord Otto. You’re the one who braved Flea Bottom, after all.”

He gave you a resigned smile, but you could see the faintest glimmer of pride in his eyes. “I suppose I must learn to live with this… new reputation.”

You laughed, patting his shoulder as the Dragonpit loomed ahead. “Don’t worry, Lord Otto. I think the title suits you.”

The Dragonpit loomed ahead, a grand and slightly ominous structure where the dragons of House Targaryen rested, their shadows casting an otherworldly feel over the already intimidating stonework. As you arrived, Otto looked warily up at the massive structure, and for just a moment, a flicker of hesitation crossed his usually composed face.

Ser Arryk dismounted, keeping a respectful distance as you strode forward with the confident ease of someone who had walked these paths many times before. Otto, on the other hand, took a more cautious approach, his gaze darting to every creak and clank from within the stone walls. The distinct scent of dragon hung in the air—smoke, ash, and something else Otto couldn’t quite identify, though it set him just a bit on edge.

“Not having second thoughts, are you, Lord Otto?” you teased, glancing back over your shoulder.

He cleared his throat, quickly schooling his expression back to its usual calm. “Certainly not, Princess. I simply find the… aroma of the Dragonpit to be rather distinctive.”

You chuckled, adjusting your riding gloves as you continued forward. “That’s one way of putting it. Most people just say it smells like smoke and… well, dragons.”

Otto raised an eyebrow, doing his best to appear unfazed, though his eyes darted to the distant roar that echoed from deep within the pit. “A reasonable assessment, I suppose.”

As you approached the great gates, a Dragonkeeper stepped forward and gave you a respectful bow. “Princess Y/N, your dragon is ready. He’s been a bit restless this morning.”

Otto’s face paled slightly at that, though he kept his expression neutral. “Restless, you say?”

The Dragonkeeper nodded solemnly. “Aye, but nothing to worry about, m’lord. Just eager to stretch his wings, I’d wager.”

Otto gave a stiff nod, but his eyes betrayed a hint of apprehension as he cast a quick glance toward the darkened interior of the Dragonpit. Ser Arryk, sensing Otto’s nerves, leaned over and muttered under his breath, “Not feeling quite as ‘adaptable’ now, are we, my lord?”

Otto shot him a glare but said nothing, focusing instead on keeping his head held high as the Dragonkeeper led the way into the pit. You gave him an encouraging smile, which he returned with a somewhat forced, dignified nod.

Inside, the temperature rose noticeably, the walls almost humming with heat as faint tendrils of smoke curled up from deep cracks in the floor. And there, at the far end, your dragon lay coiled like a massive, armored cat, his tail flicking lazily as he caught sight of you.

You approached him confidently, extending a hand to pat his enormous scaled head. The dragon rumbled in approval, lowering his head slightly in greeting. Otto, who was now standing at what he must have thought was a safe distance, watched the interaction with wide eyes, visibly torn between admiration and alarm.

You turned, giving Otto a playful look. “Would you like to meet him, Lord Otto?”

Otto blinked, clearly not expecting this offer. “Meet… him?”

“Yes,” you replied with a grin. “After all, if you’re going to keep joining me on these little excursions, you might as well get to know my dragon.”

Otto hesitated, glancing between you and the dragon’s enormous, yellow eyes, which were currently fixed on him with what might have been mild curiosity—or perhaps hunger. “I… suppose a formal introduction would be appropriate,” he said, his voice just a touch higher than usual.

Ser Arryk smothered a laugh, watching with barely disguised amusement as Otto took a tentative step forward. The Dragonkeeper, clearly used to the reactions of nervous nobles, patted Otto’s shoulder with a reassuring grin. “Don’t worry, m’lord. Long as you don’t look like a snack, you’ll be fine.”

Otto shot the Dragonkeeper a horrified look, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, Lord Otto,” you coaxed, patting your dragon’s snout. “He’s harmless… mostly.”

The dragon snorted, a faint wisp of smoke billowing from his nostrils as he eyed Otto with something between boredom and mild interest. Otto swallowed but managed to step forward, his movements stiff as he gave a formal, almost courtly bow—directed at your dragon.

“It is… an honor to make your acquaintance,” Otto murmured, though he looked distinctly uncomfortable as he straightened, keeping one eye on the dragon’s every move.

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. “I don’t think he’s accustomed to courtesies, Otto. You can relax.”

Otto cleared his throat, nodding stiffly. “Yes, well… I find it’s best to err on the side of respect when dealing with… creatures of such, ah… stature.”

The dragon let out a rumbling purr, his eyes half-closing in what seemed like amusement, as though he found Otto’s formality as amusing as you did. Ser Arryk couldn’t hold back a laugh any longer, and even the Dragonkeeper was grinning.

“See, Otto?” you said, giving the dragon a fond pat. “He likes you. If he didn’t, trust me, you’d know by now.”

Otto managed a tight-lipped smile, though his eyes flicked toward the exit with unmistakable relief. “Then I shall consider myself… fortunate, Princess.”

With that, you swung up into the saddle on your dragon’s back, giving Otto one last grin. “Thank you for the company, Lord Otto. It’s been… enlightening.”

Otto, looking both relieved and mildly affronted, gave a deep bow, keeping his distance as the dragon stretched his wings. “It has been my… pleasure, Princess,” he replied, though he still looked ready to bolt at any moment.

With a last wave, you urged your dragon skyward, leaving Otto to watch as you soared off into the sky. Behind him, Ser Arryk shook his head, clapping him on the back.

“Well, Lord Otto,” Ser Arryk said with a grin, “I’d say you’ve handled yourself quite well, all things considered.”

Otto nodded stiffly, his eyes still fixed on the now-distant form of you and your dragon. “Yes, well… one must always be prepared for… unexpected challenges in the realm of courtly duty.”

But as he turned to leave, Otto allowed himself a small, slightly bemused smile. It seemed that being at your side, even amidst dragons and daring escapades, was a challenge he was just beginning to enjoy.

[wigmund]

I Need Help

Sorry to do this but I am in a dire situation. I lost my previous job in early October due to health issues causing me to be drowsy at work and this has disqualified me from receiving unemployment benefits from my state. Additionally, this job loss combined with my own anxiety-induced nervousness during interviews means that I have consistently struck out at the eight or nine job interviews I've been able to arrange so far. While I am not giving up on finding a new job, I am in a situation where I am behind on my bills, overdrawn everywhere and only able to receive minor assistance from family due to their own issues - my father and stepmother are still rebuilding their flea market after the Memorial Day tornado that struck Rogers, Arkansas while my mother and stepfather just had major house repairs and medical bills to deal with.

So to seek a bit of help, I am turning to Tumblr to just get by the rest of this month and to give myself stable footing for whatever job opportunities arise over that time.

To be able to cover my late bills and be able to get some gas along with groceries for myself and my cats I am looking to raise about $850 overall - but again anything I receive will be more than appreciated.

Again, I apologize for this and thank you all for everything and for being great friends and a great community.

Here is my Paypal link: paypal.me/Wigmund

[hatingfromacrackedscreen]

One of my favorite things about the Animorphs rotating pov is how you get to see character development happening so subtly but from so many different angles. One of my favorite examples is with Cassie & Marco’s relationship, from when she left the team to the David Arc (books 19-22), and how it explains so much of their dynamic for the rest of the series.

Marco and Cassie have one of the most interesting dynamics out of the Animorphs because of how often they disagree over conflicts/strategy, but also because of the fact that they usually end up being the de facto strategists of the team (They also both are like, in love with Jake, which also leads to really interesting moments but this isn’t about that). Naturally this puts them at odds with each other often, especially during Book #19. Cassie quits the team and voluntarily infests herself so she doesn’t have to kill Karen, something that Marco doesn’t understand and also is upset about, because now he may have to kill Cassie. After book’s end Cassie makes it back to the team and Aftran begins the peace movement. There’s a lot of threads that contribute to spiral from the book, and Cassie and Marco’s relationship is one of the subtler ones. What’s important to note is that the next book, book #20, is a Marco pov. We get to see his thoughts, and all is not forgiven. He reminisces about the recent Cassie-related events, and says something along the lines of “yeah I’m not really chill with her after the shit she pulled with Aftran.” Which I support Cassie fully, but fair enough! Not only did Cassie voluntarily cause their biggest security breach at the moment, but also he thought he, a 14 year old, was now going to have to kill his friend, another 14 year old. I would be pissed too. (Also this is another great subtle narrative thread leading into the David Arc, which derives its most central tension from this same dilemma)

However the culmination of the Cassie Marco tension comes not from either of their own pov, but from the next book, book 21 which is a Jake pov. The Animorphs all morph bugs to break into a hotel that has a Yeerk conspiracy involved, and they come close to the 2 hour limit. They all morph back successfully except Marco (the weakest morpher) who is stuck as a several foot tall giant grotesque flea. Everyone’s freaking out, but it’s Cassie who’s comes forward, places a hand on Marco, and soothingly guides him through his sheer panic, and into demorphing back to his human self. After Marco breaks down and sobs on Cassie, and Jake even notes he’s never seen Marco cry like that. Which is significant since Jake has known Marco grieving through his mother “dying”. Jake doesn’t note it, because it’s a situation he doesn’t even know about, but in this moment Marco forgives Cassie. Marco never gives her shit for the Aftran situation again, either in his narration or in others. And I love that it’s something that’s not explicitly said by Jake in this book, or Marco or Cassie in later ones, but all of the resolution of that tension between them beautify resolves in a book that’s not either of their povs and doesn’t even explicitly mention it.

Not only is that a knack to Animorphs’ character writing, but it sets the foundation for their relationship going forward. It’s why Cassie still goes to talk to Marco in Book #35 through his issues with his dad remarrying, and he ridicules her a bit but hears her out. And then by series end, when Cassie gives the morphing cube away to the Yeerks, and Jake tells everyone. Is Mr. Marco “ruthless bright line from A to B” pissed at her? No he’s over it and back to being chums with her. Because that’s Cassie his bestie now❤️ And I love that no matter how often they’re at conflict later in the series, after the flea incident it never gets as serious in Marcos narration as it was to him before, in book #20. Animorphs’ character writing amongst multiple povs is just so so soo good.

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Under foot

*Warning content mature for physical confrontation in story do not attempt in reality*

Someone should have warned him. Honestly? You thought someone had by now, and he was just ignoring the rumors. But really now, he was asking for it. If it didn't come from you, you were sure someone else would have done it.

Nobody scares your son and gets away with it. And how dare this mutt even think of telling your little Ray of Sunshine that he doesn't belong here when clearly he is thriving. How was this flea bag even related to a pedigree of Kalego-Sans caliber?

You stared down at the demon that you had just bitch-slapped to the ground. You won't apologize he was upsetting iruma and your poor baby looked close to a panic attack! You stood your ground and kept yourself in front of iruma just in case.

"It seems to me that you're the one who doesn't quite understand their place. You must have very low self-esteem if scaring a child makes you feel high and mighty." The cold tone, much like the echoed song of your slap, had the entire rooms attention.

"I don't want to hear that coming from an unrank-" another slap knocked him over before he could even try to climb back up on whatever high horse he rode in here with. You spotted a trickle of blood run down his cheek, and you buzzed with glee inside.

"Regardless of if I am or without a rank, do you honestly think that I would let you get away with threatening my child?" You examine your nails for a moment letting out a soft tsk when you spotted a chip in the perfect manicure Opera had given you for tonight.

"Frankly, I don't give a shit about who you are. I made a promise to my child from day one that I would protect them. You've made yourself a threat. It's sad to see that one who is a candidate for the 13 crowns is a mannerless dog."

You had been excited to meet the brother Kalego-San had spoken highly of, but meeting him like this, you knew Kalego-Sans opinion was unfortunately biased. He tried to push himself up, but you weren't done yet. Jamming your heeled shoe right into his calf, he grunted in pain. Mentally, you thanked Opera for convincing you to wear stilettos instead of the normal wedged shoes you would grab for height.

He snarled at you and tried to scare you with his magic. A large black wolf with 3 eyes and multiple tails. The beast imitated it's masters displeasure and growled deeply. It was scary you'd give it that 7/10 on the whole it'll eat me alive bit. But iruma being hurt or scared was far more terrifying to you.

Looking it up and down, you feigned disinterest. "Practically foaming at the mouth. A rabid beast with a moronic and tactless master." The dry monotone seemed to confuse all those watching. How could you be so calm?

Taking a small breath, you locked eyes with the animal. It was a battle of wills. And you were not willing to lose when you had iruma shaking behind you. Your baby came first, not you. So you weren't going to turn tail.

Twisting your foot deeper into your prey you grasped Fenrir's ear and also held it in a tight pinch he was not getting up or escaping anytime soon you noted from the painfull hiss you heard escape his lips. Oh, right, demons' ears were far more sensitive. You noted before brushing off the thought with a he'll live. 'For now.' A dark and twisted part of you agreed.

The wolf seemed conflicted as it watched you manhandled its owner. Though like a loyal dog, it did try baring its fangs at you. You bared your own teeth and let out a guttural snarl. You weren't certain if animal noises from Earth translated to those in Hell, but you hoped the message was still clear. 'Back off mutt.'

Its ears immediately flattened, and it let out a whine of sorts before disappearing. Glancing down, you saw Fenrir looking at you in what you could only describe as pure shock. Clearly, no one had been able to do that before. Good.

"See, even your little puppy knows when to submit to the alpha of the pack." You released his ear but did not ease your foot. Looming over him, you carefully stroaked the scratches you had landed on his face. He winced as you started applying pressure to the wound.

"You think you're superior? I literally have you under foot. I thought those of you on the border patrol were taught not to underestimate your enemy?" Tilting your head back, you glanced over at iruma just a quick check. He had stopped shaking and was looking at you in amazement.

You knew why. The entire course of your actions screamed that 'I belong here'. And if you who had less magic and no physical strength could walk amongst demons and go toe to toe with them, it was saying so could he and his ideals. You gave him a quick smile before returning your gaze to your current headache.

You had an entire room full of demons watching, and of course, you had a role to finish. Acting out the role of Irumas enraged parent was easy. Took absolutely no effort on your part cause you were actually that pissed. But being Sullivan's child, you had to show a bit of class.

You were among high society in the demon world, after all, for a party for the newest members of the 13 crowns. And you had one of the candidates under your heeled boots injured and awaiting your next move. The crowd mermered most in fascination of your control over not only the situation but the room itself.

It was as though you were holding trial over a convicted criminal. Or a ruler holding court and about to perform an execution. Finally removing your hand, you showed him your palm stained with his own blood. A vicious and cunning smile painted your face. Leaning closer, you allowed the weight of your body to press into his leg, allowing him to feel more pain from your actions.

And as he tried to hold back any sounds of discomfort and erase any traces of pain from his face, you started to whisper in his ears. "I know exactly who you are, Naberius Narnia, and I know you know what I am." His body stiffened immediately, seeming to realize how much trouble he was actually in with you.

"Don't you think it's funny? That demons needed to be the ones to leave instead of humans. I do." You purred into his ear, watching him twitch. "It's so cute how one thinks it was for the safety of humans that demon kind left!" Leaning back, you began to ease your foot off him.

"The reality of the matter is demons like you got scared of ones like me. Ones who just charge in blindly uncaring of the odds against them. Humans can be more frightening than demons when they want something." Your voice still low and hushed almost seductive.

"I don't care what you're planning. You could flip Hell upside-down for all I care. But if you try to drag my son into whatever game you are playing, just know this. You will meet your end by my hand. You will watch as I rip your wings off so you can't fly away. You will see me slowly skin you inch by inch. Your eyes will be my new earrings watching each bit of horror I wreak on you."

Standing at full height, you smirked down at him, confidence oozing out of you as you looked at the once proud alpha reduced to a quivering omega. Once more, you showed him your blood-stained palm. The madness seeping through your eyes, and you voice loud enough for the room to hear now.

"I do believe we've made quite the scene. It would be a shame for this party to be ruined by some... disagreement of opinions. I'm certain you've learned to be more mindful of your words, especially around children. They are impressionable."

The unspoken warning rang throughout the ballroom. Bowing his head lowly at you. "Thank you for imparting your wisdom on me. It was... enlightening." He remained on the floor, not daring to move. "And?"

Licking his lips, he lowered himself further down. "I apologize to both you and your son for my brazen behavior. You are correct, I acted out of line. And for that I am sorry." You tilted your head and hummed as if debating on if the apology had been to your liking.

"Thank you, we accept your apology." Iruma nervously spoke from behind you. You clapped your hands together cheerfully. "I'm so glad that's settled! Now run along doggy and go wash up." Waving the vile demon away from you, you watched as he quickly slipped out of the room. Only when he had disappeared behind the doors did you turn to face your son.

"Thank you for keeping our promise." Iruma said, smiling peacefully now that everything was over. "I intend to keep it with my dying breath." You told him before ruffling his hair. "Ugh, I'm hungry. Let's eat!" You quickly guided him to one of the nearby tables to stack countless items on your plates.

[cthulhu-with-a-fez]

You reblogged a dewy spiderweb photoset the other day and commented you made a shawl inspired by that once. Tell us about that, do you have pictures? 👀

I DO ACTUALLY okay so like here's the thing you gotta Understand about me, i get. Intense. about gifts. and when i had my Defining The Relationship conversation with my long-distance then-friend now-datemate (of now over four years!! i love them so much, i'm so happy :D) it happened in february of 2020, so uh. all of our travel plans were pretty immediately kaput due to covid. which meant that i was getting returns on interest on my pent-up first-meeting-in-person, and it had to go SOMEWHERE

so i uh. might. maybe. have gone slightly overboard making them a courting gift, while we waited.

they'd started using spider imagery for me as an endearment after a while of seeing the kinds of stuff i liked to make, so when i found this pattern on ravelry i got a little obsessed with it because doesn't it just vibe like a dewy spiderweb, though??

i had a good couple skeins of this really lovely llama/silk blend yarn (now tragically discontinued, RIP to juniper moon stargazer) that i had intended to use to make a cardigan for someone who ultimately blacklisted herself from my knitworthy-people list, but that's besides the point, because the POINT IS that i found myself staring at the ~1800 yards of it that i had, and the little jars of vintage wooden beads i'd picked up at a flea market ages ago, and uh. look. they didn't NOT remind me of a cute lil jumping spider when i sat them next to each other, is the thing, and the yarn was SO cozy soft, and uh

it turned out B I G

out of all that yardage i literally only had LESS THAN A FOOT left after the bind-off, so i think i pretty successfully won that round of yarn chicken XD

i ended up going even MORE overboard with gifts when i did finally get to meet them in person, because in the meantime i'd made a cedar box with fancy grain matching to put the shawl in and decided THAT wasn't enough so i packed mugs, looseleaf tea, teaspoon measure, animal tea infusers, a family friend's homemade bread, homemade plum chutney, three kinds of cheese (two of which were from the dairy farm i worked at for a year), a cutting board to put all that on, fancy chocolates from the airport, a worksheet with measurements for a sweater to make them later, and a few other odds and ends, along with pillaging the landscaping around the hotel for greenery accents XD

and the funny part is, the way the room was laid out you couldn't immediately see the bed from right inside the doorway, it's around the corner to the left, so when they walked through the door and saw all this and were like "is this your version of a trail of rose petals leading to the bed? XD" i was like "wellllllll,"

"maybe a little bit yeah :3"

and they just cracked up XD

[resident-gay-bitch]

*looks at you with big wet eyes* transfem sirius hcs please🥺also what do you think her fashion sense is like

*looks at you right back with even bigger wet eyes* HIIIII! Im so sorry for getting back to you so late, please forgive me, I've been very busy and didn't even notice I had this ask

⭐️ Sirius Sundays ⭐️

Here are my transfem Sirius headcannons! (I love her so much), (I hope you don't mind that I included this in my Sirius Sunday thing);

Her style:

I think it probably wouldn't stray too far from what she'd already wear pre transition; for wizards skirts and dresses aren't that far off from robes so styles of clothing wouldn't really feel too different for her.

In terms of muggle clothing style specifically she'd still wear a lot of boot cut jeans and bell bottoms, a lot of band shirts and her leather jacket, she'd probably just style them a little differently, now with things in her hair, more jewellery and makeup and stuff.

However, I do also think she would raid Lily, Mary, and Marlenes wardrobes to find things that she likes. I think once Sirius came out, the girls would have basically adopted her as their protégé, teaching her anything and everything she wants to know about girlhood.

I think she'd like Mary's wardrobe best, I always hc Mary as a very fashionable person who likes to experiment and be bold with her outfits, and Sirius would love the sparkly dresses and bold colours stuffed into her wardrobe, and she'd have the best time trying everything on and doing a little fashion show for her friends.

I think as well she would wear a lot of skirts. She'd like the way they feel, how flowy they are and how cute they look, and they help her pass better in the beginnings of her transition, and also she knows she's got amazing legs so she doesn't mind showing them off a bit (showing them off to one specific person, more like).

I think, even though she'd try to pass more with typically "feminine colours", blue would be her best colour. Pretty shades of dark iridescence and periwinkles as well, she'd have lots of dresses, skirts, and coats in various shades of blue, and they'd always make her feel most pretty and feminine. Especially some blue eyeshadow or eyeliner. James would call her new penchant for blue a betrayal and tell her to go join Ravenclaw for being such a traitor (and then secretly tell her she's pretty and looks great at the same time).

Tall girls being even taller in high heels is a weekness of mine, and if I knew Sirius in real life, she'd abuse that weakness. I think anytime theres a party or a fancy event on, she'd put a pair of high heels on. They'd make her feel so pretty and feminine, and she'd be so tall. At first she refused to wear any shoe that wasn't flat on the foot because "girls are meant to be shorter than guys, right?" but then everyone told her that was stupid and peer pressured her into a high heels, and made sure she felt amazing in them.

In public, Sirius is very amendment on passing. She's done her research and always wears the most feminine clothing in muggle areas, wears the girls uniform to school, puts on eyeliner and lipstick, pitches her voice up, etc etc, and it's very important to her that she passess. With her friends she relaxes a little, when it's just them in a private area (esp just the marauders because they've seen the most over her over the years and she knows they don't really care), but she still pitches her voice up and wears typically feminine "colours" or "clothing". However, when with James or at home with just the Potters, she doesn't try at all; she'll often use her natrual voice, doesn't ever try to tuck or wear anything really feminine unless she just feels like doing so, she'll let her stubble come in from time to time even, until annoys her, and they never make her feel bad for it. James still calls her gorgeous every day, and Effie and Flea still call her their daughter. They make her feel extremely comfortable.

I think she'd love wearing her hair in double plaits, she'd look so cute like that and she likes how feminine it is, and it would also make her feel like the little girl inside her is coming alive, because all through the first and second years of school, all the girls in their year would have worn double plaits to class. So not only would it be cool and cute, it would be a way for her to feel like she's experiencing the girlhood she missed out on when she was younger. (Maybe James learnt how to braid so he could do it for her before bed if she's tired, and in the mornings so she could do her makeup and stuff at the same time so they wouldn't be late to work / class)

I also think she'd go through a phase where she'd grow her hair as long as possible just to see how long she can get it. Her record is just past her arse and she's very proud of it.

She'd love playing around and experimenting with hairstyles as well. She'd 100% go through bad phases of strange styles and all of her friends just have to grin and bear it, because if a very high side pony is what makes her feel best this week, than they're not going to crush her soul, they know she'll grow out of it soon enough. She does have taste afterall.

She'd get so pissed off about the lack of pockets in everything when she starts shopping for muggle womens clothes, and you know the minuet she finds a dress with pockets she'd show it off to everyone. She'd get so excited and wear the dress for like a month straight, no fucks given, only pockets.

She'd practice makeup looks on the Marauders all the time. James is her most willing model, of course, he'd let her do anything she wanted, but sometimes she'd want to practice on someone with a similar complexion to her, or with a different eye or lip shape or whatever, or sometimes if James isn't around to model. She'd wrangle Remus and Pete into getting their makeup done by her, and they argue the whole time even though they secretly enjoyed it a lot.

Before she came out to Effie and Flea - maybe especially if she was still living at 12GWP at the time she figured it out - and she started experimenting with her gender to figure it out, she wanted to try womens underwear and stuff, but she didn't want to be seen / caught buying it when she was still perceived as a bloke, so she made a bunch herself. She cut her breifs into knickers shape and made makeshift braletts out of old shirts and pyjamas (she had to learn how to sew for this too), and one day Effie or Flea came along to do her washing and found all the janky looking underwear and just went to her like "right, good effort darling but I'm taking you shopping for some real undergarments that actually fits you properly an doesn't look like it went through a blender".

Hc's about her transition;

I feel like she only figured out she was trans later in life, probably after she ran away to the Potters and started to really work on becoming her best self, or possibly just figured it out right before she ran away, and that was the kind of final reason to do it because she knew she had a better chance of acceptance with them <3

I am a tall Sirius truther till the day I die, so obviously she'd be a very very tall woman and this would make Marlene very jealous, and she'd constantly tease Marlene for being so short.

You already know that James is the first person she told, and if this is all happening in the 70s/80s, he probably would have been a little confused by the concept at first and didn't understand it at all. He would have never heard of transexuality and people swapping genders, but he would have still accepted her immediately. He would have asked so many questions, not only to make sure he was doing all the right things to make sure Sirius felt comfortable, proud, and happy throughout her transition, but also because he was extremely curious. He would have done a lot of research for her. (If Sirius wants something, Sirius gets it, so if she wants to be called she and a woman now, James is going to give 110% effort).

All of her friends have had a crush on her at one point, no matter their sexuality (eg pre transition + post), and she's pretty indifferent to people having feelings or attraction towards her, doesn't really care about it at all, but she does like to brag about it with her friends. And she loves to hold it over their heads lol.

I think if she came out whilst still in Hogwarts, she would have just gaslit everyone into thinking she was never a bloke. She'd get all her friends in on it, along with McGonagall of course, and anytime someone asked why she was wearing the girls uniform everyone would just be like "she's a girl wtf are you going on about? no, she was never a bloke, do you need me to take you to the sick wing?"

I think as well, after she came out, she would have gotten a lot closer with the girls. She'd love the way that girls all talk to each other, she'd love the constant drama and gossip, and she'd love how in touch and normal they are about their own emotions. Of course, Sirius has always felt she can talk to James about everything, and she does, but she likes how she can have deeper conversations more casually with the girls and in a group setting and stuff. She'd love how they always immediately validate her feelings and give her proper good advice and can relate to her problems in their own ways. But James would get extremely jealous of this and always try to intervene on girls night - it would never work, but Sirius promised to give him the best gossip when she gets home.

Back to Sirius being drop dead gorgeous, I think after she came out all the blokes on like the quidditch team and in their year would start fancying her, hoping to get a shag or whatever, and would constantly talk to James about it (they'd especially be asking if James and Sirius are actually together now that she's a girl because they're that close, James never gives them a real answer, just tells them Sirius isn't interested), and of course James would tell her all of this. They'd think it's so funny, but it's also strange because suddenly all of Sirius casual mates and quidditch team want a shag with her and it's weird. Again she's indifferent to it, has no interested in any of their advances, but it is odd when all the blokes who used to call her "a good lad" and would crudely talk about girls in the locker room around her, are now interested in her.

I think she'd love taking photos throughout her transition to track her progress. So then on days she feels like shit she can look back through them and see how much she's grown and feel as beautiful as she is again.

Thank you for the ask, I really love receiving them! I had a lot of fun compiling this list actually, I haven't written out all my transfem Sirius hc's before. I really love her so much and she deserves some more recognition tbh. She's the best. :P

[shensation]

My back yard is a popular hotspot for neighborhood cats- some outdoor pets, some strays. I've seen at least five DIFFERENT cats drinking from my frog pond. Recently I had been seeing this little black cat a lot more than usual.

So about a week and a half ago, it was pouring rain and I looked onto my deck and what do I see but THREE FERAL KITTENS PLAYING. I think they were born in the bush next to our deck and she took them to high ground when the rain made it swampy. I took the above video where I realize why I'd been seeing that cat so much.

You can also hear in my voice at the end as I wonder what the Hell I'm supposed to do now. Do I... do I just leave the kittens?? The mom will be back when Im gone.

I decided to take them in. Better to be raised in a warm house than grow up feral in my back yard, right? I still believe this but I couldn't help but feel like a kidnapper when I caught them.

I only managed to catch two. The third hid where I couldn't reach him, and the mama came back and took him away. I haven't seen either since. I'm gonna try calling TNR and see if they can find her. I hope that third kitten is okay.

MEANWHILE NOW I HAVE TWO KITTENS.

My pal @squimoo fosters kittens so I yelled at her and she gave me some advice. She said they looked about 4 weeks, which is old enough to be raised away from mom. I gave them warm towels and boxes to hide in, and some of my cat's wet food, and gave them some space.

They slowly got more comfortable and we moved them to the office where we had a little more environmental control. The next day I took them to the vet. Both healthy- no mites or worms or anything, got their shots and flea meds- both girls!

(Husband was a tiny bit sad- he wanted a boy cat lol)

So we have now adopted two precious baby kittens! Over the past week they've warmed up to us a lot, and we're seeing their personalities!

Husband and I each named one. He named the dark one Gally, after his favorite manga Battle Angel Alita.

I named the blonde one Azrael, the angel of death but also Gargamel's cat from the Smurfs. I always thought that was a badass name for a cat lol.

Azrael is cautious and shy but she'll purr for chin scritches. She loves to climb, as high as she can- she'll be the first to knock over our Christmas tree.

Gally is playful and friendly. She loves attention and wet food and attacking our toes. She loves belly rubs and keeps trying to climb up after her sister but isn't as sure of her footing yet.

And that's the story of how I have two new kittens and they are my life and I love them

(Alchemy is displeased. We're working on that.)

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Five: The Flea and the Acrobat

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) (eventually) Word Count: 3,879 Warnings: lil’ bit of angst, Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! I’m sorry this is late! All is explained in A/N2. We don’t get much of Steve in this chapter. BUT!, If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

prev | current chapter | next

season masterlist

series masterlist

series playlist 

While I was sitting in the living room with my mom, the phone rang. With a huff, I got up and answered it, hearing my brother’s pleading voice on the other end of the line. I sighed before hanging up, telling my mom that I needed to head to the Wheeler’s house for a moment. I don’t think she heard me as she held onto Mews.

I got on my bike and made my way to the Wheeler’s, thinking about everything that has transpired since the 6th, which was only a few days ago. The boys had told me, once I stepped foot into the basement, that they heard Will’s voice. Of course, at first, I didn’t believe them, but once I stopped and thought about it for a moment, my belief was there.

Crossing my arms, I looked from El to Mike, asking, “So, what was Will saying?”

“Like home… like home… but dark?” Mike said, getting up from his seat on the couch.

“And empty,” Lucas added.

“E.T. home phone,” I muttered. 

Dustin sighed from his seat on the basement stairs and said, “Empty and cold. Wait, did he say cold?”

“Does it matter?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Lucas said. “The stupid radio kept going in and out.”

Sighing again, Dustin said, “It’s like riddles in the dark.”

I thought for a moment, sighing. “Like home. Wait, like his house?”

Pointing his finger in agreement, Lucas said, “Or maybe like Hawkins.”

“Upside down,” El said, fatigue lacing her voice.

I looked at her for a moment before walking to the couch and squatting beside it at the armrest. 

“What’d she say?” Lucas asked.

“Upside down,” I whispered.

“What?”

“Upside down,” Mike said. 

I turned my head and watched as he sat at the table, messing with the D&D game board as he explained, “When El showed us where Will was, she flipped the board over, remember?” He flipped it a couple times before looking at me and saying, “Upside down. Dark. Empty.”

Turning to look at me, Lucas asked, “Do you understand what he’s talking about?”

“Not got a clue,” I said, standing. I walked over to the table and sat across from the Wheeler boy, Dustin agreeing with me.

“Guys, come on, think about it,” Mike said. “When El took us to find Will, she took us to his house, right?”

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “And he wasn’t there.”

I was finally picking up what Mike was laying down as I shook my head, “But what if he was there, and we just couldn’t see him? What if he was on the other side?” I took the board from Mike as Lucas thought about it, and flipped in on the white side. “What if this is Hawkins and…” I flipped the board back to its black bottom. “This is where Will is? The Upside Down.”

“Like the Vale of Shadows,” Dustin said.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You don’t understand, do you?” 

“Nope.” Dustin sighed, saying, “Sisters,” before he grabbed Mike’s gaming manual, setting it on the table. He turned to the page he needed before reading from the pages. “The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters. It is right next to you, and you don’t even see it.”

“An alternate dimension,” Mike and I said.

“But… h-how do we get there?” Lucas asked.

“You cast Shadow Walk,” Dustin said.

“In real life, dummy.”

“Hey, watch it with the names,” I said, pointing at Lucas. “Only I can call him dummy.”

“We can’t shadow walk, but…” Dustin said, looking at El. “Maybe she can.”

I got up and walked back over to her, squatting beside her once again. She smiled softly at me, to which I returned. “Hey, sweetie. Do you know how we can get there; to the Upside Down?”

She shook her head no, to which Lucas sighed out, “Oh my god!”

I never took my eyes off of her as I gently rubbed her arm. “Listen, Dustin and I are gonna go home. You get some sleep, alright? We’ll see you later, okay?”

She nodded her head, her eyes thanking me. I smiled softly at her, and curtly nodded my head once. I stood up, motioning for Dustin to get his stuff so that we could go home. I made sure that Lucas knew to go home as well, and that we’d see them all at the funeral tomorrow.

~~~

 “Fear not, for I am with you,” the preacher said. “Be not dismayed, for I am your God.”

The boys, their families and myself, plus some of the kids from the Middle School, were at the gravesite attending Will’s funeral… or rather his fake funeral.

“I will strengthen you,” the preacher went on. “Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. It’s times like these that our faith is challenged…”

While the preacher went on with his sermon, I looked over at Joyce, only seeing the back of her head. I knew she knew this funeral was bullshit, and I could only hope that she could feel my support behind her. 

I then looked over at Jonathan, and I could sense from him that this was very real to him. I only wish I could knock some sense into him. Lonnie couldn’t care less about what happened to his kids. He was only there to “show support.”

I was standing behind Dustin when I saw his head move from the corner of my eye. Looking down at him, I was fully prepared to knock him upside his head as he said, “Just wait ‘til we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral.”

Mrs. Wheeler put her hand on my shoulder, shushing the boys. She couldn’t see it, but I rolled my eyes at her shushing, knowing all this was bullshit.

After the preacher was through with his sermon, those that had roses dropped them onto the casket in the grave. I walked over to Joyce, tapping her on the shoulder. When she turned around to face me, I could tell that was grateful, but also a little fearsome. I hugged her, not letting go for a minute. Before I did let her go, however, I whispered in her ear, “I believe you. We’ll find him.”

We pulled back and all I saw from her eyes was gratefulness. Grateful that someone was on her side. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and as I turned to see who it was, I saw Jonathan walking away. I decided to follow him, eyebrows furrowed. I sat on my knees in front of him and Nancy, a paper in his hand.

“So, this is where we know it’s been,” Jonathan said, looking at Nancy then up at me.

I looked over the paper as Nancy asked, “So, that’s–”

“Steve’s house,” I answered.

“And that’s the woods where they found Will’s bike,” Jonathan pointed. “And that’s my house.”

“It’s all so close,” Nancy said. 

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“Okay, before we go any further,” I said. “Why exactly am I over here?”

“Because I know you believe my mom, and I know you know something is up.”

“Yes to the first and yes to the second,” I answered. “More importantly, what the hell are two talking about?”

“Do you remember that thing my mom was talking about; the creature?”

I nodded. “The one that had no face.”

Jonathan nodded, looking down for a moment before going back to the task at hand. “Anyway,” he said, looking at Nancy. “It’s all within a mile or something.” Looking back up at me, he said, “Whatever this thing is, it’s… it’s not traveling far.”

I looked down as Nancy said, “You wanna go out there.”

“We might not find anything.”

“I found something.”

I quickly looked up at her, wanting to know what this something was that she found. “Care to share?”

She looked at me like she didn’t know how to put it into words before saying, “And if we do see it… then what?” She looked between Jonathan and I as if we’d have all the answers.

Jonathan and I looked at each other, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. We both looked at Nancy as we said, “We kill it.”

We all walked over to where the cars were parked, Jonathan leading us to his dad’s car. He opened the passenger door, getting in and removing a pocket knife from his pocket.

“What are you doing?” Nancy asked as Jonathan shoved the tip of the knife into the keyhole of the glovebox. 

“Just give me a sec,” he said. He pulled out a revolver not five seconds later, checking the rounds for the bullet count. He took out the ammo that was in the glovebox, and put it in his jacket pocket, ultimately freaking Nancy out.

“Are you serious?” she asked, looking around.

“You want to take a picture of this thing–” Demogorgon. “--or would you prefer to yell at it?” I asked.

She crossed her arms after shaking her head. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Didn’t seem so terrible five minutes ago.” I mimicked her stance. 

“It’s the best we’ve got,” Jonathan said. He looked at me then back at Nance. “What? You can tell someone, but they’re not gonna believe you. You know that.”

I scrunched my face in confusion. “You didn’t even believe it.”

“That was about Will,” he said. “This is about that thing.”

“Your mom would,” Nancy said.

“She’s been through enough,” Jonathan said as I looked down, toeing at the grass.

“She deserves to know.”

“Yeah, and I’ll tell her…”

“When it’s dead or when we bring Will back?” I asked, looking up at him.

He and I were having a stare down before Nancy suggested that I go with Dustin to the reception, and that she and Jonathan would figure this out and let me know the plan. 

~~~

Once I got to reception, I immediately made my way to Joyce and had a small conversation with her. I shared my favorite memory of Will with her, celebrating the boy he is rather than was. I got a small smile from her as I lightly laughed at a memory I shared. She chuckled as I said, “I mean, I still don’t know how we got it out without making his nose bleed. I was scared to death that I'd get in trouble!”

We both looked at Lonnie as he laughed at something someone said. Joyce and I looked back at each other, a somewhat happy moment ruined. I scooted my chair closer to her and grabbed her hands. She looked me in my eyes as I said, “I swear, Joyce, we’ll find him, and we’re gonna bring him home. I won’t sleep, I won’t go to school–”

“Go to school,” she interrupted, patting my hands. “Sleep, go to school…” She trailed off for a moment, looking down. She sniffled and looked back up at me, saying, “Then we’ll bring him home.”

I shook my head. “No, no no. He’s like a little brother to me. I can’t live on like everything’s normal–”

“Liv!!” Dustin yelled. 

I looked over at him, eyes wide as he motioned for me to come sit with him, Mike, Lucas, and Mr. Clarke. I nodded my head and looked back at Joyce. “You’re family, and I would burn Hawkins to the ground to help you look for Will.” I stood up some and hugged her, feeling her appreciation through it.

Once we parted, I sat down next to Dustin at the table he was sitting at. “What, Dustin?”

“Listen,” Lucas said.

“Boy–”

“So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Sagan talks about other dimensions?” Mike asked. “Like, beyond our world?”

I reached over and took one of Dustin’s Nilla Wafers. I looked down at it while leaning over towards Dustin, saying, “These aren’t real Nilla Wafers.”

“That’s what I said,” he replied. 

“Well, basically, there are parallel universes,” Mr. Clarke said. “Just like our world–”

“With infinite variations of it,” I said.

He smiled at me, saying, “That’s right.” He looked at each of the boys as he continued, “Which means there’s a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened.”

“Yeah, that’s not what we’re talking about,” Lucas said, defeat in his voice.

“I think what they were thinking, Mr. Clarke,” I said, “is something more less than good, more of the evil spectrum. Like…” I looked at Dustin, hoping he would back me up.

“Like the Vale of Shadows,” Dustin said. I leaned my shoulder into his, telling him thank you in that movement.

“An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic–” Mr. Clarke started, interrupted by Mike saying, “Yeah, exactly. If that did exist–”

“Like the Vale of Shadows,” I interrupted.

He looked at me, annoyance on his face as I said, “Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

Rolling his eyes, Mike looked back at Mr. Clarke and continued, “How would we travel there?”

“Theoretically,” Lucas said. 

“Well…” Mr. Clarke said, trailing off to find something to write on and with. He drew two lines on a spare plate with a stick figure on the top line. “Picture an acrobat standing on a tightrope. Now, the tightrope is our dimension, and our dimension has rules.” Drawing a right and left arrow, he said, “You can move forwards or backwards. But, what if right next to our acrobat, there’s a flea?” He drew a circle with legs next to the acrobat. “Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat, right?”

Dustin and I were both sitting with our fingers laced and up to our mouths, concentrating on what Mr. Clarke was saying, Mike and Lucas just sitting, paying attention. All of us replying, “Right,” in answer to his question.

“Here’s where things get really interesting,” he said. “The flea can also travel this way, along this side of the rope.” He drew an arrow going both ways in between the two lines. “He can even go underneath the rope.” He drew a curved arrow pointing toward the bottom line. 

“Upside down,” the boys all said.

“Exactly.”

“But we’re not the flea, we’re the acrobat,” I said, pointing towards the plate. 

“In this metaphor, Olivia, yes, we’re the acrobat.”

“So, we can’t go upside down?” I asked, turning my hand over to my palm is parallel with the table. 

“No.”

“Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?” Dustin asked.

“Well… you’d have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open some kind of tear in time and space, and then…” Mr. Clarke folded his plate and stabbed the plate with his pen. “Create a doorway.”

“Like a gate?” Dustin and I asked.

“Sure,” Mr. Clarke said. “Like a gate. But again, this is all–”

“Theoretical,” Lucas answered.

“But… what if this gate already existed?” Mike asked.

“Well, if it did, I think we’d know,” Mr. Clarke said. “It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole. Science is neat. But, I’m afraid it’s not very forgiving.”

~~~

I ended up driving the boys back to Mike’s house, where they told me El still was. When we walked into the basement, I smiled at her, to which she smiled back. Mike sat down and immediately started telling her what Mr. Clarke had just explained to all of us. She jumped when Mike stabbed his pencil through the folded paper in his hand.

“It would take a lot of energy to build a gate like this,” Mike said. “But, that’s gotta be what happened. Otherwise, how’d Will get there, right?”

I stood from where I was sitting, putting my hands on my face and whispered, “Jesus, Mike.”

“R-right,” I heard El reply.

“What we want to know is, do you know where the gate is?” Lucas asked.

I looked at Dustin as he was walking back and forth with a compass before turning in circles. “Dusty, what the hell are you doing?”

“Then how do you know about the Upside Down?” 

It was quiet for a moment as I watched my brother. I shouted his name with the help of Lucas and Mike.

He stopped and looked at us before locking eyes with me. “I–I need to see their compasses.”

“What?” Mike asked.

“Your compasses! All of your compasses, right now!”

All the compasses we could find were placed on the table in the middle of the basement.

“What’s exciting about this?” Mike asked.

“Well, they’re all pointing north, right?” Dustin said, smiling.

“So?” I dragged out.

“Well, that’s not true north.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What I just said. Clean your ears, Liv,” Dustin said. “That’s not true north.” He and I stared at each other before he said, “Are you seriously this dense?”

“Watch it, Dustin. I know where you sleep.”

“Oh my god,” he whispered. He grabbed my shoulders and said, “The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Which means your ass is facing true north.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child, first off,” I said, shoving his hands off my shoulders. 

“Before you two fight like me and Nance,” Mike said. “What Dustin’s saying is is that the compasses are completely broken.”

“Do you even understand how a compass works?” Dustin asked. “Do you see a battery pack on this?” He put a compass in Mike’s face. 

“No, he doesn’t,” I said, putting his arm down.

“Besides, it doesn’t need one,” Dustin said. “The needle is naturally drawn to the Earth’s magnetic North Pole.”

“So, what’s wrong with them?” Lucas asked.

“Well, that’s what I couldn’t figure out, but then I remembered. You can change the direction of a compass with a magnet. If there’s a presence of a more powerful magnetic field, the needle deflects to that power.”

I looked off, confused as ever. 

“And then I remembered what Mr. Clarke said. The gate would have so much power–”

“It could disrupt the electromagnetic field,” Mike and I said.

“Exactly.”

“Meaning, if we follow the compasses’ north,” Lucas said. 

“They should lead us to the gate,” Dustin said.

I looked over at El, seeing fear on her face. At first, I thought it would be a good idea to find this gate thing, but now… now I’m not so sure.

~~~

When I started to walk towards the Wheeler’s front door, Nancy stopped me and asked if I could stay a little bit longer. I agreed and walked up the stairs after telling Dustin to be safe on his travels home. I changed into some clothes I had left over as she walked down the stairs. 

Once I had changed and walked down the stairs, I asked Mrs. Wheeler where Nancy went, and she informed me Nancy was in the garage. The moment I walked outside, I watched as Nancy almost hit Steve with her bat.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

I leaned against the side of the car on the hood, watching their exchange.

“Nothing,” Nancy said.

“I hope that’s not meant for me,” Steve said.

“What?” She looked down at her bat. “Oh, no, I was just–”

“She was thinking about joining softball,” I said.

She and I locked eyes, mine telling her to play along. When I looked back at Steve, he looked surprised.

“Hey, Liv,” he said. “What, uh, what’re you doing here?”

“Helping Nance with softball.”

He looked at me like he didn’t believe me, but I guess he decided not to speak on it because he looked back at Nancy and said, “I’m really sorry. I mean, even before you threatened me with the baseball bat.” He walked over and leaned on the car next to me. I looked at his profile as he kept talking. “I panicked and… I mean, I was a total dick.”

“Yeah, you were,” Nancy and I answered.

“Did you get in trouble with your parents?” Nancy asked as I looked down at my shoes.

“Totally, but…” Steve said. “Ya’know, who cares? Screw ‘em. Any news about Barbra?”

It was quiet for a moment before I heard Nancy whisper my name. I looked up, seeing two pairs of eyes on me.

I shook my head, Steve asking if her parents heard from her. “No,” I answered. I looked up at Nancy, sensing some tension. 

“Hey, listen,” Steve said. 

I looked at him, noticing that he was looking at Nancy and taking a few steps towards her. “Why don’t we, uh, why don’t we catch a movie tonight, ya’know? Just kinda pretend everything’s normal for a few hours.”

I walked towards the door as Steve said, “All The Right Moves is still playing. Ya’know, with your lover boy from Risky Business?” He chuckled as Nancy said, “Yeah, I know.” “Ya’know, Carol thinks I actually kinda look like him.” I watched him move his head from side to side. “What do you think?” He took Nancy’s hand that was still holding the bat and brought the bottom of it to his mouth like a microphone, singing, “Just take those old records off the shelf, I'll sit and listen to ‘em by myself…”

I remember when Steve and I used to sit in his room and listen to records, singing along to them and dancing, having a great time. But then he became popular and King Steve, so all that kinda stopped cold turkey.

“I just, I don’t… I don’t think I can,” Nancy answered. “I’ve been really busy with this whole funeral thing and… with my brother. It’s been really hard on him.”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve said. “Sure, yeah, yeah.”

“But, you can take Olivia!”

I nearly choked on my own spit. “Olivia can do what now?”

“You can go hang out with Steve,” she said. “I know it’s been a while since just the two of you hung out.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

I looked at Steve, asking him if it was okay with him. He agreed almost instantly, and asked if I wanted to go right now with him or meet up at the theater. Nancy told him that I would go ahead and go with him.

As I hugged her, she whispered to me that she’d tell me everything she and Jonathan find out about the creature.

I hung out with Steve that night, mind off of everything for a few hours. It was great because I got to hang out with my best friend for the first time in ages. Bad part? Fucking Tommy H. and Carol decided to tag along as well.

I voiced to Steve about how I was getting worried about Dustin. Lying to him and saying that I hadn’t seen him since the funeral.

He was on the way to my house when he took a familiar turn. This was going to be a long night.

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

prev | current chapter | next

season masterlist

series masterlist

series playlist 

~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! so, reason for the late upload is because a baby migraine appeared out of fucking nowhere and my daughter wanted to watch a christmas movie while he ate dinner! i’m am so sorry, but my kids come first!! but, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Note: i know that some of y’all are waiting to see your requests, and i promise i’ll get to them. the writer’s block hit really bad with them. atb is the only thing i have motivation to post for at the moment.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​ @stixnstripesworld​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​ @quanticobae​​​ @mischiefandi​​​ @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​​​​

Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on December 5, 2023 *Happy Birthday, Walt Disney!*

[thedisablednaturalist]

what is your favorite aquatic invertibrate?

THIS is a loaded question. I've kept this in my inbox for a while cause there's SO MANY it's hard to choose. I'm most interested in mollusca and crustacea but those are still large categories.

My favorite mollusk is Dirona albolineata, the frosted alabaster nudibranch. Absolutely gorgeous and come in my favorite color.

I pretty much love all nudibranches though. My second favorite would have to be sea butterflies, they're so weird!

And of course the animal crossing famous Clione limacina or sea angel

Academically, I'm currently researching freshwater mussels for our reintroduction project. Mussels may not be as flashy as nudibranchs, but they are extremely important for improving water quality in freshwater habitats. It's hard to choose a favorite, but one I've researched the most and have grown fondly of is Alasmidonta varicosa, the brook floater. We are hoping to eventually reintroduce it to it's previous native range. Fun fact, when you pick them up out of the water, they stick their "tongue" (foot) out.

I literally had the species name written on my giant whiteboard in the office for a few months so my boss would keep seeing it since I really wanted us to use it as a flagship species to design our reintroduction project around. Fast forward and we've gotten a grant and things are progressing nicely.

Anyway on the crustacea side that's an even harder choice. I'm always excited to see aquatic isopods and scuds. I'm probably most fond of Malacostraca (amphipods, isopods, decapods, etc.) and Branchiopoda (clam, fairy, and tadpole shrimp, and water fleas). Do not make me pick one I am unable to. I will say I have a particular soft spot for crayfish as they are the organisms I've had the most one-on-one time with (I literally have a pet crayfish named Mr Pinchy). I just love anything with pinchers (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）≧〔゜゜〕≦

First crayfish I ever held doing it's little defensive stance of Shake Em Like You Just Don't Care. Just take a look at it's mouth! The mouthparts are so cool! I love watching Mr. Pinchy eat.

My favorite macroinvertebrate would hands down be Corydalus, aka Hellgrammites, which are the larval form of Dobsonflies. I have yet to see an adult dobsonfly in person, but have been told they're terrifying and not very nice. We shall see about that. Hellgrammites are simply angry pathetic overdramatic babies and while people say they bite I've held plenty and never been bit. They will absolutely go for the other bugs in the tray so you do have to keep them in a separate container. We've lost a couple of caddisfly larvae to the jaws of the mighty hellgrammite.

Just look at it! Here's a video where I'm trying to get a good shot of it's gills (those frilly things on its underside). They roll into a defensive ball which is so endearing. I also love anything that can curl into a ball. I think they're absolutely adorable but most people tend to disagree with me ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

TDLR I love all aquatic invertebrates so very much. I didn't even get into shrimp or coral or starfish! They make me so happy I actually have to limit how much I read about them in a day because my emotions get too big and cause me to become hyper (which is a bad combo for fibromyalgia). I'm not great at remembering information so I get to constantly relearn and rediscover things which is a blessing and a curse. This also makes taxonomy especially hard for me so let me know if I messed up somewhere.

[daisychainsandbowties]

Hi Cas 🐸❤️ 1, 19, 40 pwease 👀

1. which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

see part of me wants to say star wars au because that’s the only fic that actually has a basic plot. 99% of what i write i maybe on a good day have some idea of how a particular scene will flow, but even that’s liable to get attacked by flashback ghosts at any moment and ripped to non-chronological shreds.

i don’t plan my fics out at all because that makes the act of writing… less interesting to me. usually what i have are some concept designs in my head or a few lines of dialogue or a little scene-hinge (these are the topics i end up researching for a given scene or a mote of information i want to slip inside, and the scene hinges thematically on that. all my poems are hinged like this and it has translated over into my prose, apparently).

still, i want to say star wars au because it was certainly supposed to be more direct and “paced”than it is now. i know that i could write a story like that but also that i don’t really want to. so, probably in truth i wouldn’t rewrite any of my fics, just as i would never scrap a poem and try to write the same poem again; it’s already a different poem. something something the small deaths that cannot be divorced from art change all future versions of that art. sentences are haunted by excised words. you can’t write anything except for the first time.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

Lilith rests her arms on the railing, heedless of splintery wood or the cold spray that ghosts up the hull to touch the inside of each palm. It’s hard not to think of her as beautiful, even with lichen growing down out of her hairline and that sand-tangled mass of dark hair falling down around her face, hiding one of her eyes.

She’s blinking at the sunset with the other and fiddling with one of her braids.

Bright fabric threaded through them, like a mockery of what she is; a leaky creature of moonlight always tucked up in the crow’s nest where nothing can touch her but the wind. Lilith’s odd like that – dressed in her usual off-white shirt all flea-bitten where the collar’s rucked up around her neck. She thinks it makes her look boyish, derring.

It does, and it’s wasted on her because she will not put one foot onto land.

Mostly the braids are done in orange and yellow, with here and there a twist of sea-green, unearthly blue. No black or grey or anything drab. Lilith likes to shine.

She’s put random objects in her braids again. Beatrice thinks she spends half her time up in the masts with her face angled toward the sky and her own hands in her own hair. Its decoration changes from week to week, port to port if she can beg seashells and pottery bits from the other sailors, but it's always some variation on noisy.

This week, she’s got a wick of terracotta hanging down near her collarbone, neatly tied up in split-ends. Her damp black hair is elsewhere tangled around the bleached-white of rat bones stolen from the sailors who supplement their diet with spitted rats. Beatrice pretends not to see their little fires in the lowers decks at night, so long as they're careful.

The tiny bones look almost fake to Beatrice, picked much too clean. She knows that real bones – the ones she’s seen from compound fractures and old skeletons hanging from the seaward gallows – don’t look like that.

Maybe she just never waits long enough, always tasting the whiplash of blood in her mouth when she climbs up the cliffs near the fort to reach the bodies strung up. Statement pieces still dressed in their dying clothes and the flesh dropping off them to spray apart on stones before scattering into the water far below. Ropes creaking, Beatrice underneath with her knife stuck between her teeth once or twice forgetting to make the blade face outward and almost cutting a fresh smile into her face.

Mostly she just nicks her lip as she grabs the handle, fingers slippery with saltwater and sweat, rainwater turning the blade to ice against her teeth. Sometimes there are soldiers watching, but it’s easy to snuff them with a spell for sleep, shrugging at the thought of one of them falling on the spears they carry to poke intruders off the rocks.

The climb isn’t easy. Not ever, no matter the kind of cliffs she scrambles up. Beatrice is not made for it or anything but the bad feeling of magic in her mouth, but she was born half-martyred, according to Mary.

“I think you like it.”

“What?”

“The opportunity to fucking fall.”

Her arms always ache during the climb, fingers stinging from small slices worked into the palms, scrimshawed across the knuckles from stuffing them into holds, ignoring the skitter of spiders running in confusion out onto her wrist when she disturbs their webs.

Muttering “sorry” into the wind so it’s carried up and over the creaking bodies with their flesh dripping down, sometimes a ribbon of rotten blood falling on her scalp as she climbs. Still, she is always half-tempted to lay a kiss on their rotten foreheads, smoothing aside the blistered flesh, the hair flattened against their skulls. Sometimes the hair lasts the longest out of everything.

40. Write a 9-word fic

thank you Daniel. but i would rather die actually :)

[theradicalscrivener]

I was running some numbers on a whim and I had some thoughts about the final* sizes of the CDE dudes.

I had listed vague sizes in the epilogue where Cecil says he's 3 inches but that's just rounded up. I had envisioned him Lego man sized (which is around 2.5 inches.)

Meanwhile, Harvey is listed as shy of a centimeter, but really that overstates it a bit. That's more how he sees himself rather than a scientific number. I had the idea in my head that he ends up at a 1mm to 1 foot ratio. And since I didn't give him an official height (just that he was shorter than Wash by a good margin) I had it in my head that Harvey was 5'10. Meaning he's shy of 6mm.

I mention this because Wash is a bug compared to Harvey. A rough estimate would that if Harvey was full+sized, Wash would be 1mm. (Gnat/flea sized).

Here's where the fun math starts. Harvey is 1/305 his original size. (305mm per foot).

1mm/305 = .003 mm (and some change)

Wash's end size is 3 whole micron. (3μm). For context, a red blood cell is 4μm diameter. Wash could ride one of those like a raft.

40μm is the smallest size that can be seen by the naked eye. This is scifi so we're ignoring that the body would not be able to function at these smaller sizes. (Wash would be super dead if he was smaller than a red blood cell due to the fact that he'd be unable to have any circulation) so we can use these numbers for some fun math.

Flip 40μm based on Harveys size. He should be able to see things at around 0.130μm. The average virus is around 0.020 - 0.200 μm. Meaning that Harvey can see larger viruses with the naked eye.

Wash meanwhile is smaller than most bacteria. Since his height is 3μm the smallest he should be able to see would be 0.0004μm (0.4nm or 400 picos). Atoms range from 100-500 picos. The largest atoms would be like a grain of sand to him. He should be able to see all viruses with the naked eye. They would appear to be the size of spiders to him. Standard house spider size all the way up to some of the big boi viruses being tarantula sized.

[starset21]

Standard Disclaimer: I only own my original characters, I've done some research but there will likely be Navy/military inaccuracies, and I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may be found is on tumblr and Wattpad under @.itswildflower

A/N: This story is heavily inspired by the hallmark movie of the same title and is very self-indulgent. I'm also trying a different format than I'm used to using so it may change in the future chapters.

Looking for the other chapters? U.S.S. Christmas Masterlist 

Summary:  Kate and her family join Jake and his father for dinner with some added company, Kate learns there may be more to just being on the ship with her family.

Chapter 3: Dinner with old friends (and new)

“Ladies, Jackson, welcome. Please, have a seat,” Ron greeted them.

“Oh, my gosh, it looks so beautiful!” Elizabeth complimented.

“Thank you. We take our christmases very seriously on the Polaris,” he grinned.

“How do you decorate something that looks like a rhino in a rainstorm? Not to mention its size. I'm guessing, what… 125 maybe eight-foot Christmas trees laid end to end?” Kate asked.

“Well, I've never quite heard it put that way before,” Ron laughed.

“Kate has quite a way with words sometimes, don't you, darling?” Elizabeth smiled at her daughter.

“Well, the senior chief who runs the post office is in charge of all things Christmas, and he's been here forever,” Ron told her as they took their seats.

“Waste of time if you ask me. Ships are for combat… Not Christmas,” Jake spoke up as he walked in with the woman from the ball from the other door.

“And that is why they start to call him the grinch around Christmas time. Great fighter pilot, but a bit of a Christmas curmudgeon. Oh, forgive my manners. Charlotte, welcome,” Ron greeted.

“Thank you for the invite, Captain,” Charlotte smiled.

“Hmm. This is Elizabeth, Kate, and Jackson. I flew with their father.”

Charlotte nodded. “Nice to meet you all!”

“Charlotte is a successful writer,” Ron told them.

“Oh. What do you write about?” Kate asked.

“Romance. I'm a big traveler, so I find amazing love stories from around the world and turn them into novels,” Charlotte told them.

“Wow, how interesting. You know, I met Jake's mother on a Christmas tiger cruise about 35 years ago,” Ron reminisced.

“Really?” Kate asked.

“Mm-hm. I was a young lieutenant at the time, and Barbara was a college student visiting her brother. How's that for a unique love story?” Ron asked.

“Without the happy ending,” Jake muttered under his breath.

“So your father was looking for Christmas presents for you kids at a flea market in Japan. And he asked the vendor for a doll… Using his best Japanese, of course. Well, she thought he said… "Cat." Well, your father, he was so confused,” Ron told them.

“I remember the little Japanese dolls he got me,” Kate nodded.

“Yeah. He bought you… A kimono, Elizabeth. Pink with flowers, if I recall,” Ron asked her mother and Elizabeth nodded.

“Yeah. He did.”

“It was always your father's mission to find you girls something new and exciting for Christmas. I used to do the same for Jake.”

Jake scoffed. “Most kids find their presents under the tree. Found mine in the mailbox every year.”

Another man in uniform walked in.

“Dan, hey. You made it,” Ron greeted.

“Sorry I missed dinner. I was airborne,” Dan apologized.

“Dan's a pilot, and Charlotte's brother. They're old family friends,” Jake explained.

“Mom said Dan and I needed more quality time together, so here I am on a Navy ship,” Charlotte laughed.

“So you're not…” Kate trailed off.

“Not what? Oh, together? No, no. I love Jake like my own brother. Oh, Dan, that reminds me. We promised mom we'd call her after dinner. I hope you don't mind if we sneak out?” Charlotte asked.

“No, not at all, not at all. Looks like we're finished up anyway,” Ron told her.

“Yeah, I have to work the night shift,” Jackson stood up.

“Oh. Can I come watch you for a bit? Please? I want to see you in action,” Elizabeth asked as she stood too.

“I'd love that, mom. I'll get some coffees to go. Kate, you want to come?” Jackson asked.

“No, I'm kind of tired,” Kate told him and Jackson nodded.

“Thank you so much. It was just perfect,” Elizabeth told Ron as Jackson took her arm to lead her out.

“You're welcome. Uh, Jake, why don't you walk Kate to her stateroom. It's very easy to get lost around here.” Ron told him before leaving the room with Jackson and their mother. 

“Looks like it's just the two of us,” Kate rubbed her hands together.

“Can't believe you thought Charlotte was my girlfriend,” Jake teased.

“Well, I mean, first there was the ball, then she showed up at dinner. I think it's a natural assumption.”

“That makes sense. It's just funny 'cause my dad's always telling me that if I don't meet someone, I'm gonna be alone forever,” Jake snickers.

“My brother tells me the same thing. He say he wants me to find lasting love,” Kate laughs and Jake raises a brow. “Jackson wants me to date an officer, which is not gonna happen. Sorry, it's just that military life is not for me,” she elaborated.

“It's not for everyone,” Jake admits.

“It's pretty amazing, though, that your dad met your mom on a Christmas tiger cruise. Does that happen often?” Kate asked him.

“Wouldn't know. I'm not really focused on that kind of thing. I'm just here to fly my jet and serve this country,” Jake shrugged.

“You said something at dinner about it having an unhappy ending. What did you mean?” Kate asked.

“Nothing. It's not important.” The two of them walked in silence for a moment. “This place is like a giant maze.”

Jake nodded. “Twenty stories high and almost as long as the empire state building is tall. Here we are,” he came to a stop in front of a doorway.

“Wow. Thanks for helping me get back.”

Jake offered her his thousand watt smile. “Just call me your top gun tour guide. Staterooms are in there.”

Kate laughed. “Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow?” She asked.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed before she turned down the corridor to her stateroom and entered it.

“Captain?”

Ron turned from the navigation screens he was looking at the next morning. “Huh. It's Ron. And come on in, please. Hi, Kate, what can I do for you today?” he asked.

“Well, I was thinking about something you said at dinner last night, about meeting your wife on a Christmas tiger cruise,” Kate started.

“Ah, Christmas 1984, yeah. But I should tell you, Barbara and I got divorced a long time ago,” Ron told her.

“I'm sorry. Jake alluded to something at dinner,” she apologized.

“The divorce was tough on him as a kid,” Ron admitted sadly.

“Well, military life is hard on any family,” Kate sympathized.

“I hear you. But, you know, some couples do figure it out. Barbara and I, we weren't the first ones to fall in love on a tiger cruise, you know,” Ron told Kate.

“Do you happen to know anyone that I could maybe talk to about that?” Kate asked.

“I'd have to ask around. Everybody's kind of all over the place these days.”

Kate nodded. It was understandable. “Thanks. There must be such rich history on this ship,” she remarked.

“Well, if you're interested, we do have an archives room. Photos, records. You might find something in there,” Ron told her.

“I'd love to take a look.” Kate smiled.

“What's this for, anyway? A story?” he asked.

“Maybe, I… I don't really know yet,” Kate told him.

“Well, I'd find it interesting. Tell you what, I'll have Jake take you for a look around. He can help you with anything you need.”

Kate raised a brow. “Sir, do you think he's gonna be okay with that? Romance and Christmas?” Kate asked.

“Honestly... No! But it might do him some good.”

Jake happened to walk in just as his dad finished speaking.

“No. I have flight ops, and we're trying to finish all the maintenance logs before the end of the year. I'm too busy, pops,” Jake told him.

“I'll clear your schedule. You get Kate whatever she needs. That's an order, Lieutenant Seresin!” Ron smirked and shot Kate a wink before shooing them away. 

[samble-movedd]

i hope kitty cat is safe and healthy :(

he's been doing okay! hasn't been acting "weird" or had anything happen since.

to recap btw, since i realized that post wasn't super informative:

tiny (the cat) had a seizure yesterday while i was at work. my dad described it as he was on the couch staring at the wall, then flopped over in a "dramatic" way (so my dad thought he was just being goofy at first) then seized for 2-3 minutes. my dad had to get him off the couch because his nails were stuck in the cushion and he didn't want him to break his foot. after this he acted tired for a bit, but by the time i was home hours later, he was perfectly "fine". eating, drinking, playing with the other cats, etc.

i did call the vet after this happened to set up an appt for friday, but my brother told me hours after this (not his fault — he is a child and didn't know animals could have seizures in the usual sense) that the cat apparently had a seizure prior, the day after he briefly got out of the house then returned, which i ofc didn't tell the vet about. so ill have to call tomorrow and inform them (clinic was closed today) in case that changes the urgency.

i did go and toss anything i looked up and found might be even remotely causing it. scent diffusers, his flea collar (albeit it was old/expired, so i don't think it was the problem), etc.

[crimsonmoonlite]

Mini Love Bites - Queer Twilight Mini-Fics - 1. Just Throuple Things - Jacob/Beau/Edward

Links to this minific on AO3 and Wattpad

AN: Unless said so, all of these mini-fics will be silly and campy from this sort of AU. I want to remain under 200 words, but I will be under 500. Be sure to click the links to my AO3 and Wattpad to read my other works!

Everyone is 18+

   Beau whimpered and kicked slightly as he tried to wake up from a nightmare. "Hey... Hey," Edward said softly, cupping his face. He flinched and started to tear up, quickly tackling Edward in a hug. "It's okay, it was just a nightmare," Edward kissed him on the forehead and held him.

   "B-But it was so real," Beau whined.

   "Do you want to talk about it?" Edward questioned.

   "Well, I-I was a girl named Bella, and Jacob and you were fighting over me... I was horrible, I had no personality other than you," Beau said, and Edward raised an eyebrow.

   "Was she hot?" Jacob asked from the foot of the bed where he was curled up. Edward shot him a look to behave while Beau looked at him, overwhelmed.

   "Huh?" Beau glared at him.

   "Were you hot as a girl..." Jake asked like it was obvious.

   "What?" Beau stammered.

   "Am I speaking another language?" Jacob raised an eyebrow, "Did you at least have big titties?"

    "I dunno... I am gay," Beau whined, and Edward pulled him to his chest.

   "Does being gay also make you blind?"

   "Stop freaking him out, Jake," Edward cooed, petting Beau's curly hair out of his face, "It was just a bad dream, okay." Edward kissed his head.

   "Y-Yeah, Okay," Beau sniffled. "But me being a girl didn't scare me. You two hated each other, and it was all because of me." Beau said as Jacob crawled up and kissed him, deciding not to tease him anymore.

   "Well," Edward met Jacob's lips, kissing him, "As much as vampires and werewolves are scary, at least we are not straight and in a love triangle," Edward said.

   "Speak for yourself, icicle ass,"

   "Yeah, okay, Fleabag,"

   "Hey! That is culturally insensitive to werewolves," Jacob snarled, grabbing Edward by the neck; Beau gasped and tried to wedge between them. 

   "Jake, stop!" Beau yelped.

   Edward and Jacob laughed at him and then kissed again, "But seriously... don't say that," Jacob said, a bit sensitive, "Beau dewormed and gave me flea medicine yesterday,"

   "Yeah?" Edward bit his lip as Jacob kissed Beau, "I don't think it worked." Edward laughed

   "Well, it did!" Jake said, and Edward pointed at him, scratching his neck with his foot.

   "Ugh... Jake, I told you to stay still when I was giving you the flea medicine," Beau muttered as Jacob whined like a dog, "C'mon, I'll hose you down again out back."

   "Fuck yeah! let's go for a walk too!" Jake jumped off the bed and shifted, howling as he ran to the back.

   "Jake! I've told you a million times not to shift until we get outside!" Beau groaned. Please Comment, Vote, and add this story to your reading lists. Check out my full length fics and my One Shot collection under 'Love Bites'

AO3

Mini Love Bites - Queer Twilight Mini Fics - Chapter 1 - crimsonmoonlite - Twilight Series - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Wattpad

Mini Love Bites - Queer Twilight Mini Fics - 1. Just Throuple Things - Jacob/Beau/Edward - Wattpad