#and I wanted unicorns and rainbows and pink so that’s what I gave myself

[xiaq]

B and I both have twin daybed-to-king pullouts in our offices so we can convert them into guest rooms. We have family coming into town today and I think you can probably guess whose office will be hosting the adults and whose will be hosting the kids for the long weekend. 😂���💕 (+bonus Deacon)

[blu3b3rryj4mp1r3]

Im making art 4 u!!

Do u have a persona/oc i could use as reference? Or maybe just ur hair + eye color + sense of style (what you find comfortable for sleeping or laying around in !) ?

(/Not forcing)

wow thank you!! that's so sweet!!! I actually didn't have one before but after reading your ask I felt inspired so I tried making one! it took a few days because of how I'm feeling at the moment, but I think I managed to make something I'm pretty happy with (though details might change in the future) they're kind of a combination of pinkie pie, fluttershy and me (like my username haha, which I guess is their name too now? 🤔)

I gave them a hairstyle similar to how I wear my hair irl and added in some brown into their pink mane, since my natural hair is brown

their eyes are also blue like mine

cake batter yellow fur & hair sprinkles 'cause I like to bake (pinkie does too of course 🤭)

bows & details in similar shades as the blue I use for rainbow dash because she's awesome and I love her

strawberry socks because 1. love fun socks & 2. strawberry is my favourite fruit & flavour & 3. duh. I litterally love strawberries so much I named myself after them!! >♡<

they have fake fairy wings sometimes because same and also earthpony + pegasus who lives on the ground... idk kinda made sense to me at least

cutie mark is a crayon being lifted by balloons because childish + creativity + love to make ponies smile by doing what they love

likes to wear: mane charms, fun socks, childish princessy things (but sometimes I wear a bit more gender neutral clothes if I'm feeling particularly dysphoric) that one blue unicorn onesie because it's been my favourite thing to wear since I was 12 and I stopped growing when I was about 12 or something so I never grew out of it lol!

loves soft blankets, stuffies, pigs & anything fun and childish!

thank you so much for making me inspired to make a ponysona/oc! I've always thought about it, but never really tried, I had SO much fun making this and it really brightened my mood despite the bad circumstances I find myself in currently. 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷!!!

p.s. and of course if you still want to make something, you can make them human too, haha I just assumed we were talking about ponies but when reading your ask again I realize that might not have been the case 🤭

♡ ˢᶠʷ ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ♡

[belog-grada-crna-princeza]

even if i do recover from my illness and even if things ever do get better and i survive this and don't k1ll myself in the near future.. even if i stop being depressed. even if all my dreams come true by some miracle. i will never. EVER. forget. because i thought i knew hell but i didn't before this. this world we live in is hell. believe me. no matter what social media shows you with the gummy lollipop pinky pink rainbows and unicorns. nope. there is so much evil, injustice and cruelty that can never be forgiven.

like that quote: “If there is a God, He will have to beg for my forgiveness.”

i can never unsee what i've seen and unknow what i know and it has forever killed my innocence and changed me as a person. i have seen how "loved ones" leave you at your worst. how people abandon you because you cant do anything for them anymore. how they say you're not alone and they're there for you but it's just pretty words. how medical professionals and mental health system and every institution hurts people and can't be trusted. how it's every man for himself. how people avoid you when you're in pain because youre "bringing them down". how society turns away their heads from everything unpleasant and just pretends it's all good. how all fights for justice don't amount to any sustainable progress and millions suffer every day for no reason. how full of spite and envy and ill-will people are. how most of them judge you too easily if you dont fit some rulebook they've invented for you. how no one actually has empathy for one another even though it's the most popular f*cking word these days and everyone is an Empath. how people say things that make them sound good but never actually follow through.

i am sick of talking. i googled a step by step how to successfully un1liv3 myself (i even have to censor these fuck*ng words now) bc i failed in the past and i don't want to be stopped this time and they gave me.. su1cid3 lines to call. i laughed. what a joke! talk to who?????? tell them WHAT????? be put on some sh*tty ass drugs or in some stupid institution just to go back to this hell. i dont want to be brainwashed. even if things get better i can NEVER forget what the world actually is and what society is.

i will never forget and i will always know. f*ck your fake positivity and brainwashing with nicely wrapped up lies. the world is f*cked up

[underlandsbooksntea]

My party consists of a Rainbow Leopard who is a Bard, a Baset who is a Barbarian, a Huntress who is a uniquely styled Mage, and myself a Pink Fiend who is an Artificer. Not going to lie we make quit the little party. We are small and the only main fighter amongst us is Topaz, though that's only what people see on the surface. I'm actually a brawler type too myself. I've made this amazing gloves that pack an amazing whallup if I do say so myself. Only Topaz, Kuzara, and Gem know just how fiesty I really am. Not to mention among the three of us.... I'm a Lo. You may be asking what's a Lo? Well in this world of Tentacle Kittys we are characterized by our stature in size, species color, and name. I am what is known as a Pink Fiend Lo, we are smaller than normal Tentacle Kittys (TK for short) and we have fewer tentacles as well. However what we lack in size we make up in great force! There are more Lo's than normal sized TKs, but that's all because of a weird phenomenon caused by the two deities Jhon and Rea. We Lo's owe a lot to those two! They are actually the deities of all us TKs but I think they secretly favor us Lo's.

Today, we decided to head to a new village. If I recall, the name was… ‘La vista?’ No….umm darn, I forgot. Well, it can’t be helped I wasn’t really paying attention to Gem when she was telling us about it. I was really tired and when she talks she has the habit of singing EVERYTHING. So she is constantly singing, there is no in-between for that kitty. Kuzara is also another eccentric being within our group, apparently after spending some time with a charming Pirate Kitty she decided to wear a hat just like his, albeit a more feminine one. Gem, Topaz, and I were both in complete giggles when we saw her and couldn’t hold on to our cotton candy mice. Thanks to that day we lost the new specialty of that regions cotton candy mice, the Carmel apple. I digress though.

The tavern we ended up coming to was called “The cuddly rat taild unicorn.” Weird. Oh! And the town we came to was called LaCassa, so close enough. The inside smelled like wassel, the sweet scent was mixed in with a sort of elderberry.… Oh that’s right we need to check in and check the boards to see if there is a quest to complete.

“Welcome young travelers! I’m Discord the humble barkeep of the cuddly rat taild unicorn.What may I do for you?“

“We would like a room for 4 please. Also some of that amazing smelling wassel please.”

I responded to the friendly Huntress TK in front of me. I smirked as he gave Kuzura a curios look before he went about getting things ready for us. It didn’t take long before we all had a nice cup of wassel to quench our thirst from the long journey. It tasted great but there was that interesting elderberry flavor I smelled in the air.

“HEY YOU! PINK FIEND! YOUR UNDER ARREST!”

A loud voice boomed aggressively behind us. Turning around we all gazed at three large Gurus. The one who had spoken was Red and looked extremely ticked off. I wonder what his problem is? Wait didn’t he say I was under arrest? Umm what??? While I was trying to wrap my head around what he had said, Topaz stood up and got infront of him.

“Pardon me sir but I think you got the wrong Pink Fiend. My friend has done nothing for you to try and take her into custody.”

“OH YEA?! THEN WHAT ABOUT THIS THEN?!”

Taking a poster from one of the other Gurus he shoves it into Topazs face. Topaz takes it with a snort and looks at it. Shock flickerd across her face as she saw her companion Gidget on the wanted poster. Except this Gidget had a malicious grin on her face and her gauntlets were on backwards, but despite that it looked like their Gidget. Turning around she passes the flier to Gem, then Kuzara, and finally me. Holding the poster with trembling tentacles I saw my face on it. My face? Rage bubbled up inside… oh no how dare it? Turning towards the Red Guru who had a condensending look on his face I handed him the poster back.

“Looks like I’ve been mimicked sir, however I’ll gladly join you in apprehending them.”

The red Guru looked at me with slight confusion then at his men then back toward me.

“YOUR SAYING THIS IS NOT YOU?”

Gem and Kuzura stand up and nod their heads in confirmation while Topaz and I give him this yea look.

“FINE YOU CAN COME WITH US BUT IF YIUR LYING AND ARE…..”

He didn’t even finish as Topaz hissed at him.

“She has been with us for the past several months. We know she is not the one your looking for! Let’s just go to the last place spotted so that we can clear her chracter.”

With that said we left along with the Red Guru and his men, heading towards lonely valley. Just wait you darn mimic I thought as the sun slowly sank below the treeline. Just you wait....

[oh-for-fic-sake]

What is August going to do if his little decides to play with his forbidden knife collection? :3

Omg so this took a while and i'm sorry but im sooo happy with this! It got a little long so im hidig it under a cut but i hope you enjoy! @littlefreya @viking-raider

August swore vehemently looking around for the blades he'd sharpened specifically for his next assignment.

This needed to be silent and precise, he'd sharpened each blade twice! Not once but twice!

He wouldnt even attempt his 'arm hair' shave test this time knowing he may have gone over board with the sharpening.

But he couldnt help it, he found it therapeutic running his hands over the blades again and again, it was like medatation for him.

But they were no where to be seen! Hed placed them each delicatly in the rolled travelling leather holster, useing the small poppers to lock each dangerous blade in place and then hid it in the small safe in the wardrobe.

"Baby girl! LITTLE ONE HAVE YOU BEEN IN THE SAFE?!" He shouted down the stairs only not to get an answer, the radio on the kitchen drowning him out.

You were baking, well 'bakeing' he had bought a 'unicorn gingerbread box kit' for you both to make today.

It was a small treat he would spend the day with you doing anything your little heart desires befor setting off onto his week long mission.

You were currently rolling out the gingrbread and he had decided to sneak his weapons into his bag while you were preoccupied.

August never liked rubbing innhis occupation with you, never liked faceing the awkward questions, he wont lie to you but in being truthfull he can sometimes frighten you.

In the bedroom he was as ruthless and rough and demanding as he was at work.

But like this when you were little, you drew out a softer side. Well as soft as he was capable of, he was a stern man in everything he did, even in daddying you.

August huffed and zipped his case violently stressing out he needed to go down and pversee ou before you did something foolish, like tried to put the gingerbread in the oven.

Your panicked hyperventilating and bitten 9ff screams drew his attention immediatly!

He bolted down the stairs as fast as he could, so panicked by the cries and screams from the kitchen he raced through the housestomping and crashing with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.

Oh hell.

He froze, face paling mouth agape as he took in the scene.

Then he roared in a way you'd never heard.

You cowered holding your hand tightly as it bled profusely red life blood poured all over the white counter ruining the sheet pan dusted with what was once pure white flour.

The blood was also over the rolled out gingerbread, along with a very familiar knife.

You cried and staggered over you august holding your wound tightly tripping over your feet to him, wandering blindly unable to see much through your tears. Or hear past your frantic crying and yelps of "daddy!?"

August quickly decended on you grasping a teatowel from the laundry basket on the counter and tookover holding your offered wounded hand whislts snappjng at you in worry fueled anger.

"What the fuck are you dojng with that!? They are daddies special knives! You know not to touch thwm you silly little girl!"

"I'm s-so-rry! OUCH, NO-OO DAD-DY IT HURTS!" You cried out complaining as he dabbed the wound inspecting it.

It wasnt to deep just long, across the whole of your palm. He could tell your slipped and probably didnt evwn notice youd cut yourself untill it'd sliced fully across.

He'd sharpened them that much.

"You will be! By god little lady you will ne so very very sorry when im done woth you!"

"Come on sit down before you pass out and bleed all over the kitchen" he said tying a knot in two corners ot the teatowle making a triangle like a sling and looped it around your palm then fetched a wooden spoon slotting it in the large opening and began twisting it tight making a tourniquet.

You hissed as he pulled the clother thighter and tighter then slipped the wooden spoon into your fingers holding the teatowel still, before raising your hand high letting gravityhelp slow the bleeding.

"Now hold that there, dont you move, w need to stop the bleeding so i can mend it" he snipped grunting to himself. He wasnt worried as such, it looked worse than it was he had tended to worse on himself.

"Y-you can fix it da-ddy?" You sobbed tryi g to be brave but you were shaking like a leaf, youd never bled that much before.

"Yes daddy can fix it poppet, daddy can always fix it" he said quickly pulling out his... vast medic kit that was fully stocked to deal with everything from burns and cuts to bullet woulds and decapitated fingers. Because ou never know.

"A-are you mad da-addy?!" You whined eyes wide as he huffed and sighed dragging his hands through hos hair irritated

"Im not angry im very very disappointed. And you can bet your little ass is gonna be meeting that spoon shortly!" He said vehemently trying to calm himself and remind himself it wasnt too serious and he could deal with this cut.

You didnt even argue just looked down, dropping your watery eyes to the floor like a kicked puppy, and it wasnt even to soften him either.

"Why were you touching daddies private things?" He spoke tyring to take both his and your mind off your wound as he located everything he needed from the box.

"A'cos i wa-nted to see...they were shiney after you were polishin'em" you explained hicupping slowly weeping still as the pain and throbbing set in.

"I was sharpening them poppet, not polishing" he uttered quickly with a sigh trying to find a quaze big enough to wrap in a bandage.

"I just wanted to see... Never gon' touch" you sobbed bijng your lip eyes flickingnup the the now red teatowel, your figers were going a ittle numb from the tight tourniquet.

"And then?" He asked quirking a brow as you before waling to the kitchen sink washing and rinsing the washing up bowl thoroughly befpre filling with fresh warm water and a new clean cloth.

"Then the box said cut round the unicorns with a knife... And I already got it out to look at" you said shrugging a little as he moveed down your hand. Luckily the bleedig had stopped.

"I also says let and adult do it" your daddy chided as he slowly and gwntly unwrapped your hand making our fingers sting a little at the renewed bloodflow

"Im an-adult" you argued weakly then hissed as he begancleani g the wound dabbig it ever so lightly knowig he had to use clean water instead of antiseptic that could slow the healing of the delicate skin.

"Your a baby" he said with a roll of his eyes 'a spoilt baby' he added as an after thought to himself.

"...but im carful never cut myself with my big girl knives!" You agrued then gasped giving a small 'uh oh' you mouth had run away with you again.

"You mean the kitchen knives?" August asked quickly coming down on the new information like a... well hammer on a land mine.

"No... my saftey knives daddy" you uttered under your breath hissing as he moved on to the next stage of tending to your wound pressing the gauze to it.

"What do you mean your safety onives little one?" He said paying close attention to the bandages he was unravling over your hand trying to keep it firm but comfortable.

"My safety knives... i-in my purse?... Incase of baddies" you whispered slowly praying he wouldnt hear you. But his fingers paused for a second before quickly tying off the bandage in a knot and gave you a fierce look.

"You have knives in your?- wait hold-" august frowned and held a hand up singnalling you to stay then left the kitchen.

He returned moments later and emptied your pjrse only to growl shaking his had as a plethora of 'cute' weapons fell out. Hello kitty switch blades, rainbow blades, pink pocket knives and suspicious looking comb, key knives, pen knives you name it! There was even a ... cat keyring obviously meant to be some sort of pointy eared knuckle duster.

"Really poppet? Knives and... knuckle dusters- these are" he began scolding you but you cut him off

"I know i know daddy im sorry-" your apology was halted as your daddy spoke over you in a warning to e, he didnt like being interrupted.

"No where near good enough! These are all close range! If your close enough to use these then your already fucked! No you need pepperspray and a tazer!" He growled quickly picking up the feeble knives that had no grip to them, and wasnt ever sharp!

"T-tazer?" You stuttered tiltinnyour head cradling your injured hand to your chest.

"Yes, they are close range but will stop any attacker in their tracks! You can get away whilst your attacker is convulsing and laying in a pool of his own piss!" August growled becoming more and more aggravated as he realised you had now real way of protecting yourself when he wasnt around, big or little!

"Im getting you a tazer- today! Before i leave" he decided nodding to himself as he binned the now soiled teatowel and wash cloth.

"...can i have a pink one daddy?" You asked not being the slightest bit against having a tazer, it would make you feel alot safer then a knife.

Knives needed a proper opening and some brute force to protect you and could really really hurt someone!

A tazer was just a button and could work nomatter where ou hit the baddy and would kill them just make em gall over and pee.

"You can have a pink one princess... or a lipstick one or a tampon one?" Auguast suggested trying to thinl of the best one for you... he was sure a smaller discreet one whould be better than a law enforcement grade.

"That sounds uncomfortable daddy..." you uttered shuddering at the thought of that... being mistaken.

"Its not really a- fuck it... Right come on lets get in the living room you can go pick a tazer online" he said beginni g to pack up the first aid kitpillig everthing neatly into the box.

"O-okay... but no spankies daddy... I'm hurt" you warned cautiously waving your bandaged hand

"Yes spankies! Absolutly spankies! You take this spoon with you and you can pop it on the table as a reminder!" He ordered holding you with a level gaze blue eyes warning you to do as you were told.

"But my hand-" you said sniffling cradling it.

"Will be the least of your problems when I'm tanning your naughty butt! Now go or else" he threataned clipping the first aid box shut still watching you, staring unblinkingly.

"Or else what-" you started but your daddy was havig none of it and cut you off again.

"There is a silicone butter icing spreader in this kitchen that will be much worse than thw wooden spoon! Now get in the living room befpre i make you find it" he growled not about to let you throw a paddy about getting your ass blistered after the stunt you pulled.

Your lower lip wobbled but yu nodded giving up, plucking the wooden spoon and turning around leaing the kitchen in a walk of shame muttering a tiny 'yes daddy, sorry daddy'

Auguast watched with a stern face, before turning his attention to the bloody kitchen he will clean before coming to deal with you.

A good fifteen mineut wait will let you have time to reflect before he comes in and tans you hide.

[jasmehraj]

This is for Flashpoint week 2020, day 1, hosted by @maribatgetin

"*Sigh* this is the third time in this week." The man whose body was half machine rubbed his human temple when the guard informed him of the arrival of-

His train of thought was cut by the sound of heels indicating the arrival of his guest.

"Mrs. Allen." He greeted her.

She shot him a smile. "Victor."

"It's Cyborg for you mam." She ignored what he said and continued to pull out a box.

"Here are some cookies and macaroons for you and I gave some to the receptionist to distribute so that you don't have to share." Cyborg smiled and took the box. This was the favourite part of her visit. Her treats were heavenly. He scolded himself to get distracted and wore a tough expression.

"So what did we do for the goddess of fluff and happiness to come here and meet us." There was a moment that something flashed in her Bluebell eyes but it was gone before he could decipher it.

"We both know what it is." She stated, the smile on her face never flattering.

Oh boy, this is going to be a long day. He sighed.

Even after 15 minutes, nobody had come out of the office. The conversation was either casual or not there at all since they couldn't hear anything from the outside.

"What do you think Joe? What's taking them so long?" Michael, the guard at the door looked at his partner.

"I don't know, she is a very calm and collected lady. They say she delivers rainbows wherever she goes, some unicorn in disguise." Joe just joked, shrugging, which caused Michael to raise an unimpressed eyebrow.

"I don't think so, she must be some witch in disguise who made her way to the top seducing other rich people. I mean she's got looks and a perfect body, anybody will pay a fortune to kiss those lips." Michael licked his lips subconsciously.

"I gotta say that too. That Allen guy is very lucky. But I don't think she is some whore. She cares deeply about everyone around her. I say she will even apologize to a pole to bump into her." Joe didn't like the lust in his partner's brown eyes or the way he was insulting everyone's favourite person who treats them with so much respect.

"Hmm. I say she is some Amazonean who will seduce the soldiers and then after having some fun, kill them like the witch she is." The brunette on his side frowned.

"Okay, enough of that s*** Michael-" the raging guard was cut off by a loud sound of something colliding with the table from inside. Everyone went near to be able to hear the heated conversation.

"MRS. ALLEN, we can't just take random people in!" Cyborg tried.

"So random people are crazy enough to be wanting to fight alongside 'the supposed to be heroes' in a world ending war." Her blue eyes sparkled with joy as she raised the glass of water to her lips.

"No Mrs. Allen. I- the president won't approve of us endangering civilians?" Cyborg tried again but it sounded like a question.

What happened next surprised everyone. The sunshine incarnate woman's ever lasting smile fell and she narrowed her eyes at tin man.

"Try again." A nervous look took over Cyborg's face.

"Tell me why you are trying to keep me away this bad?" She spoke every word clearly as if she was talking to a kid.

"You don't have any superpowers." A gasp escaped her naturally pink lips.

"So this is what this all is about? I'm not a meta, so I'm not good enough." She made hand gestures as she talked.

Cyborg looked troubled. Everybody knew not to start an argument with Marinette Allen because it would be over before it even got started.

"It sounds bad if you put it like that-"

"Soldiers are made from strong will, determination, their dedication to the cause." She slammed her hand on the table. "You can't expect everyone to become like you."

Cyborg hit his thigh in annoyance, "Mam, we are just trying to protect you!"

Marientte opened her mouth to say something but Michael bursted in having enough of their conversation.

"Why can't you just shut the f*** up and leave? You are just a billionaire wanting to take credit of the work we do while we will be stuck protecting your a** instead of fighting the real enemies. This isn't some video game! This is real life. You want to seduce the soldiers into turning away from their real goal but that ain't happening. Go f*** your daddy dear in that little castle of yours. Your money ain't going to get you past us. If you want to I can-" The Glass of water in her hand was now laying on the ground in pieces.

Before anyone knew, Michael was on the floor struggling to get up as the ravenette put her heel on the man's chest who was desperately trying to get up.

"How. Dare. You?" Her tone sent chills down everyone's backs. Michael felt sweat run down his forehead.

"A piece of advice. Do a background check before you assume things about a person. I was born to two middle class bakers in Paris, who I saw burn in front of my eyes at the age of 10. I survived on the streets. Made money by fixing clothes. Paid my school fees myself. Got sold at the age of 15, nobody came to help me. I helped myself. I raised to the top with my sole hard work. The only trustworthy person I have in my life is my husband. And you don't wanna know how much I'm trained, this was just what I learnt while living on the streets. What you are doing is your duty. Don't think of yourself as high and mighty for doing your duty which looks like you need practice in."

She glared at the speechless guard once more. She made her way to the door and everyone parted to give her some space having seen her wrath. She stopped at the door and without looking back said,

"You are saying that you are not taking me in because I don't have superpowers and going out without powers on my own is a crime-"

"I didn't-" She raised her hand to stop him.

"-which makes me a villain-" She looked at her side but not at the paralyzed cyborg.

"-Then I guess I am a villain." With that she made her way towards her car, not even sparing a glance at the star-stuck expression of the people around her.

She relaxed in her driving seat. She knew one thing. She is not going back in there. She sighed and traced the steering wheel with her fingers. Yes, she is a billionaire but she doesn't want a driver, at least not after the last three times she hired a driver due to her busy days who just gave her off to some random mob-boss for money.

She opened the pocket watch Barry gave her and smiled fondly at the picture of her husband. When she met him, she kicked him in the shin and how the tables have turned. She chuckled.

The alarm brought her out of her daze. "It's time to pick Barry up."

She smirked when the engine roared to life and slammed her heel into the accelerator. The world is coming to an end anyways, why not have some fun?

Taglist: @nathleigh @jalaluvsu @togetherwekill @stackofrandomstuff @qualitypeacepainter @greatcatblaze @shewhorises-tjyj @myazael

[hankwritten]

No Thru Traffic

Gen, 1k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 6: Parade

“I’m really sorry Administrator,” I coughed into my tissue. “It really is- achoo-! It really is that bad. But at least it came after I got all that work done yesterday, right?”

The slightly pixelated Administrator on the other end of the Zoom call did not chime in in agreement. She narrowed her eyes, and I swallowed, hoping the sweat beading down the side of my face added to the charade.

After several tense seconds, the Administrator said, “very well. But I expect you early tomorrow morning to make up for the lost contracts.”

“Oh d-definitely,” I sniffed. “I’m sure it’ll be c-cleared up by tomorrow,”

“It better be. Administrator out.”

Her face hung frozen for a half second before the call dropped, replaced by a black void on my screen. I cautiously closed the webcam cover, just in case.

Then, I flew into a frenzy, wiping off the makeup I’d used put fake bags under the eyes. From my nose I removed two stubs of tissue, and took in a glorious breath now that I was freed from stuffy-nostrils. The sweat was real though. I’d never lied to the Administrator before, never to her face, and the sudden adrenaline as I realized what I’d just pulled off threatened to jitter me out of my skin.

“Yes!” I said, punching the air. “Ha! I did it!”

The exultation was short lived, as my head whipped to where my laptop was still sitting open. The call was over but…better be extra safe and power that off before I go.

I changed out of the grubby, sick-girl pajamas, and went to my closet. Habitually, my hand went to one of my numerous purple tops, but stopped just short of the hanger. Was this what I was going to wear, today of all days? Same boring work clothes I did for the other three hundred sixty-four days a year? I drew my hand back and frowned.

Screw it. Who knew when the next time I’d work up the nerve to do this again?

I began shoving hangers aside, heavy with their deep whooshing as I sorted through dozens and dozens of painfully similar button downs. Sometimes there was even a dress! How original! So I just kept searching and searching until-

There! Right at the back: an orange Hawaiian shirt I’d worn exactly once, back when I’d been forced to take my government mandated vacation. I pulled it on with gusto.

The tangles came free from my hair—I hadn’t brushed it yet that morning in order to give it that “sickly” look—and then I was in front of the bathroom mirror. Biting my lip, I looked down at the facepaints I’d bought on an impulse, thinking at the time I could paint little flags on my cheeks, but now that the time was upon me I wondered if it was too much. Already I was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, how much more wild was I willing to get?

But, well, since I’d already bought them…

Fifteen minutes later, I examined myself in the mirror again, and gave a relieved sigh. Hadn’t managed to smudge a thing!

Sensible shoes, my bus pass, and then I was off.

The parade was vibrant, so much better in person instead of looking at YouTube clips later and sighing wistfully. My first day off to coincide with it ever, and all I’d had to do was a little office subterfuge. Now, as long as I didn’t end up in any photos, no one would know I’d been here at all! Everything was going to be absolutely-

“-Oof, entschuldigung, I did not see you there.” The man who’d just bumped into me adjusted his glasses. “Miss Pauling?”

“Medic?” I gaped. “What are you doing here?”

“I am here for the parade of course,” he said, gesturing around. He was dressed for it, his usual vest replaced with one of horizontal rainbow stripes. “As are you, I assume.”

“Yes but,” I stumbled over my words. “What about work?”

“Ah, the Voice? I simply told her I was sick.”

I felt my spirits sink. “Did you now.” I rubbed my face, only remembering to avoid the facepaint at the last second. “It’s fine. Great to see you actually. As long as no one else recognizes us I’m sure we’re-”

“Doktor! Miss Pauling!”

“Aw jeez.”

Pushing through the crowd to greet them was the Heavy Weapons Guy—even worse, Engie appeared to be tagging along behind him, discussing a brochure with a unicorn-costume clad Pyro.

“Did not expect to see you here,” Heavy said as he made it to our side of the street. “Thought little Pauling must work.”

“Could say the same to you guys!” I said, irritation creeping into my voice. “Don’t tell me you all just played hookey together?”

“Naw,” Engie replied. “Didn’t know any of these fellers were coming until we all ran into each other.”

“This is bad,” I began to titter. “If we’re here, then who’s at the office?”

“…Is this a bad time to tell you that Demo ‘n Soldier are coming at us from down the street?”

I whipped around. Sure enough, there they were: Soldier with rainbow-striped American flag tied around his shoulders, and Demo with his afro dyed a deep commitment to purple.

“Ahhhhh!” I couldn’t help but let out. “Why did you all have to skip work at the same time as me?”

“We all wanted to come to the parade, lass.” Then, noting my distress, Demo added with a wink, “don’t fret! The old woman won’t know a thing. Currently, I’m home in bed with the measles.”

“The measles,” I deadpanned. I turned to our now rather obstructing group. “And what did the rest of you say?”

“Gingivitis,” Soldier offered.

“Chicken pox.”

“Halitosis.”

“Cat Scratch Fever,” Scout said, taking a bite from a hot dog.

“Scout!” I demanded. “When did you get here?”

He shrugged. “Don’t blame me, I was just following Spy, seeing why he was sneaking around and crap.”

“And I told you,” Spy’s voice replied, “that I was merely following the bushman and seeing what he was up to.”

“Wankers.”

Maybe I should just stop turning around. Then my coworkers would have to stop randomly appearing behind me, right?

“That’s literally everyone,” I berated them all. This time, when I rubbed my palms under my glasses, I did end up smudging the paint, streaks of white and pink running up my cheeks. “Uhg, we’re so screwed. What is the Administrator going to think when she walks in to the office and sees-”

“Absolutely no one?”

Okay. It looked like I’d have to turn around in a horrified manner one more time.

The Administrator parted the crowd around her, not the least because her shoulder pads threatened to stab anyone who got too close. Everyone shrank before her, except for Heavy maybe because I don’t think he has it in him to shrink before anyone.

“Helen,” I started, then cleared my throat. “I guess you uh…took a guess where we all went huh?”

“That I did.” She blinked down at her employees. “I must say I am disappointed. Of course, I expect something like this from these idiots, but from you Miss Pauling? Couldn’t even engineer a decent structural emergency in order to justify shirking your work. At the very least you could have flooded the building, or released feral opossums into the ventilation.”

“HEY NOW,” Soldier barked from the back of the group. “Have you been reading my itinerary? Because it very clearly says SOLDIER’S DAY PLANNER, DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU ARE SOLDIER OTHERWISE I WILL KILL YOU!”

“…Are you saying you wanted me to fabricate an emergency?” I asked, perplexed.

“It would at least have been more convincing than nine separate emails from my employees, all claiming different maladies. One of which was,” she looked at her phone, “‘A Case of the Mondays’.”

“It is actually proven that worker productivity is up to thirty-three percent lower at the beginning of the week,” Medic justified.

The Administrator stared at him. “It’s Thursday.”

“Alright, alright,” Engineer butt in. “I think we can all agree that we may have messed up a little. Told a few harmless lies about medical issues we may or may not have. But that ain’t exclusive to Miss P here! We all’ve been lying ‘round here, and it ain’t fair to single her out.”

“The laborer is right,” Spy agreed. “The blame should fall on all of us.”

One by one, to my amazement, the others spoke up, or nodded in agreement. When I glanced up at the Administrator again, she had an eyebrow raised, as though I had somehow orchestrated this as well.

“I could instruct you all to return to work, you know,” she said. “It is only fair that your recrimination should begin there. However…”

“You showed up, saw how sick it was, and decided you’re going to hang out and eat hot dogs with us instead?” Scout asked.

She glared at him. “I still have work that must be done before the end of the day. But, it appears Miss Pauling has tripled her workload in the week leading up to today, she has effectively removed any urgency from the rest of your duties. Thanks to her foresight, you are technically not needed at the office today.”

“Aih! Way to go lassie!” Demo said, squeezing me around the shoulders until only my toes were on the ground. Similar congratulations were offered, everyone getting in a pat on the back.

“You inspire great loyalty, Miss Pauling,” she said. “But do not let this happen again.” With that she turned, and disappeared into the revelry.

“Wow,” I said. “I think I’m going to have a heart attack now.”

“Have one when the parade is over!” Soldier demanded. “Look! Floats!”

There certainly were floats. As the chatter died down, and everyone celebrated their good luck, I was left standing among my friends with a new appreciation, these people who’d stuck by me when it’d counted. They were a bit of a colorful bunch but, hey, who better to celebrate pride with than them?

[artificialqueens]

Maybe You're My Enemy (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

a/n: hey, hi, hello! welcome to the first canon compliant thing i have written since 2017, i am *~ petrified! ~* . i had to write something to fix these two though after the events of episode 8 because i just love them dearly (and the fact in the subsequent episode Lawrence just dropped in the fact they’d shared a bed didn’t help this at all). thank you so much to @purecamp for reading it over and reassuring me it’s not a heap of shit (so if it turns out that it is then just blame her xo). also the song it’s set to is enemy by Charli XCX in case u want to get the immersive vibes!

fic summary: On one side of Scotland, Lawrence disappears from social media. On the other, Ellie reflects.

***

They say, “Keep your friends close”

But you’re closer, I love when you’re here

I’m so far away sometimes, I’m distant, yeah

The sky is grey. The clouds are grey. The stagnant water of the quay is grey, and so’s the metal rail that Ellie’s holding on to as he narrows his eyes, tries to stop the wind from hitting them and making him tear up.

As if the wind would be the only reason.

He brings his gaze into focus on the HMS Unicorn, sat in the water in front of him like some massive whale that’s been planted in a bathtub. It’s a fucking ugly ship; a glorified tugboat on steroids with a big bowsprit sticking out at the front all out of place, but he likes the little bust of the once-white unicorn that sticks out from under it. Ellie remembers getting brought here for a school trip in Primary 3, pointing to the unicorn all excited and getting laughed at by the boys in his class that he knew were going to grow up to be the ones that gave the teachers lip and got suspended in high school.

He remembers that Bryce made up the fact that one of the boys had “said the f word” in the gift shop later that day, just so Ellie could have the satisfaction of watching them get screamed at by their teacher. Ellie still fucking loves him for that.

Ellie thinks the unicorn is out of place in all this grey. He remembers the time he did his unicorn mix when he opened for Willam, how nervous he’d been and messaging Lawrence about it and getting a “this you coming out to me as a furry?” in return which made him laugh and forget why he’d even been nervous in the first place. He can’t help the smile the memory brings to his face even if he wants to.

And he wants to.

Lawrence always could make him smile, get a laugh from him even when he didn’t feel like it. He remembers with a blow to his heart what Lawrence had said on the show- “you’re not terribly funny? Like you don’t have…zinger-y punchlines?” - and how Tia had laughed and Ellie had wanted so much to bite back but didn’t.

Because he always could draw a laugh out of Lawrence. Granted he was usually laughing at him rather than with him, but Ellie could still put a smile on his face by acting dumb, saying things that Lawrence would subsequently repeat in a screech of disbelief that would always make Ellie laugh harder anyway. He’d always self-impose ridiculous dares on himself in front of him: in Hive, “here, what if I did the entire shot rainbow?”, in Nandos, “d’you think I could do the wing roulette by myself?”, in Glasgow on the Subway on the way to a gig, “dare me to get off at Ibrox and I’ll go to the Louden Tavern dressed like this?”. Ellie had been used to being the class clown for Lawrence, the jester for the queen.

Or maybe just a fool.

Ellie’s always hated the colour grey.

You might help me, intimacy

I’ll admit, I’m scared

Maybe, maybe you can reach me, yeah

His surroundings turn to silver as he shoves his hands in his pockets, heads towards the V&A museum that’s still glinting despite the lack of sunlight. He’s stopped by two teenage girls that are polite and shy and squeaky-voiced as they ask for a photo- he supposes that’s what he gets when he goes out wearing the pink and purple fur coat with the hearts on it. Ellie forces a smile and thanks them for supporting him and they tell him he’s their favourite in return.

After they walk away he thinks they must have been lying, but then he feels the frown etch itself onto his face as he shakes his head. The self-doubt is a hangover from filming that he needs to shake off.

He squints at the museum as he walks past, fleetingly thinks about going in and looking at some of the old fashion to cheer him up. A’whora’s promised to go with him when he’s eventually allowed to come up to visit, and Ellie snorts at the idea of the fashion queen of the London scene in Dundee. The thought of A’whora’s reaction to the Wellgate shopping centre- the Credit Union, the B&M, the Jobcentre Plus- puts the first smile on his face he’s had in days.

Lawrence had gone round the museum with him too, when Ellie had dropped him off at the train station the day after a gig and they’d been killing time. It had been weird to just dick about like that together the first few times. Weird the fact there was no makeup, glue and wigs, no alcohol or gay anthems to yell over. Just two boys walking around a museum together. Like a date.

Ellie makes a face before he even realises. Not this.

The first time they did all of it together was weird. Just like everything Lawrence had written. Nandos, cinema, staying at his. That last one especially. Ellie can still remember the way he’d stared up at the bumpy ceiling from his position on Lawrence’s couch in the pitch dark, street lamps from outside casting shadows through the blinds. The room was too cold and the blanket was too small and he hadn’t slept a wink but he’d still do it all over again.

The first time they’d both lain on Lawrence’s bed the morning after the night before, cracking up at Scottish You Laugh You Lose compilations on Youtube and Ellie being unable to help the tears that streamed down his face at Lawrence imitating “big shoe, big shoeeee!”. The way they’d been close and the way their arms had touched and the way Ellie had felt ridiculous for the way his heart was hammering. Just a friend.

The first time they’d found each other under the dark lights of CCs when they’d both been through in Edinburgh to support Alice by chance. The way Ellie’s heart had lit up like a firework when he saw him. The way they’d laced their fingers together without even having to ask permission first, the way everything just seemed to be as simple as tequila rose shots and pink lights and leaning against the wall as they smoked outside.

The way everything else had just happened so easily.

Ellie squeezes his eyes shut before he can realise what he’s doing. The memories have forced their way in, kicked down a door in his head that he’d been sure he’d bolted shut.

He needs to change the locks.

Maybe you’re my enemy

Now I’ve finally let you come a little close to me,

Maybe you’re my enemy

You’re the only one who knows the way I’m really feelin’

Ellie is in the same Stitch onesie he’s been shrugging on since the last episode aired. It stinks. He’s joked to A'whora that he can probably smell him through the phone, and A'whora’s asked if he just sweats out Mango Loco Monster. Ellie makes some joke about wringing out his clothes into a pint glass if he did, which makes A'whora retch on camera.

He’s glad they made up at least. They didn’t have too much of a choice, to be fair. Apart from the way they get on so well, their bond and their friendship, A'whora’s the only other one who knows what it’s like to be in Ellie’s situation.

Except A'whora never stabbed Tayce in the back.

“You should talk to him,” A'whora insists, bringing the whole sorry situation up in a pause where Ellie must have looked as if he was about to make a vodka bleach mixer.

Ellie looks pointedly back at him through the screen. “I’ve been telling you to talk to Tayce for months.”

He watches A'whora pull an awkward face and he’s satisfied he’s hit a nerve. “That’s different though. You and Lawrence don’t live together.”

“Yeah. Least I wasn’t stupid enough to move in with someone I fancied, how’s that going for you?”

A'whora splutters a laugh that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Ellie feels guilty all over again. He feels like that’s his default these days. “Sorry, chick, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, I mean. It’s fine. Just have to act as if I’m not in love with the bitch every time I’m around her, it’s not hard,” A'whora deadpans.

Ellie frowns. “You know Tayce feels the same. Everyone knows it.”

“No I don’t,” A'whora says instantly back to him, shaking his head and dissolving momentarily into pixels. “Besides, even if she did, like…it’s easier if she didn’t, y'know? All this…publicity, every move getting analysed. It’s easier to just…not.”

Ellie narrows his eyes. “You’re doing a smashing job making the case for me and Lawrence.”

“You know what I mean! You don’t get people asking where Lawrence is in every live you do. You don’t get people going through the show fucking…frame by frame and then editing every time you breathe around each other together and setting it to a bloody Little Mix song.”

Ellie bursts out laughing and starts singing Black Magic down the phone to him, which makes A'whora look pointedly at him before clearly being unable to hold it for long and instead laughing with him.

Both their laughter dies down and Ellie watches as A'whora smiles sadly, sincerely. “He’s worth the risk, Els.”

“Oh my God, prison. Who the fuck are you, Nicholas Sparks?”

The reference flies over A'whora's head and Ellie starts explaining the plot of the A Walk to Remember, steering the conversation out of the waters it had become marooned in, the captain of his very own HMS Unicorn.

He feels more like he’s aboard the Titanic with every message that goes unread.

Now it’s really clear to me

You could do a little damage, you could cut me deeper

“It didn’t get you a badge though, was it worth it?”

Ellie’s asked himself that every day since the episode aired. Since he made the decision, pretty much. Financially? Yes it was. It’s pretty well-known at this point in the grand scheme of Drag Race that with each week you’re on the likelihood of securing more bookings is increased, and now with his slot at Drag Fest he feels as if he’s hit the jackpot.

Everything else? Not so much.

Ellie still feels his stomach drop if he thinks enough about that untucked, which he does all the time. Too much, in fact. The aggression in Lawrence’s voice which Ellie knew all too well was a manifestation of hurt on so many levels. The way Lawrence chose the conflict that Ellie wished he could have avoided. The way Lawrence left his feelings bare while Ellie couldn’t trust himself to do the same in case he said something he might regret.

The fact Lawrence had thought Ellie had set him up to fail was maybe what hurt the most, though. Ellie had wanted to ask him how he thought he’d be able to do that after everything they’d been through together. He’d tried to tell him he didn’t think it was possible for him to fail at something he shines at. He’d wanted to grab Lawrence’s pink fucking headpiece and bash him over the head with it until he realised that he’s Lawrence fucking Chaney, he is the Scottish drag queen. Lawrence is the one who will say something at a gig one week and it’ll be common drag parlance across the country by the next. Lawrence is the one getting booked by the BBC Social to make educational videos. Lawrence is the one on posters across Glasgow, for fuck’s sake.

Ellie might not have been thinking about the worst case scenario in that moment, but only because he genuinely didn’t think there could be one.

After all, he’d had his opportunity to sabotage Lawrence. Ellie remembers the first day when the producers had wanted to set up the Scottish queen rivalry, asked for something shady they could use as a soundbite. The way he’d sought out Lawrence on a smoke break and told him about the situation and reassured him that he hadn’t given them anything, and the way Lawrence had just smiled back at him, softly and genuinely, and told Ellie he’d done the same. The way they’d minutely linked pinkies together before breaking them and walking back inside as if they’d barely shared so much as a glance, neither of them wanting to draw any suspicion their way.

And he could’ve been harsher in that untucked if he’d wanted. Could’ve said how for someone that was meant to care so much about friendship and sisterhood, Lawrence had been doing a great job shitting on him from a great height about his lack of challenge wins and his run on the show.  

But he didn’t, because…well. He knows why.

Because the knowledge that he’d hurt Lawrence and lost his trust had done more damage than any joke Lawrence made at his expense could ever do.

Ellie goes live on the Tuesday afternoon. A comment on the chat reads, “are u A’whora and Lawrence still friends???”

“Yeah, me and A’whora are still friends!” Ellie bats the comment away with a fake smile.

He’ll blame his lack of comprehension skills if he’s asked about it.

I feel guilty, I feel nervous, I feel certain now

Maybe, maybe you can reach me

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it.

Maybe it’s when he wakes up on Friday and Lawrence’s Twitter isn’t loading. Maybe it’s when he reads the other Scottish girls condemning the fans, the word fatphobia leaping out, grabbing Ellie’s heart and wrenching it tight.

Surely not this?

Ellie searches Twitter and what he finds makes him feel ill. He doesn’t know what he had expected- he’d known the frantic tweet urging the fans to be kind that he’d typed out before he went to sleep hadn’t exactly been going to create world peace overnight- but he hadn’t expected any of this. Everyone loves Lawrence, surely.

Although perhaps he’s just talking from experience.

Maybe it’s when he shoots Lawrence a message that goes unopened. In all honesty Ellie doesn’t blame him. A flimsy sentiment about hoping he’s okay that clocks in at under 250 characters isn’t going to cut it, and he’s grateful when Bimini, with all their empathy and ability to read a situation as clear as day, texts him and tells him that Lawrence has replied to them and he’s…well, he’s managing.

Maybe it’s when Ellie goes live with A’whora and he manages to mention Lawrence entirely too many times. A cry for attention or an old habit that’s dying hard? He can’t tell. Perhaps it’s both.

It’s definitely got something to do with the Facebook post.

Whatever it is, Ellie finds himself stuffing any old random items of clothing in a backpack and hoping it makes an outfit, shoving the spare key into the soil of the plant pot outside his front door and texting Anne to tell her where it is in case…fuck knows, the flat goes on fire while he’s away or something. He looks up the train times as he’s on his way to the station; a terrible decision, really, as when he’s still fifteen minutes away he discovers there’s one in ten. Somehow he manages to make it to the station with just a minute to spare and his heart lifts to find that the ticket barriers are open, so he dashes through them and hurtles onto the train that’s waiting at the platform. He catches his breath as he slumps into a table seat, having to take his mask off for a couple of seconds just so he can breathe properly. The way his heart is going at the rate the train’s about to isn’t helping.

The chimes of the train announcement cut through his attempts at slowing his heart down, and the little robotic woman’s voice confirms that his ridiculous, spur-of-the-moment decision is actually happening.

“This is Dundee. This train is for Glasgow Queen Street.”

Because this is all so last minute, but he needs to see Lawrence. He’s apologised probably ten times by now but he knows he needs to make it eleven. He knows (he hopes) that Lawrence needs that eleventh time too. He knows that Lawrence needs Ellie’s persistence, knows that it’s all just an attempt at self-preservation. Lawrence’s attempts at shutting Ellie out are just inviting him to bring a battering ram. At least, he hopes. But like A’whora had said…he’s worth the risk.

The train starts moving, and even if he wanted to back out now he couldn’t.

So cold at the surface, I’m scared of nothin’

Underneath, I’m nervous

Can you reach me?  

Ellie waits for the subway at Buchanan Street and his glazed-over eyes focus on a massive poster of Lawrence on the platform opposite. He briefly considers throwing himself under the next train.

The journey down had passed somehow in the blink of an eye and also agonisingly slowly. Too much time to sit and stare out of the window but not enough time to figure out what he’s going to say. He still doesn’t know. He’d said it all those months ago, he’s said it through texts and DMs. This time feels different, though. This time is different. This time there’s no cameras or runners or pink tables, or distance between them or tension at the fact nothing had aired yet.

It’s going to be the pair of them and Lawrence’s flat. Just like it’s been so many times before.

Ellie thinks he’ll probably just open his mouth, say whatever gets there first and hope it hits the right notes; a terrible decision arrived upon as a result of the lack of any other option. His mind is a messed up ball of television static, a knotted yarn of white noise that he can’t find the end of. He feels as if it’s made of the noise the train makes as it screams into the station, metal on metal and the low whoosh of the wind through the tunnel and the rickety shaking of the doors as they slide open and people stream off.

He picks up his bag and sinks down into the horrifically patterned upholstery of the seats, settling himself in for the journey. The little metal tin can of a train doesn’t take long to fire through the seven stops before Govan and with each one that passes Ellie can feel his nerves spiking and his mouth growing dry.

What if Lawrence isn’t even in? What if it’s all got too much and he’s gone back to Helensburgh for the foreseeable? Ellie could get a train up there, he supposes; he’s already on this side of the country, although he doesn’t know if Lawrence would appreciate the gesture or call the police on him.

Ellie concludes it would be worth it anyway.

He emerges from the Subway and the grey seems to hit him all over again, seeping into his clothes and forcing him to fight through the sadness that hits him like a wave. There’s a little beam of sunshine fighting to escape the clouds though, and Ellie hopes it’s some form of pathetic fallacy. Or whatever that one about the weather matching your feelings was. Fucked if he ever paid attention in Nat 5 English.

The streets of red brick tenements feel like pens of hostility as he passes windows that serve as frames for Union Jacks and Red Hand of Ulster flags. Even being raised in a Christian household doesn’t equip him to identify with this form of religion; where the disciples are football players and the gods are flags and the hymns are about killing Catholics. Ellie has always worried about Lawrence living here, told him as much, but he’s always been met with a bark of a laugh back and some comment about how he’s only saying that because he’s lived such a sheltered little life in Dundee and wouldn’t last five minutes trying to inhabit Glasgow and all its cheerful sectarianism. Lawrence has always had a very blythe attitude to the whole thing, and Ellie remembers when he’d held his hand on the way back from the Subway in full drag after a gig like it was nothing, the way some dick in an orange and blue scarf had shouted at them from across the street and Lawrence had just yelled back with an “awrite, babes?” as if he had a death wish.

Which is what makes this whole thing so grim. The Lawrence who drunkenly and sarcastically greets bigots at three in the morning from across the street doesn’t marry up with the Lawrence that’s holed up in his flat in the face of negativity. Ellie supposes that one homophobic Rangers fan is one homophobic Rangers fan, but Twitter can seem like the whole world’s population, and if Lawrence thinks the world hates him just because he’s reacted to something that was Ellie’s fault…

He feels his gut wrench.

Ellie turns into Lawrence’s street and feels ill. He could always go home. Turn and walk back to the Subway, train back to Queen Street, back to Dundee, back to the flat. Like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn’t even consciously made the decision, like it was all a dream.

He sleepwalks to Lawrence’s close door anyway, just like he knew he would.

His hand shakes as he presses the buzzer too hard, and the panic rises in his throat as the seconds pass agonisingly slowly. When there’s a crackle from the intercom, he freezes in fear.

“Hello?”

It’s Kiko’s voice. Of course his flatmate had to be the one to answer, drag out the humiliation of the whole thing. Ellie can hear the shake to his voice as he replies.

“Hey, it’s Ellie.”

“…Ellie?”

He chooses to ignore the disbelief, acts as if it’s normal for him to have travelled across the country to turn up on Lawrence’s doorstep in the middle of a pandemic when there’s a travel ban in place. He’s considering this essential travel anyway.

“Is Lawrence in at all?”

Kiko, for her part, seems to pick up on the way the whole visit is masquerading as routine. In the split second before she replies, Ellie finds himself holding his breath. He steels himself, prepares for a “no, he’s actually…”, to send him back to Dundee like a crumpled sheet of paper tossed into a bin.

So Ellie feels like his throat’s going to close up when Kiko replies down the intercom. “Yeah, two secs. I’ll buzz you up.”

The dread settles in his gut like a weight as the buzzer rings out into the street, harsh and loud and doing nothing for Ellie’s derailed train of thought. He pushes on the door, takes his first step into the close and the echo seems to hit him deep in his chest. He finds himself wishing Lawrence lives four up but he’s only on the first floor, and as Ellie puts his foot on the first step of the staircase he keeps his eyes trained on the stairs because he knows the moment he looks up he’s going to see somebody standing there holding the door open and even though he’s had hours to prepare himself, weeks even, he’s not ready for that in the slightest.

And when he finally brings his gaze onto the front door with four steps to go, he’s not ready for the way the sight of Lawrence almost knocks him straight back down again. He’s slumped against the doorframe and has very clearly not slept- since when, Ellie couldn’t guess. A black hoodie is swamping him and a pair of navy sweatpants are doing the same, making him seem smaller than he already is. The sight of his hair up in that tiny bun hurts Ellie’s heart because it makes him want to smile, reminds him of the Lawrence he’d dick about in the workroom and the smoking area and the hotel corridors with before it all went so wrong. His arms are folded and he’s looking at the tiles on the landing floor until Ellie reaches the doorway, shifts awkwardly.

“Hi.”

Lawrence doesn’t quite meet his eyes. It’s a minute detail that hurts Ellie more than he would have expected. He doesn’t reply for a second, then seems to relent. “Hey.”

Another pause. The atmosphere makes Ellie wish he’d worn a thicker jacket.

“You’re not meant to be here, you know. Wee Nicky’s probably had snipers trained on you since you got off the train,” Lawrence says, delivering the quip with a bitter, barbed edge that makes Ellie think it’s less of a joke and more wishful thinking.

“Wouldn’t be any less than I deserve, I’m sure,” Ellie smiles sadly, unable to make it meet his eyes. Lawrence’s expression remains unimpressed.

“So why are you here, then,” he not so much as demands an answer but disinterestedly inquires. Ellie bites his bottom lip before he replies, as if he’s forcing himself to make sure his words are perfect.

“I just came down because…well, I wanted to see how you were. I know the past week must have been shit for you.”

Lawrence raises his eyebrows, his eyes growing wide as if to really drive home to Ellie how much of an understatement he already knows he’s made. “Yeah.”

Ellie sighs, wanting desperately to get the next part right. “And I felt like I needed to say I’m sorry. Y’know, in front of you.”

“You said sorry back when we filmed. We’re over it, it’s fine,” Lawrence says flatly, conveying that everything is not fine.

“It’s not fine, though. I wouldn’t have come down if it was fine. Things haven’t been fine since that day, and like…I miss you, Lawrence, I don’t want to lose you as a friend, or as a sister, or as…” Ellie stumbles, looking to the floor as he tries to articulate the other facet of their relationship. “…whatever else we are. Whatever else we were. I’m sorry for fucking everything up.”

There’s a silence in which the pair of them freeze and hold their breath. Time could very well be standing still for all Ellie knows. He immediately regrets bringing up all of…that. He should’ve kept it to friendship, shouldn’t have added anything on. Before he can overthink any more or begin to backtrack, a small sigh from Lawrence makes him look up.

“I thought you hated me,” he says. His voice is small and the words are unexpected. There’s so much Ellie could say in response. He settles on a joke.

“No, I think you’re a cunt. There’s a difference,” Ellie smiles tightly, the joke tentative. The snort it gets from Lawrence makes his smile grow without him being able to help it. “Was that a good one? Thought I was the unfunniest person on the planet?”

“We weren’t talking about your Bake Off improv,” Lawrence raises his eyebrows as he smirks, and Ellie fakes a wounded laugh.

“Shady cow.”

“I’m sorry,” Lawrence says out of nowhere, his smile gone all of a sudden.

Ellie tries to drag the joke out a little longer, hold onto the sparks they’ve just created. “Nah, it was shit, you’re right.”

“No, Ellie…” Lawrence shakes his head, worrying his lip between his teeth a little. “I am sorry.”

Ellie feels the panic wash over him when he clocks the glisten in his eyes. “It’s fine, girl.”

“It’s not fine. I was a dick to you so many times, no fuckin’ wonder I thought you’d set me up. I would too if I had somebody talking down to me like I did to you,” Lawrence says gravely. His gaze is fixed on his floor and just as Ellie is about to speak he catches sight of two tears that fall onto the red carpet, the darkness akin to blood. His horror grows as Lawrence finally snaps his head up, tears shining in his eyes as he sighs helplessly in a shaky voice. “You’re amazing, Ellie, you’re such a talent, and…fuck, I missed you.”

His words mean more to him that Ellie had expected them to. He doesn’t want to let that show, though, because that’s too much, that means too much for the situation just now and he can deal with that realisation at a later date. For now, Ellie points at him in mock-accusation. “Hey listen, I’m the one that got the train down to come and make a big speech to you and say sorry. Buy your own damn train ticket for that.”

Lawrence’s voice is thick with tears as he lets out a short laugh. “Sorry.”

“Wee bitch. Always have to make everything about you,” Ellie rolls his eyes, getting another teary laugh out of Lawrence and raising his hopes that maybe they’ll be okay.

And then the banks break and Lawrence makes a little choked-up noise, a sob that’s not fully a sob. His eyes meet Ellie’s and they’re full of so much sadness and regret that just looking at them creates a crack in Ellie’s heart, one that matches the crack in Lawrence’s voice as he speaks again.

“This has all been shit to do without you.”

Ellie doesn’t think before opening his arms out, shaking his head affectionately. “Don’t be silly. C’mere.”

When Lawrence immediately opens out his own and they meet each other in the middle and hug tightly, Ellie feels like a balloon that’s been let go and is floating up to the sky.

The clouds aren’t grey.

The way they’re holding each other brings back too many memories. Seeing each other at gigs and feeling butterflies take hold of his stomach. Coming off stage after a number and conveying his pride in him without even having to say a word. Saying goodbye at train stations with disappointment lodging itself in his heart. All the nostalgia makes Ellie want to cry, but he can’t start now. Instead, he breaths a shaky sigh, shakes his head before he speaks.

“You’ve always had me, okay? You’ve always got me. We’ve said sorry now, that’s the end of it. Periodt,” Ellie murmurs against his shoulder, adding on his trademark at the end. The laugh he gets muffled against his chest in return makes him feel lighter.

“I’ve not showered. I definitely stink. You don’t have to keep hugging me, you know.”

“You don’t. I want to,” Ellie says back. He means it.

It’s Lawrence that slides out of the hug first but he’s still standing close as he quickly wipes away his tears, looks Ellie up and down with a smirk on his face. “So where’s your Travelodge, hen?”

Ellie’s sheepish when he makes eye contact with him again, shrugs one strap of the rucksack off before replying. “You know damn well I’ve not booked anywhere.”

“Fuckin’ hell. Right, come on,” Lawrence shakes his head affectionately, stepping back into his hallway and letting Ellie finally cross the threshold to drop his bag like an anchor in the flat. It’s the physical manifestation of the burden finally being lifted off of him, the guilt and the regret melting away in favour of the flutter of his heart and a few small sparks that he wants to put in resin. “I get to choose the film later as reparations. Don’t trust you since you made us watch Cat In The Hat.”

Ellie gives a shocked gasp, genuinely offended. “It’s good!”

“Is it fuck. In fact, just for that I’m going to make you sit through something sci-fi and geeky and you’re gonna hate it,” Lawrence smiles with genuine glee, and Ellie can’t even bring himself to be mad about it. As the pair of them walk through to the living room, Lawrence jumps onto the sofa and fixes Ellie with a look that is clearly meant to be serious but that simultaneously Lawrence can’t commit to and Ellie can’t believe. “You’re sleeping here tonight, by the way.”

Ellie raises his eyebrows as he fakes his agreement, going along with the charade Lawrence is beginning. They both know they’ll end up curled up together on the sofa with neither of them having an explanation for how it’s happened, but at the same time knowing they don’t have to explain themselves. They know that Ellie will end up falling asleep slumped against Lawrence and that he’ll have to gently shake him awake, that he’ll wordlessly offer Ellie a hand to drag him off the couch with and that they’ll go through to Lawrence’s room like always. They know that they’ll wake up tangled together like the sheets and that Ellie will be there for him, that he’ll help Lawrence piece himself back together and they’ll go back to the start. Well, maybe not the start. Perhaps somewhere better.

Ellie keeps his friends close, but Lawrence is something a little bit more. Something a little bit closer.

Baby, you’re my enemy.

[when-they-write-stuff]

As always no pressure but for prompts fluff 4 “OH you’re jealous” sterek?

Stiles would like to say that first of all, he didn’t want to have a job, thank you very much.

But he was a teenage boy and it was his responsibility to be prepared to face the real world. And… and his dad refused to buy him curly fries on the regular. So Stiles got a job.

He had to support his curly fry addiction some way, alright?

Though, being a barista at the Beacon Hill’s favorite cafe ‘the Bean’ really wasn’t that bad. Yeah, sure, sometimes Stiles got customers that made him want to bash his head into the nearest wall, but there were perks too.

Like the tips. The free (not really, but shh) coffee. And the fact that Derek came in every morning to get his daily cup of the most boring drink in the world.

Black coffee.

Stiles didn’t understand why the man didn’t just brew his own coffee at the loft, but Derek was an enigma. He did weird stuff and Stiles had given up long ago trying to figure him out.

Okay, that last part was a lie. But if Derek wanted to spend a dollar a day on crappy black coffee, Stiles wouldn’t judge him for it. Too hard, at least. Plus, he got to see the werewolf’s grumpy face and expressive eyebrows every day.

Stiles found himself looking forward to that far more than he should.

It was a Tuesday morning at eight o’clock when Derek pushed into the coffee shop as usual. Stiles grinned from ear to ear and propped his chin up on his hands, leaning forward.

“Why good morning dearest grumpy-pants,” Stiles said with a grin, winking at him. Derek rolled his eyes and thumbed out his wallet.

“Stiles.”

“The usual, I trust? One pink drink coming right up.”

Derek didn’t look impressed. Stiles grinned.

“Wait, no, my bad. I’ll hit you with a double chocolatey chocolate frappuccino in five minutes, Sourwolf. Just let me grab the extra chocolatey chocolate syrup.”

“Stiles, you’re an idiot.”

“Ah, yes, but I’m the idiot in charge of your drink order. You wouldn’t want me to mess up that fine black coffee you’re so obsessed with, would you? Now tell me, what did you want to order again?”

“You literally just said it.”

“Oh, shit my bad,” Stiles said with a grin. “One low-fat sugar-free vanilla latte coming right up. Wouldn’t want to lose those little werewolfy muscles, would you?”

Derek rolled his eyes and slapped a dollar onto the counter before stalking way. Stiles grinned after him.

“What, no tip? You’re a Scrooge!”

Boyd came out from the back room, wiping his hands on a dishrag. He glanced between Stiles and Derek and then sighed, shaking his head. “Black coffee?”

“No, Derek wanted to try that new drink we just promoted. What is it called again? The unicorn?”

Derek glared at him from over at the waiting counter and Stiles smirked cheekily, wiggling his fingers through the air in a wave. Boyd snorted and moved away, heading toward the coffee machine.

Stiles thought he was no fun.

Boyd pushed a small black coffee into his hands a few moments later and Stiles finished capping it. Like he did every day, he slipped a sleeve around the middle and then pulled a pen out of his back pocket, scrawling his number and a winky face onto the cardboard.

Then, with a bright smile, he carried the coffee over to the counter and deposited it in front of the waiting werewolf.

“One triple shot of expresso, Mr. Hale, just like you ordered.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Really? Because I think I outdid myself today. Give it a taste and tell me how amazing of a chef I am.”

“It’s coffee,” Derek said flatly. “And you didn’t even pour it.”

“See, Derek, this is why rainbows hate you. Can’t you just play along for once and tell me how amazing my black coffee is?”

Derek snorted and plastered a fake smile on his face, shoving a five-dollar bill across the counter before he turned away. “Your black coffee is amazing, Mieczyslaw.”

“Okay,” Stiles called after him, crossing his arms. “Just because you learned how to say my full name doesn’t mean you have the right to use it!”

Derek ignored him, the overhead bell ringing as he pushed out of the shop. Stiles wrinkled his nose and glared at the man’s back.

“Furry asshole.”

“He can still hear you,” Boyd said, brushing past. Stiles grinned.

“I know.”

-

When Derek came in the next morning, it was eight o’five. Stiles grinned at him and couldn’t resist making a show of checking his non-existent watch.

“My, Sourwolf, did you get caught up in traffic? I thought you’d died or something.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“Ah, I can see we’re feeling particularly positive this morning. Tell me, Grumpy Cat, will you be trying something other than black coffee today? I make a mean mocha, or you can go out on a limb and try something even better. Like adding whipped cream.”

Derek gave him a flat look a dropped a dollar onto the counter. Stiles heaved a dramatic sigh and turned away, waving a hand over his shoulder.

“Ya basic, Derek!”

Erica was on shift today and she’d come out with a grin the moment Derek entered the shop. Stiles went to grab a cup but she was there first, picking one up and shooting him a mischievous wink. “I’ve got him today, Batman.”

Stiles squinted at her. “Are you going to poison it?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine,” he said, shrugging. “Just don’t leave behind any evidence.”

Erica’s smirk was wicked as she trailed her fingers over the back of his neck and started toward the coffee machine. Then she completely bypassed it and went for the syrups, grabbing the chocolate, strawberry, and caramel.

Stiles cackled to himself and moved to help the next customer.

When Erica came back over with the small coffee, Stiles thought it smelled like the ice cream aisle at the grocery store had thrown up into a couple of teaspoons of coffee. He still took the cup and capped it, scrawling his number onto the cardboard slip before waltzing over to where Derek was waiting.

The man scrolled idly through his phone, not paying them any attention.

“One fine ass cup of joe for my favorite Alpha werewolf to ever grace Beacon Hills with his eyebrows,” Stiles said. “Should I take my compliments now or wait until after you’ve had a sip?”

Derek rolled his eyes and slapped a five onto the counter again. Stiles pocketed it before the man could take a drink and quickly hurried away. Erica was already out of sight, the traitor.

Stiles didn’t make it into the backroom before Derek was gagging. Despite his best, fastest efforts.

“Stiles, what the hell is this?”

Stiles winced and turned back around. Those in the coffee shop were staring and he put on his best ‘customer service’ smile, moving back over to the counter. “I’m sorry, sir, is everything not to your liking?”

“Stiles, this isn’t even coffee!”

“Sir,” Stiles said, keeping his expression neutrally blank. “If you would like me to make you another cup, I would gladly do it. Of course, the specific instructions you left earlier were a bit hard to follow—”

“All I wanted was a black cup of coffee!”

Stiles did his best to smother his grin. He thought he must have all the self-control in the world because he could hear Erica cackling in the back room. Clearly, Derke could too, because he turned a few different shades of red before growling and turning away.

Stiles watched him stalk out of the coffee shop with a carefully blank expression before sighing and turning away from the customers that stared.

Only when he made it to the back room did he break down into laughter too.

-

He’d half expected Derek to not come the next morning. But Derek strode through the doors at seven fifty-five on Thursday and Stiles couldn’t resist beaming from ear to ear.

“Sourwolf! You’re here!”

“If you give me anything other than black coffee this morning, I’m going to rip your throat out,” Derek said, flashing his red eyes. Stiles only grinned.

“One calming herbal tea coming right up!”

“Stiles.”

Stiles only chuckled and tipped two fingers to his temple, turning away. Isaac— always the true puppy— was already making Derek’s coffee. The beta rolled his eyes as Stiles tugged on his scarf and scoffed.

“You’re such a suck up, I-sack.”

“Shut up, Stilinski.”

“Gimme,” Stiles said, ignoring him and making grabby hands. Isaac shook his head and shoved the coffee over, nearly sloshing it over the edges.

“And I’m the suck up.”

“Oh, don’t give me that, I’m just making sure you assholes don’t do anything to our majestic alpha’s coffee! I know better than to trust you bastards.”

“Didn’t you put a raw egg in his drink last month?”

Stiles cackled, remembering Derek’s face when he’d opened his cup. Stiles had been locked out of the loft for a week after that occasion, but it’d been worth it. “I made the coffee so hot, the egg had nearly finished cooking.”

“You’re an idiot, Stiles.”

Stiles only grinned and went through the motions; the lid, the slip, and the number. He noticed Derek had been watching his every move. Stiles laughed and deposited the coffee onto the counter with a hum, dropping his chin onto the palms of his hands.

“Alpha, oh my Alpha. Here is your coffee.”

Derek only rolled his eyes and took it, turning away. Stiles squawked and gazed after him.

“What, no tip?”

The man acted like Stiles hadn’t even said a word, pushing back out of the shop. Stiles stared at him for a moment longer and then sighed, turning away. Revenge for yesterday, he had no doubts. Derek was never any fun.

Isaac laughed at his hurt expression; Stiles flipped him the bird.

It wasn’t like he cared.

-

Stiles was alone on his shift come Friday. The betas all refused to work on the weekend and while Stiles argued that Friday didn’t count as the weekend, they still refused to pick up any shifts.

Derek still came in at eight o’clock sharp that morning. But this time, it was Stiles’s co-worked who went over to take his order.

Stiles was… erm, busy.

There was this Beacon Hills Community College kid who’d been coming in all summer and Stiles was pretty sure he’d taken a shining to him. Because the guy always tipped extra, always stuck around to chat afterward, and always, um, left his number.

Stiles was usually pretty flattered. Except now Derek was looking at him with murder in his eyes.

Stiles chuckled nervously and pushed himself away, walking over to the counter where Derek’s waited. The man frowned and looked over his shoulder, and Stiles could’ve sworn his eyes flickered red. Blinking, his grin slipped and he smacked the man on the shoulder.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?”

“Who is that?”

“Who is—” Stiles glanced over his shoulder where Mark was quickly making a beeline for the door. Singing heavily, Stiles gazed back at the angry-looking werewolf. “Dude, are you serious right now? He’s human— a college student— not a threat.”

“I know he’s human,” Derek said in a growl. “I can smell his stench from here.”

Stiles blinked. “Um.”

Derek tore his gaze away and glared down at the counter. Stiles’s co-worker came over and slid the man’s black coffee across the counter; missing the slip. But Derek didn’t take it. Stiles stared at him for a moment and then his mouth dropped open.

“Oh my god,” he said, the realization kicking in. “Are you jealous, Derek?”

Grey-green eyes snapped back up. Derek scowled. “No.”

“You are!” Stiles said, his grin returning. “Oh my god, dude, you’re totally jealous! What, am I not allowed to write my number on anyone’s cup except for yours? You never even text me!”

Derek’s eyes flashed. “You gave him your number?”

“No, Sourwolf,” Stiles said with a laugh. Derek’s jaw ticked and Stiles shook his head, looking at the man fondly. “You’re the only Alpha werewolf that I purposefully mess with. I promise.”

“M’ not jealous,” Derek mumbled dropping his gaze again. Stiles chuckled and pulled the pen out of his back pocket, grabbing a cardboard slip and quickly scrawling his number onto his. He grabbed Derek’s coffee and fixed on the slip, before offering it over.

Derek took it with a small smile.

“One expertly done back coffee,” Stiles said with a grin. “Probably because I make do it.”

“Your black coffee is amazing, Mieczyslaw,” Derek said softly. His fingers brushed against Stiles’s own as he took it, and Stiles couldn’t help as his heart did a little flip.

He watched until the man left the coffee shop before deflating into himself and shaking his head. The grin on his face wouldn’t leave.

“Softiewolf,” he murmured. In less than three seconds, his phone buzzed and Stiles dug it out in confusion. Everyone knew he was on a shift.

‘I can still hear you, you know’ 

    - D

Stiles grinned even wider to himself and glanced toward the closed door. His chest felt full; warm.

“I know.”

- -

The soft feelz have gotten away from me and I have no control. Thank you so much for the prompt, wolfile, I had fun! 

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your underpaid student writer? Seriously, I’d adore you guys so much). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[britishchick09]

charlie the unicorn: the grand finale livewatch

a beloved video series of my childhood has come to an end! after refreshing myself with the previous vids, it’s time to dive into charming charlie (not the store lol)

it begins on a mystery cube... :o

this is definitely more dramatic than the others!

a tower? a person? is this rapunzel?

CAAAARL!!!

it’s a rhino researcher!

oh the CAAARL is a weasel!

and the researcher is named nyx! coolio :D

he looks so cool! :D

weasel leader: “nyx, are you aware that this tower is possibly but not definitively extremely dangerous and bad?” lol :D

nyx: “you may be guarding the wrong thing!” random council member: “........i disagree!” lol that timing :D

he just wants the caverns not the castle huh!

...wait then what was the point of their meeting

leader: “well thank you for making me call this council meeting for nothing.” lol :D

the leader keeps pottery projects in the cavern lol :D

leader: “i haven’t been down this far in the caverns!” nyx: “why not?” leader: “i found an upsetting bat down here once it kind of put me off the whole place to be honest” lol :D

oof :/

nyx doesn’t care lol :D

leader: “daaaang it!” ha ha :D

yo they ded :o

leader: “warn the world that death is coming for everyone!” OMG NOT CHARLES HORSE AND OTHERS!!!!!

leader: “yep. our bad!” omg! :o

we’re nearly halfway through the video AND THEEEEERE’S CHARLIE!!! :D

THEM!!!!

pink: “oh nothing just hangin’ with the bois :)” charlie: “what boys?”

“THE BOIIIIIS!!!!” OMG :O

YO WTF

pink: “charlie! my sweet stalion! my magnificent angel!” omg

the webwonk is back!!! :o

charlie: “i don’t beleive any of this nonsense.” pink: “even wackawong?” charlie: “yes especially that!” blue: “well you’re wackawrong!!!!” OHHHHHH!!!!

R A I N B O W S

only charlie would groan at a rainbow ride!

OMG SONG

wtf is that

whale thing: ♫ all your thoughts and feelings are wrong! ♫ said o’brien to winston

charlie: “OH”

whale: ♫ charlie. the unicorn ♫ CUE CREDITS!!!!

OMG CHARLIE’S HEART IS DED WUT

STOP DRAGGING CHARLIE LET HIM SIT IN YOUR CHAIR

charlie: “...well thank you for the advice-” whale thing: *EXPLODES* classic ctu! :D

the blue one gave a blep!

and part 1 is over! onto the 2nd one AND THE TRUE END OF IT ALL

how... romantic?

oh no the creepies are calling to him...

why is the blue one emphasizing all the blood

AND THEY BE YEETED ONCE MORE

omg a news show?

the mayor was a business boss! :o

nyx is back!

the code is ‘sluv yourself’ lol :D

nyz: “i believe it may travel to magic city!” sluv: “city of magic” nyx: “...what?” sluv: “the name of the city is ‘magic city colon city of magic’” lol :D

sluv wants the cube for MONEYYY >:)

yo the cube murdered sluv wut

he’s a corpse puppet wut

awww charlie’s so hungry :/

charlie: “does this rainbow have a dine in car?” lol :D

pink: “what a big beautiful boi!” lol :D

OMG THE EAGLE

eagle: “sssccrar!” lol :D

charlie said ‘gratze’ after being kissed lol :D

blue about the condor: “be careful with this spicy girl-“ OMG

STARFISH BACC!!!!!

R A I N B O W S

yo charlie has to merge with a mollusk why

starfish: “you must fuse together like colliding stars!” lol :D

R A I N B O W   F U S E

yo epic B)

leader: “i’m just dead and lost. how goes you?” lol :D

they yoinked the keyboard lol :D

ooh a song :D

YO COAT

this is a great song :D

COAT HUSBAND

the song was lovely :)

leader: “oh magic city the city of magic fell do you know anyone there?” coat: “... my father is dead.” AND THAT’S WHAT THEY END ON

so that’s the end! it was funny and totally unexpected, just like the rest of the vids! in the comments of part 2, filmcow said there are more parts coming, so i’ll be sure to watch it when that happens. but for now... the random coat man is the end to the unicorn adventure! so far it’s been a fun and weird ride! :D

[lorei-writes]

Cubs

Little Tiger

Masamune x MC Modern AU Family AU Fluff Other stories happening within the same AU: Mommy, we have a problem , Not Alone ,  Storm

[Lorei, sumer 2021: ...I wrote this when?!]

Content Warnings: food

“ Huh, have I just caught myself a little mermaid?” Masamune asked, holding his daughter, his clothes already soaked from playing with her. “ I am not little!” she roared, smiling widely. “ Really?” he faked surprise, blinking fast. “ But you know what big girls do?” “ Of course!” she exclaimed, crossing arms in front of her chest. She looked around, as if searching for anybody that could hear her and whispered straight into his ear: “ But you can still tell me.” Masamune chuckled.

White tiles glistened, steam filling the air and making it glitter. Tiny pink hands rose high up, just to fall down in a single swift motion, sending the waves splashing onto the bathroom floor. The girl giggled, mischief playing in her deep blue eyes,  just to disappear under the water the very next second, not even the tip of her head peaking up. Two strong arms reached into the bathtub, scooping her out of it. “ Huh, have I just caught myself a little mermaid?” Masamune asked, holding his daughter, his clothes already soaked from playing with her. “ I am not little!” she roared, smiling widely. “ Really?” he faked surprise, blinking fast. “ But you know what big girls do?” “ Of course!” she exclaimed, crossing arms in front of her chest. She looked around, as if searching for anybody that could hear her and whispered straight into his ear: “ But you can still tell me.” Masamune chuckled. “ Big girls stand still and don't squirm when their parents try to towel them. And they don't instantly run out of the bathroom, okay?” With upmost seriousness, she accepted her task and soon, she was running down the stairs, dressed in a unicorn bathrobe, the ears and rainbow horn bouncing up with her every step. Masamune stayed behind, the bathroom looking as if a hurricane swept through it.

He followed his beloved to the future a couple of years prior. Everything was going for the better ever since he managed to find a job as a restaurant chef, their lives somewhat stabilising. They went on holidays abroad (Sasuke being a huge help in getting Masamune a passport), bought a home and soon, their family grew in size, as Mai gave birth to their daughter, Iroha. At a ripe age of four, the girl appeared to have taken after her parents in the boldest possible way, being wildly unpredictable and incredibly lively even for a toddler – not that they complained, already having started to try for the second child. He had not learnt everything about the present just yet, but it didn't matter – he had his whole life left, he might as well enjoy it and never stop being surprised. If anything, he was already able to hold his little girl's hand and see her walk, guiding her in the process and protecting her.

Masamune shook his head, the voices coming from downstairs bringing him back to reality. „ Mommy, I wanna a cookie!” the child roared, her voice disproportionately loud to the size of her body. „ Let's see...” Mai started. „ We can't begin cookie negotiations without dad here.” „ But mommy! I wanna a cookie!” „ Let's pick the movie now, okay? Daddy will be here in a second,” she exclaimed the second sentence, counting on back up from his side. Unwilling to deal with a grumpy toddler, Masamune changed into dry clothes and hurried to the living room.

Iroha was a hard negotiator, always representing the interest of her client (well, herself) with feral insistence, bordering on toddler „terrorism” and bribery with cuteness. However, to her dissatisfaction, her parents were experienced in handling tiger cubs of all sorts – nevertheless, not enough to deny her the cookie. The deal was struck and she emerged victorious, happily bouncing to the living room, the movie night (evening) just beginning.

Iroha loved animated films. As such, they made it a ritual: on every Friday, before lulling her to sleep, they'd eat home-made pizza and let her decide what they would be watching. To her delight, Masamune was usually just as interested in the plot as she was, the wonders of TV never ceasing to amaze him. Seeing her joyful face made it all the sweeter – although consequently, he was probably the only person at his workplace that knew most songs from the Disney movies by heart, his little girl singing them all the time.

They sat on the corner sofa, Iroha's eyes already glued to the screen, as she munched on her pizza. Masamune and Mai looked at each other, smirking – their plan succeeded. After being spoiled by her grandparents during the previous weekend, their daughter refused to eat anything but sweets, the meals turning into certain kind of tortures in the hell itself. However, fully absorbed by the cartoon, she ate hungrily, the small slices packed with extra veggies. „ It's so good, we should have had pizza for dinner on Monday, maybe then...” Mai whispered, leaning towards Masamune. „ Shhh, mommy, shhh,” Iroha demanded,  patting the air behind herself, as if she was trying to reach her mother. After a while, she added: „ But maybe eat more, baby needs it.” They almost choked – they did not have either the baby nor the sibling talk with her yet. „ Riko is going to have a little brother, I want one too,” the girl whined. „ But maybe a sister.” The parents, although somewhat shocked, concluded that the children at kindergarten must have exchanged some pregnancy facts – though it was still perhaps for the better if they had the talk on some other day. „ We'll see, kiddo,” Masamune chuckled, a slight blush appearing on Mai's face.

Iroha might have been lively, but she still was just a child – she had fallen asleep just after being tucked in. The door to her bedroom closed quietly, her parents returning downstairs to do the leftover chores. They wondered, was the world ready for another cub of theirs? Well, it had to be.

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Unmaker

genre: modern horror fairy tale

words: 2.8k

summary: a young woman encounters a unicorn in an alleyway

It was closer to midnight than it was sunset and my phone was ringing. The apartment was unlit and smelled of the burnt cheese on toast I made for dinner. The ceiling was a swamp of shadows and I couldn’t remember if I put on pajamas before I got into bed that night.

My cheap IKEA bedside table vibrated violently and I reached over with sightless fingers. Normally, I wouldn’t answer such calls, but it was closer to midnight than sunset and this had to be the fourth call.

 “What?” I slurred into the receiver.

“Lilly?” A voice asked in a hush. “Lil, girl, you’re a virgin, right?” I cracked my eyes open and clenched my jaw, “What? Are you calling me just to ask--” “You have to come over here.” Katie Reynolds said slowly. “Like, right outside my apartment, right now.” I glanced down and realized I was still in my rumpled jeans no doubt making topographical maps of my skin. “I literally cannot imagine what you need me for at this hour… And how that’s related to my sex life?” “It’s cool, dude,” she whispered slowly. “But you have to come see this. Remember our classic beasts class? Remember about harvest moons?” I sat up properly and started reaching for a grungy bra I flung to the side earlier or else a heavy enough sweater. “Uh, yeah?” “It’s the harvest moon. It’s by my apartment. Oh shit, gotta go,” something crumpled in the background and Katie squealed, “just get your ass over here!” I fumbled my way out of bed and toward the dresser to put myself together. My tangled hair wasn’t important but my mouth tasted like you could forage for mushrooms in it from the grittiness alone. It hadn’t been an easy few months since I had been kicked out.

I brushed my teeth in lazily circles while I walked around the small apartment and found my shoes on opposite ends of the room as a clearly divorced couple. I got them back together and was out the door and onto the street just as a hazy layer of rain started to come down.

I had sold my car when the first rent payment had been due, but Katie only lived a few blocks from me. It was a Tuesday so the streets were practically empty except for a few cars with their brights on high and the city riff-raff wondering the nooks and crannies of the night. Nameless people passed at a fast-walk and the sky was bulky with heavy clouds. The yellowed street lights appeared faded and unreal through the mist as I walked.

I turned left onto Katie’s block and narrowed my eyes as the sheen of water seemed to grow thicker there. I looked behind me and then back to the street lamps on the block, and then back, the lights seemed to be more subdued on Katie’s block, like their light didn’t quite reach the ground.

I took a deep breath and kept walking.

With every step I took the air seemed to get slightly more shadowed and more hazy from the drizzle. I put my hood up over my damp curls and there was a certain hush in the air: quiet and electric all at once.

“Katie?” I whispered as I came up to the first side street. “Kate?” I stopped as I heard a series of muffled sobs. Someone was sniffing and silently crying to themselves.

I hurried to the next side street where the choked crying grew louder. I turned and found Katie in the middle of the alley with her face in her hands. She was wearing her regular gym clothes and a high golden ponytail with a hundred bobby pins stick to the side of her head.

But she was slumped over. Her generous height reduced to nothing and she was shaking slightly. I put my hand out to pat her but hesitated, “Hey,” I said instead, “it’s Lilly. I’m here.” She peaked through her hands and her mouth was fixed in a pressed frown. She nodded over to the end of the alleyway. The excitement from her original phone call was gone, but there was an urgency to her movements.

I turned quickly and there was a soft glow coming from the end of the short alley. Two hulking trash bins the color of pine needles and green wine bottles sat on either side of the dark street. The concrete led to a couple of black trash bags with slashes down the side.

The area itself was breathlessly dim and there was something thick and textured about the darkness there. Unnatural.

The light was sucked from the air and concentrated on the figure tucked behind one of the huge trash bins. A soft silvery light echoed from the corner-- a rainbow in one color and arches of pale glow that shimmered in the air and hung before me.

I took one hesitant step forward as I remembered what our Classical Beasts professor said: during the harvest moon often classic creatures will be drawn to their historical homeland. They remember feeding there in ancient times and return ritualistically.

My heart stuttered in my chest and skin crawled like ants climbing up my arm. “Hello?” The word barely left my mouth and I slowly rounded the corner of the bin. 

A figure came into view and I gasped with a small shudder from my very core. It wasn’t big. It was delicate as a glass figurine in your grandmother’s cupboard and only came up to my waist in height.

The creature was slim and breakable-looking with fur the color of winter mornings and white so white it hurt. It was like looking at the negative of a photograph, it was white but in all the wrong ways. It’s fur glowed softly and its hooves were silver and gnarled.

I would never have called it a horse. It’s legs were too thin and face too fragile, long and regal and with a curling lovely white main that fell over it’s round eyes. They were intelligent eyes with a pink sheen and stars caught in them.

It’s horn was long and straight and wound round and round into an ugly looking point. It slowly raised its head and a tin can was hanging from its lips.

It was grazing as it would have centuries ago when this area was a clearing or a field. Trash lay around it in heaps where it was feasting on rotten meat and broken eggshells. I covered my nose as something foul wafted up in the air.

“H-hello.” I tried to remember my etiquette, but it was hard when I was stuck with a look from a massively ancient and powerful creature. I gave a small bow, “I am Lillian Oke. It-it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The creature kept staring and it’s left ear twitched.

“I was raised, um, not to believe in things like you.” I said with a tremor to my voice, “you were… against god's creation as they said. I was raised Mormon like that.” I tried to explain, as if I had to justify myself. “But I think you’re beautiful.”

I added the last part, but somehow I wasn’t sure I believed it.

“I am a virgin,” I announced to no one. “I was saving myself, before, um, I left the church. Or, well, they left me.”

It kept staring with it’s unblinking gaze and the slight movement of its lips as it chewed on the tin can in its mouth. “So… can I have a wish?” I asked slowly, steadily.

The unicorn must have reached something hard as a loud crunch shuttered through the small space. “Please?” I offered.

Another fraught moment passed and I could still hear Katie crying behind me. Weeping her heart out. I wondered if she had tried to make a wish.

The unicorn, slowly, lowered its head down.

I didn’t know what to do at first as it offered its head to me. Something primal told me to run, to turn around and bolt like a scared rabbit out from under the wheels of a car. This creature's eyes were the starry headlights and the horn was the windshields. But I wasn’t a rabbit.

I was a human. And I was worthy.

I fumbled forward. The stench of rotting meat became sharper and almost made my eyes water as I approached. The terrible wrong glow filled my vision and made me squint. She bowed her head down lower and my hands shook as my fingers slowly reached for her horn.

“I got kicked out by my family recently,” I whispered, “for the church thing and… a lot of things. But I think I was unhappy for a while even before that. Maybe I’ve never been happy.” I confessed to her elegant soft ears, “so this is my wish.” I grabbed onto the horn and it was cool to the touch, perfectly smooth, and seemed to tingled up my arms with an electric pulse. “I want to be happy.”

The unicorn gave a slight snort and pawed the ground. I held onto the horn for a hard moment and the pearl-soft surface seemed to warm under my fingers. “I want to be happy.” I repeated more strongly, “I want to be-- Ow!” I let go as the horn began to burn.

I almost fell on my ass as I backed away from the creature. I checked to make sure my hands weren’t burned, but they seemed as they always did. I looked up again as the unicorn lowered her head and bit down on a broken beer bottle.

Her teeth were charcoal black and twisted like corkscrews.

“Come on,” Katie reached for me. “We gotta get out of here.” Tears were slipping from my eyes without me noticing and I watched as the unicorn gnawed on chunks of glass with its twisted teeth and black spit. I turned, grabbed Katie’s hand, and ran.

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

The sidewalk beat hard against my sneakers and the rain came down in sheets as we entered back into Katie’s block. The street lights were almost all flickering or completely gone out by then and Katie was shivering. “I have to go home,” she said as she looked toward me. Her eyes were red-rimmed and unfocused. “I have to check on my mom.” “Okay?” She looked down at her feet, “I know I shouldn’t have.” She reached for her phone, “but I figured if the wish was for someone else, it would be fine?” I nodded and Katie frowned at me. “I hear you.” I finally said and turned back to my own apartment. “Call me when you get there and let me know if everything’s okay.” “I’ll try.” She looked over her shoulder. “Are you happy with your wish?” I just nodded slowly. “Thanks for calling me.” I said and there was something lighter about my chest, like a weight had been lifted from it.

“Sure,” she said and put her head up. “And Lilly?” “Yeah?” She sniffed and wiped at her face, “I hope it works out alright.” 

“Yeah.” I walked in the opposite direction as I left Katie who I had known since we were roommates freshman year and somehow it felt strangely final. A slammed door behind us.

I don’t remember getting home that night, but I did manage to kick off my jeans this time and collapsed into bed.

I smiled into my pillow as I started to drift off. I could be happy after this.

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

My chest was even lighter the next day. A tune was playing in the back of my head and I sat up quickly instead of waiting to force myself awake like most mornings. I stretched and it was only when I lowered my hands that I shrieked. I yelled from deep inside my chest and threw my hands far away from my face. “No, no, no.” I ran to the restroom to look in the mirror.

I slammed into the bathroom door and held both my hands up into the light. I screamed again. Half of my pointer finger was gone and sticking out of the top of the knuckle was some sort of pale silvery shard.

“Oh no, fuck.” I cursed at my missing finger and slowly reached for the shard in its place. I put my finger along its sharp edge and sucked on my bottom lip. It was smooth like glass and seemingly weightless on my hand. “Ah fuck.” There were sayings about wishing on unicorns, but it didn’t feel like the time or the place to start googling them.

Instead, I went back to my pants and fumbled to get my phone out. It was at 7% battery and I used my left hand to flick open Katie’s number.

“Katie?” I said as she picked up on the second ring.

I heard a loud sniffle, “this isn’t a good time.” I gulped, “your mom?” She let out a heavy breath, “meet me at the school. Professor Masterson should be in his classroom today.” She made a strained sound, “I’m sorry Lilly.” I swallowed thickly, “was that not a unicorn last night?” She sniffed, “No.” She said softly, “I think it was.” She hung up the phone after that. I dug up the thickest pair of gloves I could find.

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

Professor Masterson was standing behind his desk with his glasses almost hanging off his nose and the lines on his face looking like canyons written in ink. He had that strain to his expression that he always wore every morning of every class I had attended.

Katie texted me that she was about to be late.

It was a hundred-seat classroom that was empty that day and the bright fluorescent lights overhead were almost pedestrian and slightly uncomfortable.

I looked left and right before jogging down the lecture hall stairs that led to the pit of the room. I wet my lips, “Professor.” I called weakly, “Katie Reynolds said you could meet with us today?” He glanced up and his expression somehow managed to tighten further before he looked back down at the text in front of him. “Did you learn nothing from my class?” He murmured and I looked down at my right hand.

“I’m a virgin,” I said softly. “All the books agree--” He shook his head, “your friend is going to be in a lot of trouble.” “I know.” I whispered, “but I think…” I reached for my hand, “I might be too.” His eyes went wide as the glove ripped off and there was a larger shard sprouting from my hand. The shiny white fragment was longer and sharper now and more of my finger was gone.

“Tsk,” he turned away and strolled over to the white board. “Do you know the other names for the unicorn?” I hung my head, “The protector of maidens?” He seemed to snarl, “The Unmaker according ancient Summerian.” He said slowly and purposefully wrote “The Unmaker” on the board, “The Reality Warper according to physicists.” He continued, “The breaker of matter according to poets.” He scrawled in his messy handwriting. “A protector, yes. Obsessed with purity. But purity… Ancient Chinese texts ironically sometimes refer to it as The Corrupter as well.” I looked down sheepishly at my corrupted hand. “But a wish granter.” He shook his head in disgust and looked down at my hand. “They were here long before we could write though. Long before humans learned to walk and long before this planet even existed.” He said in a hush. “And they do not understand humans in any fashion.”

I clenched my good hand, “alright, I fucked up.” I said sourly, “I wasn’t in a good place. Can you help me or not?” The professor faced the board, “What did you wish for?” I took the last final steps into the pit of the classroom. “To be happy.” I held up my hand and the entirety of my right pointer finger was gone. “What is it turning me into?” “Something that can be happy.” He whispered without looking at me.

His words echoed in my head: Unicorns do not understand humans in any fashion.

The silence that followed was all-consuming.

“What is it turning me into?” I repeated and somehow found that I couldn’t cry. I blinked and rubbed at my eyes but the tears weren’t coming. They never would again.

He turned back to me. “I don’t know.” I looked back to my hand and watched in slow horror as more of my finger receded into nothing and more of something else appeared there. “But if I were you I would make calls to who you need to make calls to before the end of the day.”

My chest was even lighter than before and I realized it wasn’t my depression disappearing. But perhaps the process of being slowly unmade was always going to be painless one.

[reverseblackholeofwords]

Alltha

(Here’s another teaser! This might be the last one before we release the first chapter... maybe one more. We’ll see! This one is much fluffier than the last one, for sure, though haha)

Medina, Ohio

June 1998

    Sunlight hitting one side of his dark hair, Nathan Smith woke as the rusted Dodge truck rolled over a pothole in the gravel and up the driveway of a prim and proper two-story farmhouse, all white with painted shutters and window boxes spilling over with petunias. Through a layer of grime covering the windshield, Nate could pick out a tire swing hanging from a large oak tree just around the side of the house, a bike parked against the garage wall, and a vegetable garden overflowing with ripe tomatoes, cucumbers, and squash. It was like something out of a dream, a weird, unicorn jumping over the rainbow dream.

    The pick-up truck squealed to a stop just outside the garage where a squeaky-clean minivan was parked. John Smith cut the engine and shouldered the driver’s seat door open. His combat boots crunched in the gravel around the side of the truck to the bed where he pulled out a duffel bag full of clothes and a green army surplus bag.

    “Come on, kid,” his gruff voice called out as he moved the green bag into a silver tool chest in the back of the truck and locked it tight, “You really going to sit in there all day? Get your stuff.”

    Nate, barely nine years old but still small for his age, reacted like he’d stuck his finger in a socket and hopped out of the passenger’s side onto thick, green grass. His black Converse, practically falling off his feet, raced around to stand at his dad’s side, right where he belonged as he took his bag and slung it onto his thin shoulder. He was certain that neither he or his dad were supposed to be in a place this nice, though. Dingy motels, the tiny guest rooms of old friends or family, sure, but a magazine cover come to life? No way.

    Then the screen door on the front porch swung open, and a woman with long blonde curls and an apron on over her jeans and simple white blouse leaned out to wave at them. “John!” she called and came down the front steps to meet them. Nate froze, half behind his father, when her moss green eyes turned on him. “And this must be Nathan! You’ve gotten so big since I last saw you! I bet you don’t even remember me.” She extended her hand. Her nails were short, painted pink, and Nate still couldn’t move.

    John cleared his throat, and Nate’s spine straightened, his hand shooting forward like a shot. He gave her his best smile as the cicadas whirred and a gentle, summer wind blew.

    “Hi,” he finally muttered and dropped his gaze back to his grass-stained shoes and the ankles of his jeans that were so long they had ripped in the back beneath his heels.

    Mary hugged his dad, and Nate could smell her perfume - more flowers, he thought. Mostly he was just amazed, unable to imagine what kind of world a lady like this must live in. But, hey, if this was her house… And suddenly his eyes detected movement up on the porch again, someone behind the screen door peeked out at them. Mary followed his gaze and made a motion with her hand like she was calling someone out.

    “Come on, Matthew! Come meet the infamous Smiths!” She said those last two words like a joke, but Nate had heard them before, spat like poison. He shivered a bit in the summer heat as a boy not much older than him pushed out from behind the door and bounded down the steps of the front porch in cargo shorts and a fresh t-shirt, his brown hair with a tint of his mother’s gold shining in the sun. “This is John,” Mary explained as one of her hands came to rest on Matthew’s shoulder, “and his son Nathan. They’re going to be staying with us now, remember?”

    Matthew regarded both the Smiths with sharpened interest in his hazel eyes, but soon, he offered a wide grin that shone with silver braces. “I’m Matthew,” he said to John, and to Nate, “I’m eleven and a half. How old are you?”

    To which Nathan quietly replied, “Nine,” watching his shoes again.

    Mary gave her son’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Matty, why don’t you show Nathan around the house a little while John and I talk some things over? Put his things in your room, okay?”

    “My room?” Matthew whined, but Mary shushed him.

    At the thought of leaving his dad’s side, Nate stiffened again, but John gave him a gentle shove towards Matthew who tilted his head at Nate and frowned, a little unsure of these two intruders, “Okay.”

    They climbed up the front porch steps together and into the house where the summer heat slipped away and smells from the kitchen made Nate’s stomach rumble. The carpet beneath his shoes sucked most of the noise away as Matt raced towards the staircase only to realize that Nate lagged behind, looking at everything. Photographs lined the walls of Matthew and Mary in a hundred different places, smiling and laughing. Little knick knacks adorned shelves stuffed with books. Fresh flowers sat in a glass vase full of water on the dining room table where a big window looked out onto the front lawn where John and Mary were talking in hushed tones.

    “Um, are you okay?” Matthew took a step towards the scrawny, younger boy with the oversized hoodie drooping off one shoulder. “Hello?” Matt waved a hand in front of Nate’s eyes, but the kid frankly looked terrified as he watched John and Mary through the window. Watched as his dad kissed Mary, smiling at her, happy, and felt a realization drop heavy into the pit of his stomach.

    They were staying here, and not just for a few days.

    Nate dropped his bag on the floor and bolted for the backdoor that he saw past the staircase, through the kitchen. He launched himself down the back steps and dropped behind the big oak tree he noticed when they drove up. His head between his knees, dust kicked up from his sudden stop settled on his dark hair. He tugged at the hoodie around him, then at his hair. Nothing seemed to stop the feeling that he was being chased by something.

    As he tried to calm his erratic breathing, Nate heard the backdoor open and close again. Footsteps through grass thudded closer until they froze, a few steps away, and the boy bristled, waiting for them to approach. Instead, the footstops turned away, and someone sank down onto the tire swing, the rope creaking under the sudden weight. 

    After a moment, his curiosity got the better of him, and Nate peaked up over his folded arms, quickly spotting who had found him. Matthew kicked at the ground with the toes of his shoes in an attempt to spin himself. He glanced up at Nate, noting that Nate was watching him, a bewildered look on his face.

    “My mom says I should be tall enough to push myself in this now, but it’s still hard.” His toes brushed the dry dirt patch beneath the swing as he made another attempt, but instead, he squawked in surprise when he suddenly slipped into the center hole of the tire, stuck kicking his feet helplessly. “I’m stuck!”

    Nate glanced up at Matthew through scared, angry tears before hopping onto the tire and pulling Matt up out of the hole. He dropped down onto the swing beside Matthew with a note of pride in his blooming smile.

    “Thanks!” Matt grinned, a hint of mischief in his hazel eyes, and Nate thought that maybe he’d been tricked somehow. And that maybe he didn’t mind so much. “I guess maybe it really does take two people, huh?”

    “Nah,” Nate said, leaning back from Matt and letting his head hang out as they spun slowly. “It just took one person with ‘Alltha.’”

    Matt screwed up his nose. “Alltha?”

    “All-tha brains!” Nate shouted and giggled at his own joke as the other boy snorted.

    Matt leaned towards Nate and poked him playfully until Nate wiggled his way back into a sitting position to look at him. “Will you push me?”

    Nate scoffed. “You push me!”

    Matt raised an eyebrow at him. He wasn’t sure what to think of the kid, as skinny and frightened as a stay kitten, but with undeniable spark. Matt always did want a little brother, though. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he challenged.

    “Best two out of three!” Nate shouted back, and they set about deciding who would push who first as Mary watched from the window.

    “John,” she whispered and motioned for him to come over. He peered out the window just as Nate hopped off the swing and spun Matt around just as fast as he could before hopping back on. They rode around and around, clinging to one another just to stay on, laughing so hard that John and Mary could hear them even inside.

    “So,” John asked and pressed a kiss to Mary’s hair, “have you picked out a dress yet?”

[gemstoneconstellations]

Pretty Pretty Princess

Summary: Kaminari’s daughter wants to play dress up, so he becomes a princess for the evening.

Wordcount: 1808

“Mommy, can we play dress up?” You wave a tired hand at your daughter, who was following you around the room. You could feel her tugging onto your dress as you laid out paper plates and plastic silverware.

   Today was a special day; it was the baby shower for the unborn twins inside your belly. Lucky for you, they have been calm so you can get things done, but now your six year old is demanding your attention. “Miuko, I can’t. I’m setting up the party for your siblings. Today we get to find out if the babies are boys or girls.”

   Miuko puffed out her chubby cheeks, pulling on her dirty blonde pigtails. “But I wanna play princess tea party!” Her hair started to become staticy and her strands started to stand on end as she crossed her arms, pouting on the couch.

 “Heheh, now she looks like her dad when she does that. She’s so cute all the time, you forget her dad is Denki.” Kyouka came into the room, holding the cake for the party. Momo followed close behind her with balloons. Oh thank god, the other adults are here to help.

   You sigh happily as the girls came over to you and gave you side hugs. “Hey, Kyouka, that’s rude!” Speak of the devil, your husband pouted as he walked over to you. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he showered your face in loving kisses. “Hello my beautiful, darling, glowing, light-of-my-life wife. How are you feeling? How are the little lightning bugs?” His hands wandered down to your belly; the twins seemed to sense their father, as they shifted inside you...

   “We are good, don’t worry. Just worried about getting the party together in time for everyone to get here…” You looked back down at your daughter and then motioned your husband closer to whisper in his ear. “I think Miu is feeling a bit left out. She’s been begging to play princess all morning.”

   Denki looked down at his pouting little girl and then winked at you. “Oh man honey, I don’t think I can help with decorating. I’m really bad at it! I guess I have to keep myself out of the way. Hey Miu, do you know what daddy could do while we wait for the party?”

   Miuko gasped, jumping up and down on the couch. “Princess tea party!”

   Denki let out a dramatic gasp as he grabbed his daughter's hand. You giggled at his ‘excitement’ as you mindlessly rubbed your belly. “Princess tea party?! That sounds like sooooooo much fun! Let’s play in your room!” The two of them skipped down the hall; your daughter’s bubbly voice could be heard all the way to her room.

   “Man… that was cute.”

   “Makes you want a child of our own, Kyouka?”

   “M-M-Momo!”

   ~

   The party was still being set up when the guys showed up. Sero, Kirishima, and a Bakugo being dragged via headlock by Kirishima. Which meant they were sent to see where Denki was since they couldn’t be trusted to help or keep fingers away from snacks. “Holy shit! Pwahahahahahah! What the heck Kaminari?!” Both Sero and Kirishima fell to the floor, laughing at the sight before them.

   Denki had bows, clips, and glitter in his hair with random braids everywhere, as well as messy sparkly pink eyeshadow that didn’t stop at his eyelids and Barbie pink lipstick. Denki was sitting at his daughter’s play table, squeezing his large body onto one of the mini child chairs.e.

   “Is that an effing tutu, dunce face?” Bakugo, who was filtering his words in front of Miuko, pointed to the frill around Denki’s waist.

   “Yes, yes it is. And my name is Princess Dazzling Unicorn Sparkle.” Denki stated his new title proudly, taking a pretend sip from a very small plastic pink teacup, pinky out and everything. He is not ashamed that he plays with his daughter or that he lets her use him as a dress-up doll.

   Miu hopped to her feet, dressed in one of her princess costumes from Halloween. She ran over to the men that were more than triple her size. “Uncle Ei! Uncle Hanta! Uncle Suki! Are you here to play too?!” She grabbed Kirishima’s and Sero’s hands, pulling them and forcing them to sit at the table as well. It was amusing to see someone as big and bulky as Red Riot sitting in a chair that was smaller than one of his calves.

   “Uuuhhhhh…” The men looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Miu was looking at them with big puppy dog eyes; there was no way they could fight it. They both gave reluctant nods, but were rewarded with one of the brightest smiles they'd ever seen on Kaminari’s daughter’s face.

   “Eff that. I’d rather help with the dumb baby shower.” Bakugo tried to turn away, but small hands glued him to where he stood.

   “Pleeeaaasssse Uncle Suki? It won’t be as fun without you. I wanna play with you too.” Bakugo flinched at the tears starting to flow out of her eyes. Small sparks of electricity buzzed around her. If there is one thing Bakugo learned over the years from being around the small Kaminari child is to avoid any possible tantrum, at all costs. There is no way someone who didn’t have an electric quirk would survive. The moment he let go of the doorknob, she knew she’d won. “Yay, you are going to be Princess Butterfly Glitter Bomb!”

   ~

   You sighed from your spot on the couch; all the energy you’d had before had been sucked away when the twins decided to switch spots inside your stomach. “Alright, everything is set up. We just have to lay out the snacks and wait for everyone to show up. I’ll get the boys and the princess to come out and join us.”

   Walking down the hall, you could hear your daughter telling the story of how her prince in shining armor came to rescue her. “That’s stupid. Why would you wait for some dude to save you? You can do it yourself.” Ah, that was Bakugo talking.

   “But I want to be saved! My prince will give me a kiss!” Slowly, you opened the door; the first thing you see is your daughter being pampered by two pairs of hands. One was skillfully putting winged eyeliner on her, while the other was delicately placing flowers inside her French braided golden hair. Your eyes widened as you opened the door more; you immediately placed a hand over your mouth to hold back a snort.

   “You can fight some dragon on your own with your quirk, why wait for some dumb prince?” Bakugo, who was applying makeup to your daughter, had a butterfly clip holding back his bangs, a large amount of bright sparkly pink eyeshadow and neon pink lipstick. The makeup must of have been from her princess makeover kit that Denki had bought her for her birthday.

   “Katsuki, you are missing the point. She wants to be swept off her feet. To be romanced. You did that for me, bro.” Kirishima, the manliest and largest man of the Bakusquad, had many different assortments of colorful sparkly costume bracelets hooped around his spikes, flowers drawn in what you assume is the same red lipstick that was currently on his lips on his cheeks, and is that… your eyelashes from your Halloween costume last year?

   To the side of him was Sero, who was holding his hands out to Kirishima. “Shut up and focus on Soy Sauce’s nails. Anyways, you don’t need to be saved to be smooched, especially not from some random prince.” Sero was frowning down at his nails as Kiri continued to paint. The tape hero didn’t look much different to the redhead; his hair was in numerous ponytails that were being held up by beaded hair ties and bow; he had been given the purple lipstick.

   Your daughter held up the toy that she was clutching to herself right into Bakugo’s face, interrupting his work on her eyes. “It won’t be a random prince! Ingenium will save me!”

   “Glasses? Really?” Bakugo grabbed her face again, finishing the last bit of her eyeliner wings.

   Kaminari placed the final flower in his daughter’s hair. He was the most put together out of the rest; most likely he’d put his makeup on while your daughter did the rest of the guys. “She could do worse than our old class president. As long as she’s happy and he treats her right, I’m happy.”

   “All done.” Kirishima cheered as he closed the bottle of nail polish.

   Sero held up his hands to look at Kirishima’s work with an exasperated look; he was obviously not enjoying this as much as the others. “This is going to be hell to take off… why sparkles… I can’t imagine having a daughter who makes you dress up like this…”

   Kirishima leaned onto an open palm perched on his knees. “I don’t know bro, I feel kind of pretty.”

   With a straight face, Bakugo looked up at the redhead without any hesitation and said, “You are always pretty. Homo intended.”

   “Awww bro.”

   Now that no one was holding Miuko’s attention, she looked over to see you and excitedly stood up pointing to her face. “Mommy! Look! We princesses!”

   You giggle as she ran around the room, presenting each man and describing what she did to them with glee. “I see. Will your highnesses please join us in the living room; the party should be starting soon.”

   Sero sighed with relief as they all got to their feet. “After we get this makeup off…”

   That was the wrong thing to say. Miuko stomped her feet standing between Sero and Kirishima. “No! Princesses can’t be seen without their makeup! What if your prince comes? You have to look battle ready! Let’s go Princess Shiny Rainbow Bubbles and Princess Strawberry Sunshine Sugar.” She took Sero and Kiri’s hands and you watched as your six-year-old pulled the full-grown pro hero men out of the room.

   Kiri reached out and grabbed Bakugo’s hand, pulling him along as well with a cheeky smile. “Lucky me, I already found my prince…er, princess.”

   “Shut up, you sap.” Bakugo rolled his eyes as he let himself get dragged along.

   You were giggling to yourself as you could hear people gasping in surprise, soon followed by loud laughter. Denki came up beside you, offering his arm for you to take and escort you. You couldn’t help but chuckle and make a comment on his appearance. “You look beautiful, honey.”

   Denki flipped his hair dramatically with his free arm as the two of you walked. “I know, right?” You are sure the children in your stomach did somersaults due to your muscles flexing from how hard you laughed that day.

[jojoreadwhat]

christmas eve will find me, where the love light gleams. / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

- One Week Later: Winter Break

Lucy's POV.

A White Christmas in White Plains. Running on two hours of sleep as the night before when my brother stayed in my room. Watching Christmas shows and singing along to all the carols. Anxiously waiting but falling asleep before we could hear the thuds of the sleigh on our rooftop. Hoping to hear the goodbyes of the bells jingling as Santa went on with his tight schedule.

Only to be woken up by my enthusiastic mother, her emerald green eyes shining like the green lights hanging in our living room. My eyes meeting the grays of outside. My nose meeting the tickle of her peppermint tea. Tenderly nudging us awake as Christmas had finally arrived. My dad peering into the room as his big arms wrapped around me. Scooping me up from my snug bed, my mother pulling Eric by the hand as the child in her led us to the excitement around the tree.

The ivory colored living room glistened in a parade of different colors. Red, green, pink and blue draped along the ceiling. Paper snowflakes, oddly shaped from my brother and I hanging from the ropes. Tinsel swirled in between, smiling at the reminisce of watching my mom and dad struggling to hang it all over the day after Thanksgiving.

Standing tall with five points in gold shining on the top to guide us home like the North Star. The multi-colored evergreen tree was adorned with different ornaments all over from when we decorated it the night before. Strings of colored beads and garlands hugging around it. Watching as the Lionel toy train road choo-chooed around the track on the snow-like tree skirt.

Exuberance running high. Oh's and ah's coming from Eric and I's jumpy voices as we opened all the things from our letters to Santa. Beaming from ear to ear as we talked the night before of all the things we hoped for. Were being eagerly unwrapped from pretty patterned paper.

I sat in front of the fireplace, my feet pretzel legged under me. In the new footies I got the night before. Patterned with unicorns and rainbows. Eric assumptions being right as I brushed the hair of my Lil Miss Magic. Watching the brush turn her from pink to purple to blonde in seconds. In a daze that it was in my hands in the first place.

Listening to the synthetic sounds of Eric's blue Gameboy that he asked for all year. Giggling as he lost to his game of Pokemon. Stuffing our faces with the fresh baked goods Santa failed to finish.

Looking over at my dad in his red flannel pajamas, complimented with a Santa hat to match his slight grey beard. Nodding off on the couch every once in a while, as early mornings caught up with him. Only for them to be woken up when my mother came in from the kitchen. The aroma from the pineapple glazed ham followed her from being prepared for dinner.

Taking a seat next to my dad, watching as the couch sunk as she relaxed. I found myself admiring my mom. Looking so pretty. Her long dark chocolate hair, hanging over her shoulder blade. Wearing this red long silky nightgown with a chunky white knit duster. Her smile glistening with the silver and golds in the room. Just before her lips met the brim of her oversized purple mug. Indulging in it all as we found Christmas to be our favorite holiday.

++

The resemblance of the gray overcast back home, peered through the windows in London. I woke up with that memory playing out in my mind. Closing my blue eyes as it clashed with the gray. Only to go back to remembering fifteen years ago like it was yesterday.

From the glowing excitement of our abundance of gifts and treats. How my brother let take a turn on his scooter that my mom gave up on telling him not to ride in the house. My heart beating so fast as I road around the couch. Feeling my heart suddenly warm up when my dad intertwined his fingers with hers. Muttering little 'I love you's' and sharing a kiss or two as the joy overlaid.

It was the first lesson I was giving in love. How it should feel, what it should look like. That you didn't need to just love one thing as everything around went and you felt it all at once. As long as that same warm feeling progressed inside you each time, you were in love.

I was beginning to feel this warmth again as chills overwhelmed the exposed skin where Matty's duvet missed.

I would've never known that one slipping glance and a misstep into a pool would land me here. Land me falling ever so hard into the depths of Matty. Completely symmetrical as he was so much more than just this boy persuading a mystery. A boy of rare perception when he spoke, only to realize how misleadingly radiant he was behind his dark disposition.

Focusing on where that gleamed feeling was coming from as he stood peering out the window. His dark chocolate curls slightly lax and napped from his neglect to brush them. Gazing as they frolicked, noticing how they were beginning to meet his shoulders. Shirtless in his famous black jeans below his back dimples. Smiling as I recalled the light pink markings on his back from the night before.

Observing as his muscles danced everytime his hand roused to his mouth. Smoke illuminating from those alluring lips I craved. Colliding with the dark roasted essence swirling into the airwaves from the mug in his hand. I was in awe with his stance. Unaware of my awaken presence in the room as it was my turn to commend.

Disappearing into my arrangement of thoughts. I hadn't realized that Matty had caught a glimpse of me staring till I heard the light clatter of his mug hitting his dresser. Putting out his cigarette in a glass of water.

"Morning," He smiled, then. "Did you sleep well?" As a little hum vibrated through my lips. Tilting my head against the pillow. Watching the rise and fall of his body as he dampened the mattress. Parting my legs with his knees. Crawling till his figuration was poised over me and a hand caressing over my jaw.

He pressed his lips to mine, "Last night was fun." He recalled, my reflecting in my mind as we laid on his bed in the early hours.

Laughing and carrying on as the alcohol consumed and the weed lightened the dark for us. Smoke and wine on our breath, stinging as my lips were still swollen. Eternally glowing down as I looked beyond to the wall that Matty had me pinned to. Remembering how it felt when I was a mess under his tender touch that held me, became raw and potent.

My body being extinguished of any lingering slumber as his lips rejuvenated my senses. Tingling my skin as they trailed down my jaw and to my neck. My lips falling open as they disclosed in a soft whimper sound. Feeling his own form into a heart before his brown eyes met mine.

"Round two, maybe?" He smirked, my cheeks mixing crimson on a empty palette. I sighed, longing for the matter to build again. Only time was catching up far too quickly.

I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling him slightly weigh into my palm at the touch. "We have to leave soon." I reminded, then. Today being the day I'd bring Matty home for all my family to meet. Soon stepping foot into New York on Christmas Eve.

I watched Matty's eyes fleet to the red lit clock, till they deviously meet mine. Settling my hands on his broad shoulders. Flipping him to where I straddled his frame, his bewilderment getting the best of him. Feeling him rising under my ache, his hands resting to my waist.

"I believe we've got enough time." He said, peering up at me with a smirk. Moving one of his hands to the exposed skin of my thigh beneath the sheet I gathered. Becoming a canvas under his finger as he made little infinities, even marking me with an 'M'. It's simplicity nearing me to let it all happen and unravel.

I sighed, "No we don't." Tracing the embracing hands of the tattoo on his chest. "Why's that?" He questioned, tugging at the blanket slightly.

My blue eyes turning pure glass as they looked back him. Biting my lip at the thoughts that cascaded through my mind in that moment, "Because" I began, my hands trailing down his chest to his navel. My selfish need getting the best of me as I gently rested on him. "There's not enough time for what I'd like to do."

Watching his lids fall and brows furrow. His plump lips flat lining as a raspy hum vibrated through them. His eyes rich in golds and browns as the glared at me, my body jolting over him as he sat up. His lips not even centimeters away, feeling the warmth of his breath.

"Your dad is not going to like this corruption I've caused." He smiled before pressing those lips to mine. Giggling in between collisions, wrapping my arms around his neck. Tangling my fingers into his hair, before I brought my eyes to his, fixing the disarray. "He's not going to like that I enjoy it." I smirked. Feeling chill against my chest as Matty slipped open my sheet, using it to pull me closer to him. "Now, let's get ready before I purposely make time."

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

Matty's POV.

I sat anxiously on the edge of my seat during the flight. Unfamiliarly nervous as it wasn't the idea of being up astronomically in height. Instead when I would be taking two feet onto the unknown grounds of New York. Doing so many things in my twenty-five year life-span. Not once thinking that meeting the family of a girl I was falling amicably for. Would have me in such a rut, mentally rehearsing how to even say 'hello' and not sound ludicrous.

I was charming needless to say as I yield at the bombarding sounds of my own horn. I got along with many, all different types of people as I clinged to others so easily. Feeding the idea of attention I loved and wanted others to devour.

Specially with mothers as my mystic, dark persona had them wishing they were eighteen again. Truly living the idea of the bad boy image they only imagined. One sided as the fathers were never much of a fan because I reminded them of themselves. Leisurely taking hearts and moving on to the next when the sound became to familiar.

That was an old retrospect of me. Sure I wore the same leather jacket, paraded in metal, grunge band shirts. Smoked like a chimney and liked lying in the wonders of a woman. All still potent on the exterior as the interior was becoming a bit more velvet. Finding this comfortable closeness with another, enjoying the beat of the eternal drum that played on.

I looked over at this walk of life I crossed paths with. Her Buddy Holly glasses resting on the brim of her nose. Sitting comfortably with her tight covered legs under her jean shorts crossed over the other. Smiling at the loose green and white flannel she fished out of my closet that fit her perfectly. Complimenting the Jane Austen lithographic shirt tucked in. A book in her lap as her eyes grazed upon the lines, waiting as she silently thought unaware.

Lucy was implementing a part of me that did not see the light of day before the night I met her. Never in a million thinking I'd be flying across the pond. Looking for approval of the ones who brought up this, so extraordinarily unreal human. Situated so calmly as she already found acceptance when she found the same closure in me.

I brushed back the dark loose hairs falling from her messy bun, slipping them behind her ear. Derailing her from her oblivion till her eyes met mine, perfectly lined with a point at the end. Shined in bright blues with gold around her pupil. Squinting a bit as her cheeks rose with the curl of her lightly coral lips.

"Hey," She greeted, closing the book she folded the page to. Bringing her little hand over my hand on the arm rest. "We're almost there." I replied, then. Watching as she tried to mask a big smile, failing terribly but ever so sweet.

++

When we arrived to the airport, we were immersed into the heavy crowd. Observing all the ricocheting sounds and all the gatherings. Seeing all the families being brought into light, hugging tight as some just arrived like Lucy and I. Some also heading out to another place from here, thinking about how I almost would've been like the ones left behind. Feeling the rush of the holidays as they all wanted to settle in the glowing rafts of home.

Lucy being one of them as eagerly pulled me along. Her hand intertwined with mine as she led. Scanning impatiently for the two people she was longing to see. "Where are they?" She questioned, looking behind and past me as she tried covering all her bases.

Only to hear her gasp when she spotted a little sign reading "Sunshine has arrived in the grays of White Plains!" Watching her face light up ironically brighter than the lights in the place. Dropping my hand as she ran her family, trailing behind swiftly as I felt my heart beating uncontrollably.

She leaped into the arms of a tall, slender building of a brunette. Her brother, Eric that I heard nothing but fond memories about. How he showed her her first Smiths record. Saving up money for the complete season of Friends, that she quotes all the time. His light hazel eyes closing as he hoisted her up, evident that he missed her just as much. "Hey there kid!" He greeted, steadily placing her back on the ground.

"Look at you! Have you grown an inch or two?" He began, Lucy sucking in her teeth at the unbelievable recognition. Watching as his bright smile became soft in the sight of me. Diverting our glance as Lucy brought her attention the other man along side Eric, her father.

Lucy talked about how her dad barely has spoken since she has left. Mainly because he was still trucking after twenty years. Finding new places he hadn't seen in his years on the road. Trying to find time to call in as he did so, but she also knew that her being the one away this time. Was just as hard on him as it was on her.

"Hey dad," She croaked a bit, wrapping her arms around the tall man. His beard completely coated peppered around his mouth.

Standing taller than her brother, in light blue denim jacket. His red flannel shirt playing peek-a-boo at the collar, embracing his only little girl in his long, broad arms. "So glad to see you home." His southern accent mixed with New York tongue.

When he migrated up the states when his heart found home with a exciting, city waitress. Tightening his arms once more with a peck on her head before she pulled away. Lucy put her hand into mine, blushing as it became aware she's never brought a boy home.

"Matty, this is my brother Eric and my dad Jerry." She introduced, then. "Guys, this is Matty.. My boyfriend." Sensing my cheeks starting to warm as the words fell from her mouth like she's been practicing. Seeing her face flush as she looked worried I'd protest, but never in the slightest when all I wanted her to do was say it again.

I shook hands with the two gentlemen, firm and strong. Slightly intimidated at any moment I could mess up and they could have my ass. Only to begin to feel relived when Eric flung his arm around my shoulder, "So, my sister says you're in a band?"

++

Lucy's childhood home was very quaint. Dressed up in Christmas lights against the light shade of blue, cascading on the block with a white porch front. Gushing with happy filled memories before you placed your foot on the first step. Nothing compared to the slight mansion of mine back home Cheshire. That lost all of it's fuzzy magic when my parents split.

She had taken me on a tour as we put our luggage in her childhood room. Stories were hanging on the walls, pictures of Lucy, Eric, her mother and father paraded. Listening to Lucy beaming as she told some in passing. Her first time riding a bike at seven. First day of high school. The corgi that use to prance along the wooden floors. All different events that paved Lucy's life, all sharing one thing similar as that same bright smile glistened.

Eventually settling after a slight induce food coma from her dad's home cook meal. I sat on the cream sofa in the olive green living room. String lights dangling from the ceiling, Lucy's fond memories painted clearly as her father and brother tried recreating the arrangement of snowflakes like her mother would.

"Remember when you spilled all the mod podge!" Lucy recalled around the oddly round evergreen as Eric and her continued on traditions of decorating the tree on Christmas Eve. Leaning up onto her tippy toes to hook an ornament near the top. Admiring a little shiny red ball with a tiny fingerprints disguised as snowmen as it twirled on the hook in my hands.

Eric trying to wrap garland around the tree, only to be defeated when he remembered Lucy's summon. "Yeah, and then you put your hand in glitter that took weeks to get off" He remarked, her little angelic laugh bantering as she threw a candy cane at him in protest.

Reminiscing on all the various ornaments that were made when they were kids. Glancing at Lucy who would dance around the tree to all the carols she remembered. In her first gift of night a red and white snowflake pajama set that was slightly too big. Matching the red flannel set that the gentlemen had given me. Pulling me up to help with some of the tall places. Taking her hands into mine as we swayed to the jolly harmonies.

When the tree was lit up, dolled in pretty lights. Overloaded with ornaments and garlands hugging around. Lucy put on a kettle of water for her mother, Emma's famous peppermint tea. Sparsing it between the three of us as her father made an exit to meet some of his pals earlier on. Getting caught up in a game of questions as her brother asked about my band, what I was studying and bonding as we talked Quentin Tarantino films.

He took the last sip of his mug, before letting out a gulping sigh in delight. His hazel eyes trailing as he ran his finger of the rim of the cup. "I miss her a lot." He bluntly stated, Lucy smirking a bit as she grabbed his hand. "Me too. But she's here, always." She reassured when she looked back at the tree. Taking a double glance when she realized her mother's gold star was not placed on the top.

"I'll help you." I exclaimed before she went to explain. Smiling at how I was observant in her flee of thoughts. She went over to the mantel where the star with a string sat. Straightening it out a bit as it was becoming old in age, only to cherished till it couldn't uphold anymore.

With one swift move, I bent down to till I grabbed Lucy's thighs that rested on my shoulders. Watching her little arms outstretch and place the topper, perfectly straight and aligned. Setting her back down on the cricks of the wooden floor.

Eric smiled in awe, "He's a keeper, Lu!" He remarked, walking back in from the kitchen. His cargo tan jacket in hand, "I'm heading to Marco's for some drinks. Want to come?" He offered, then. "They sure miss ya." Adding, placing the jacket on one arm at a time.

"I'd love to, but I'm very tired from my trip." Lucy excused, fixing the collar of his jacket. Eric nodded, "What about you, Matty? I'm sure the guys would love to hear about your music." He asked, smiling lightly at his kind gesture. "I think I'm going to turn in as well. You know, jetlag." I replied, smiling with a nod.

I helped Lucy in the kitchen after her brother left to gallivant. Her running and soaping them up under the warm water. "So, this visit isn't bad after all." She remarked, recalling the days before inching to our flight.

Fabricating different scenarios as to why my appearance would be a havoc. I took the dishes Lucy finished washing over with a cloth to dry and put them on the dish drainer. "It's only been four fours." I reminded.

Leaning my back against the counter as I watched her wipe down the kitchen. She chuckled a bit, smirking at my response. Watching as she gliding the rag around the sink. "My brother offering you out for drinks is a big deal." She replied, draping the rag over the faucet. She stood in front of me, wrapping her little arms around my waist. Planting her head against my chest "Trust me, they like you." She said reassuringly, before leaning up to kiss my chin.

++

Lucy and I retreated to her room. With a faded coat of pink fluorescing off the panels. Old artwork hanging scattered in the mix of transition as she got older. Her love for music progressing with The Beatles to PJ Harvey. Showing off the books that were far too many for her tiny room back in London. Connecting her fascination for a dim room with twinkle lights replicating the ones over the tapestry in her flat.

I lied within the purple sheets of her princess bed. Spooning her to my chest, feeling the hum of her body as it rose and fell steadily. Tracing a bit of her side with my fingertips as the hem of her shirt shifted. Listening to her huff when she aimlessly flipped through the channels. Each every other showing the same Christmas flick.

I went to reach for the remote in her hands when a famously recognizable knock sounded off the TV. Watching the little ginger singsonging to her sister through the door. To come out and build a snowman with her.

"Don't change this!" I insisted as I seen her finger graze the next button. Lucy looked back at me, "You like Frozen?" She questioned, then. Only to answer her back when I picked up from the chorus. Dramatically raising my hand in the air as I sang along.

Mouthing all the words to my favorite scenes and songs. Pressing my lips to her cheek, her neck and leaving her in stitches. Watching as Ana, Kristoff, Olaf and Svan went searching for Elsa to end the icy spell casted over Arendelle.

We lied there as the movie began to near towards the end. Ana turning to ice as she learned the powers she had no control over, protecting her sister Elsa from Hans. Hearing a light sniffle of Lucy's nose as the movie captured her heart like it did mine. Watching her gaze in glee when the ice melted over Ana, breaking the spell and putting Arendelle back to normal for the rest of coronation.

Ana and Kristoff finally realizing what they had in front of them after the time they spent with each other. Turning Lucy to face me in perfect timing--

"I could kiss you. I could. I mean, I'd like to. I–may I? We me? I mean, may we? Wait, what?" I repeated after Kristoff. Implementing a totally different form of kissing as it fell from my lips. Turning off the TV by the remote before I brought my attention back.

I looked down at her as she gazed back at me in question. "What?" She asked, then. Tilting her head against the pillow behind her.

"What's wrong?" She asked again, her naivety kicking in as I was silent. My mind, not so much.

That was the thing, nothing was wrong. Or that was my issue that nothing was wrong. Everything was right, it felt good and it scared me shitless. I had so many things running through my mind. What could go wrong during or after this but right now was all I was worried about and the words that have been hanging of the edge of my tongue for weeks.

Feeling her hands moving the curls from my face as I snapped back to reality. Feeling okay and nervous all at once. Meeting her eyes with mine again before I sat up.

"I love you." I said, then. Her blue eyes widening with every syllable that fell from my lips. "It's been weighing over my mind for a while now, it's something I've never experienced before." I began, "I can't quite put my thumb on it. The feeling just grows and I love you."

Lucy was just starring, listening to me mumble before she sat up. Smiling and growing closer to me.

"I can't explain much of it either." She said, "but I love you too." And feeling the weight lift before I pulled her even closer and kissed her.

[detectivejigsawpines]

The Barber of Gopher Road

Or, Stan finds his potential calling.

Here’s something funny and wholesome to (hopefully) make up for the emotional roller coaster the last two stories in this AU has put you through.

The front door opened, and Ford stomped in, carrying an empty satchel and grumbling to himself.

Stan, who was looking in the bathroom mirror and wondering if his ears had always been this big (getting a haircut recently seemed to have really made them stick out), peered out and saw him looking like a storm cloud with glasses.

“No luck?” he asked, turning off the bathroom light and going into the main room after his brother.

Ford dumped the satchel on the giant toe coffee table and flopped into one of the chairs which had been set up on either side of it.

“Mutter mutter unicorn mutter mutter mutter pure of heart mutter,” he replied.

Stan took a moment to process that.  “I’m gonna take that as a no.”

“The dumb unicorn said that I wasn’t pure enough of heart, okay?” Ford snapped.

“Pure of heart?  What does that even mean?”

Ford gave an irritable shrug, looking more like a sulky toddler than his usual semi-dignified self.

“Sounds kinda hinky,” Stan said, frowning.  “Cuz if that’s supposed to mean someone who’s never done anything wrong, that’s impossible.  Nobody’s ever been pure of heart unless you believe in Jesus and the Dalai Lama and stuff.”

“Stanley, the Dalai Lama is a real person.”

Stan was no longer listening, because the wheels of his brain were busy turning.  Absentmindedly he began pacing back and forth, in a way that was quite like his brother except that he was rubbing the back of his neck, brushing over the spot that used to be covered by his hair.

His hair…

Suddenly, eyes bright with an idea, Stan snatched up the satchel.  Then he headed for the kitchen and dug around in the drawer they used for miscellaneous items (which was always sticking because neither of them could remember to make sure the items were laid in properly) until he pulled out a pair of good sharp scissors.

“What are you doing?!” Ford demanded, chasing after him.

“Watch me, Sixer.  I’m gonna get you that unicorn hair.”

Ford let out an incredulous scoff.  “You? If I am not pure of heart by her standards, then you are definitely not-”

“See ya later.”

And Stan snatched the journal that contained the incantation to open the entry to the unicorn glen, and was out the door.

********

After a stop in town to pick up some extra supplies at the convenience store, Stan headed into the forest.  The glen was easily found and opened, even though he felt a little stupid reading the chant aloud. But at least it worked-even if it meant being nearly blinded by the horrendous rainbow light when he opened the giant golden doors.

It looks like a six-year-old girl’s backpack threw up all over this place, he thought, taking in the trees, the waterfall above the limpid pool, and above all, the unicorn posing curled up on a rock in front of the random rainbow which was hanging in the air for no apparent reason.

“You again!” the unicorn exclaimed when she saw him, leaping to her dainty hooves and stamping one of them in agitation.  “I told you, you are not pure of heart-!”

“You got the wrong guy, sister,” Stan said, putting his hands in his pockets.  “I’m his brother, Stan. Nice ta meet ya.”

The unicorn blinked her enormous purple eyes in bewilderment.  “Amazing!  I’ve never seen two humans who looked so much alike!”

Stan snorted.  “Eh, personally I think I’m the handsome one.  Anywho, I wanted ta see you for myself, and-”

“Only a human who is pure of heart may have some of my hair!”   The unicorn stamped her hoof again, and flared her nostrils in a dainty snort.

Stan barely refrained from rolling his eyes.  “Yeah, well, I’m probably not gonna make the grade, but feel free ta check.”

The unicorn, Celesta-whatever (Ford had mentioned hearing her name from the gnomes, but Stan had already forgotten the full thing), looked confused for a moment, but then jabbed her horn into his chest.

Stan resisted his next impulse, to smack away the sharp object being jabbed at him.

She’s not using it as a weapon, he reminded himself.  Be cool.

Sure enough, after the heart shape appeared for a few seconds, Celesta-thingy reared her head back.

“Yooooouuuuu are not pure of heeeeaaaaart!!!!!!” she wailed.  “And you didn’t take off your shoes when you came in!  You must leeeeeaaaaave!!!!!!!”

This time Stan was unable to resist rolling his eyes a tiny bit.  But he shrugged, and hoisted the bag higher up on his shoulder.

“Okay, fine by me.  If you wanna loaf around with your hair looking like that, what do I care?”

And he turned on his heel.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!”

Stan glanced over his shoulder, and hid a smirk at the look of shocked outrage on the unicorn’s face.

“Nothing, nothing.  Have a nice day.” He turned back around and headed for the exit-

Seconds later Celesta-whosit was in his path, teeth actually bared.  “What did you say about my hair?!  How dare you! My hair is beautiful and perfect!”

Stan chewed his lip, and did an indifferent shrug.  “Okay, if you say so.”

“What?” she demanded.  “Tell me what you’re implying this instant!”

“Oh, you don’t wanna-”

“TELL ME!”

Stan sighed in fake reluctance.  “Well, if you insist…” He took a deep breath.  “It’s just...your hair is completely last year’s style, okay?  I mean, have you looked at it recently?” He strode around her in a circle, plucking at it with the tips of his fingers and making disapproving noises.  “You’re behind the times, letting it grow all long like that-I’m surprised you haven’t been laughed out of the forest! And don’t even get me started on those awful split ends.”

“I do NOT have split ends!”   But now there was a waver of uncertainty in her not-so-angelic voice.

Stan shrugged, coming back to face her.  “Whatever you say, lady. All I’m saying is, give me fifteen minutes and I could fix you up real nice, make it so you could actually show your face outside.  But you obviously don’t want anyone touching your hair, so just don’t worry about it. See ya around-”

Seconds later he was being shoved bodily into the center of the glen, until he landed on his rear on a large rock (ow).  Then the unicorn draped herself in front of him, tossing her rainbow-colored locks until they were facing him.

Stan tried not to grin.

****

It was surprisingly relaxing, cutting the unicorn’s hair.  He hadn’t had much experience, but he did his best to keep it even, stuffing the chopped-off parts into the satchel.  He was almost done, when two more unicorns stepped into the glen from the other side of the pool.

“Hey, C-beth, you busy?  We were wondering-WHAT THE HECK?!”

Both of them stopped, jaws dropping practically to the ground.

Celesta-whatsit raised her head, the tip of her horn glowing.  “Oh, hi, guys!  This wonderful human is giving me a haircut to help me keep up with the times!”

Stan raised the hand not holding the scissors and waved to them.  ���How’s it hanging?”

And she’s not the last of her kind either.  These guys really are a bunch of lying jerks.

The pink one daintily stepped forward, head tilted in bewilderment.  “Keep up with the times?  What are you talking about?”

Stan trimmed the last piece, and cleaned off his scissors on his sleeve.  Maybe it would be best to grab the satchel and run with it...but suddenly he wanted to know if this would work.  “You guys really don’t get out much, do you? If you did you wouldn’t even have to ask.” He patted C-beth’s hide.  “Go on and take a look.”

The unicorn got to her hooves, and stepped over to the pool, where she peered in-and gasped.

Stan had turned her mane into a bob which stopped just at the base of her neck, and curled at the ends, so she suddenly bore an odd resemblance to some pictures of his grandma that his mother had shown them once.  It was a little ragged, and he hadn’t quite gotten it to look like the picture in one of the hairdo magazines he’d brought, but on the whole it was better than he’d worried it would turn out.

C-beth tossed her mane back and forth, eyes wide.

“I-it’s been so long since it’s felt this light,” she marvelled.  “I’m not sure how I feel about it…”

“Can you do my hair too?” the turquoise unicorn suddenly asked, bounding over to Stan.

“Yeah, me too!” cried the pink one.  “Cut my hair-I’ve had this same stupid ‘do since I was a foal!  Do you think you can do layers?”

“Man, we gotta tell the girls at the hooficure place!”

“We’ll pay you!”

Before Stan’s eyes, they briefly turned into wallets with hooves.

****

A few hours later, Ford stared at Stan, jaw dropped, as he emptied out a bag filled with rainbow colors.

“And I think I can probably get more if I go back tomorrow-they said they were gonna tell their friends, and they’ll want to keep up with the new ‘style’ too.  I’m gonna need some practice with haircuts, but maybe I can learn how ta do head massages or something too. And look!” He grabbed the enormous treasure chest he’d been given by the gushing unicorns, and pushed it open with his foot.  “We finally have treasure!”

Well, technically it had been him.  But still. Ford was the one who had found the unicorns in the first place, so he was kind of involved.

“...You tricked the unicorns into giving up their hair?” Ford asked in a tone of strangled disbelief.  “And they paid you for it?”

Stan grinned, and shrugged.  “Guess being a liar and a cheater works for me after all.  So, what’re you gonna do with this stuff?”

Ford still looked a little shell-shocked.  “Well, I-I need to study what sort of magical properties all of this has.  I’ve read all sorts of stories, but I don’t know how much is fact and how much is fiction yet.”

“Heh, you could probably use some of this to knit a sweater.”  Stan didn’t know why, but as soon as he said that it felt...oddly appropriate.

Ford snorted as he gathered up some of the hair and rushed off to the lab.

****

Word gets around the forest fast-soon enough other magical creatures show up wanting Stan to cut their hair for them. Fairies, wood nymphs, merfolk, even manotaurs who want to go with a buzz cut or something. Stan worries a little bit about how 'manly' of a job being a hairdresser is, but it works until or unless he can find one in the human world. And in the meantime, it keeps Ford happy by giving him plenty of samples to study, so win-win.