#at least none of the ones at the top art schools

[tedlebred]

it's the stressing-over-undergraduate-degrees-even-though-I'm-years-away hours, folks

[ventismacchiato]

mr. oblivious

The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Kuni, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.

scaramouche x g!n reader

established relationship, married, modern teacher au

2.7k words

a/n: sorry if it clogs up ur feed 😭 everytime i do the keep reading thing it crashes for me so, transferred from ao3 so if there’s any weird typos lmk

It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.

You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.

So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.

It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Timmie wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.

Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.

Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.

You brought it up to Kuni during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Kuni didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.

You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Kuni, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Venti, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Kuni sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Kuni never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.

“So, what’s your secret?” Venti sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so stoic Kuni to talk to you for longer than a minute?”

“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”

Venti and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.

“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Venti dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about KuniYn?” Lisa grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.

“What the hell is KuniYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Kuni? Was this their way of welcoming you?

“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.

And to your horror, a little splash of his coffee landed on the other male.

A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Bennett spilled his drink on Kuni the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.

“Careful,” Kuni mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.

“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Kuni and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”

“It’s fine,” Kuni assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.

You made sure to pointedly ignore Venti and Lisa’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.

You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Kuni’s name spoken for the nth time that day.

“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Kuni’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Luo insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”

“Like-like?” Qiqi drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“

“We should make them be a couple!” Klee giggled, clapping her hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Kuni is too strict for them but it’s okay.”

So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Kuni were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Kuni really not mentioned being married even once?

Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Kuni really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.

“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”

“Or boyfriends,” Klee giggled behind her hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted her on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Kuni’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Venti rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Hutao.

“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Hutao huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”

“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Xingqiu, the school’s librarian, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Kuni out on Valentine’s!”

“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.

“Clumsy as always,” Kuni murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Venti who was stifling a laugh.

“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Xiangling defended, hands on her hips.

“Lunch,” Kuni dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”

The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”

Kuni hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.

The moment he left all hell broke loose.

“SEE! I knew Kuni would make a move!”

“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"

“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”

You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Kuni’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Kuni?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.

Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.

“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Kuni, leaning back into it as Kuni gestured to his half finished take out box.

“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kuni work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.

“A crush?” Kuni repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”

“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”

“It never came up,” Kuni mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the brats were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”

“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Kuni to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.

“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Kuni shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.

“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.

Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Kuni’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.

The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.

Kazuha was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Kuni’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Kuni to groan and sadly flip through it.

“So how long have you two been together?” Kazuha drawled, leaning forward as Kuni shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Kuni actually sort of talked to, it seems even Kazuha hadn’t known of their relationship status.

“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Kazuha as he nodded, turning to make his leave.

“I’m so winning this bet–”

“What bet? KAZUHA GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.

At least it looked pretty.

“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”

“Venti, they are children,” Kazuha mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.

“As their other music teacher you should add it into the curriculum,” Venti huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”

“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Xingqiu pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.

“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Xingqiu mused.

“Coward,” Lisa reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”

“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.

“Hold up, you’re married?!” Venti shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”

“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Xiangling cried out, covering her mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”

Kazuha snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.

“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Xiangling scoffed, hitting Kazuha on the shoulder as he cackled.

“Pay up,” Kazuha grinned as you shook your head.

“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.

“Yikes, I told Kuni I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Lisa admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.

Kuni stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the basket, Kuni,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on pda, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Kuni’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.

Kuni merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet, you felt a little bad about putting him on the spot but you wanted to show off your husband for once!

“Pause,” Venti stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”

“I just lost so much money,” Lisa groaned, sucking her teeth and already pulling out her wallet as Kazuha gleefully counted his bills.

“I’m still processing,” Xingqiu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”

“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Kuni grew up,” you answered, firmly grasping Kuni’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.

“I owe Kazuha money?” Albedo questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”

“Suck my dick,” Kazuha grinned, opening his palm as Albedo sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.

“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Kuni complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you was pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Venti giggled, dodging the box of candy Kuni picked up and tossed at him.

“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Kuni countered.

“The audacity,” Albedo murmured as Venti huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.

“Guess we need a new project,” Venti grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Kazuha, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”

“You’re gonna what?!” Kazuha exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates

You laughed as you watched Kazuha practically run away from Venti, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.

Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[susansontag]

my guide to lesbian anime both canonic and subtextual

(won’t include every lesbian anime ever, this is a personal list)

the canonic-gay section:

revolutionary girl utena

nothing before or since has ever done it like this. trigger warnings for everything imaginable. loads of homosexuals in this one. gender commentary, fairytale allusions, a lot of kids who are having a hard time growing up and moving beyond their pasts. sword lesbians.

flip flappers

the problematic favourite, in that there’s at least one uncomfortable sexualised shot each episode (roughly speaking; some have none and one has even more, unfortunately), so be warned. but at its heart flipflap is about repressed cocona going on adventures with outgoing and expressive papika, and their exploration of various fantastical lands/inner worlds of people they meet. hugely inventive and pretty, and a core thread is cocona discovering she’s gay.

aoi hana (‘sweet blue flowers’)

the comfort lesbian show, with not a romantic relationship at its heart, but a friendship between two childhood friends who meet again, both of whom are gay (though only one realises this during the show’s run, as it’s based on a manga). one of them dates an upperclassman at her school, and there’s various gay and bi side characters. it’s just very wholesome, lovingly animated, sweet and sometimes painful stuff.

bloom into you

I controversially do not care that much for bloom into you, but as the best, high-production, non-skeevy yuri show in years - that is based on a manga by a woman - it’s worth mentioning. late-bloomer girl dreams of romance, though has never felt it, and finds affinity with a girl who similarly is disinclined to date. that is, until said girl says she fancies her. genuinely moving exploration of developing gay identity at times, only downside is my personal disinterest in the black haired girl. some weird ‘heightened’ moments that feel inauthentic and titillating do arise, but it’s very few - to the point where some would disagree with me on my reading of it, I’d imagine.

sailor moon

the bits which the lesbians are in, etc. it’s a classic. I haven’t watched all of it myself because I don’t care much nor do I have nostalgia for sailor moon, but it’s one of the most notable examples of a butch/masc lesbian in anime, so that’s nice.

o maidens in your savage season

nerdy teenage girls who are part of a literature club make it their quest to discover sex and dating, in various ways (unfortunately, not all of them dealt with well… teacher/student foolery that is fortunately abandoned before it gets worse but is nonetheless handled with mixed results, imo). mostly though it’s hilarious, sweet, silly, and there’s a gay girl in it, but I won’t spoil which one. adults predating on children is also handled much, much better in another of the show’s storylines, and I do appreciate it for trying to tackle that difficult subject matter.

oniisama e (‘dear brother’)

an oldie, based off a shoujo manga by one of the greatest (riyoko ikeda). there’s a central relationship to root for (better articulated in the manga), but it’s mostly just what if we were messy depressed lesbians at an all-girls school and we were also melodramatic and mean as hell.

revue starlight

what if we were at an all-girls dramatic arts school and engaged in utena-like duels to become the top performer? main implicitly gay couple with canonic side gay couples. it’s quite cute. also worth watching if you like takarazuka in any way (prestigious all-female japanese theatre troupe), because the main conceit of the school is very much based on that idea.

the gay-themes section:

sound! euphonium (season one)

in which director naoko yamada’s awesome legacy of writing lesbians and then saying “who’s to say though, ha ha” continued (she did it already with a side character in tamako market). this one is known as the gaybait to end all gaybait, but hear me out: the first, and best, season, is not only a fantastic self-contained story with many great characters and plot points, but it’s main character is undoubtedly lesbian-coded and even has a love interest you can argue about. frankly I think she’s gay-coded throughout the whole show (even when she dates a guy for two minutes), but this feels very “I wanted to focus on this compelling relationship between two female characters but the adaptation’s success meant we had to revert back to the source material in later seasons”. what we got from this is perhaps my favourite lesbian anime of all-time, following utena.

a place further than the universe

this show is about four girls who join an expedition to antarctica, and what if I told you they’re all great, believable dorky teenage characters, and they exist in a well-written and thematically satisfying show… and there’s nice lesbian implication between one of our adult female protagonists and her old (deceased; not a spoiler) friend who was the main teen girl’s mother. there’s some sad here, obviously.

puella magi madoka magica

the well-known, much beloved deconstruction of the magical girl genre is also pretty gay, as it happens (so gay in fact it started a trend of gay-coded pink+black magical girls). it’s not a particular favourite of mine, but it’s visually one of the most notable anime productions ever, so it’s well worth seeing just for that.

NANA

the 2000s manga+show about the two twenty-year-olds who meet on a train and discover they’re both called nana is also pretty gay! to the point where there are heated fandom debates about nana komatsu’s (pink one) possibly being a lesbian. they both have many relationships with guys, but it’s their bond that forms the heart of the show, and the bisexuality (or, who knows, homosexuality) of the leads is pretty undeniable. to the point where you’ll get blasted on the nana subreddit if you try and suggest otherwise.

the wild-card section:

keep your hands off eizouken!

this is a show about three oddball girls who start a club to create anime, but have to pose as the film club instead for various reasons. it’s not even subtextually gay, I just personally think that all three of the leads are gay and the whole thing feels like a very female-centred creative endeavour. hugely fun watch, and very high production values. you wouldn’t regret seeing it.

skip & loafer

these two you see here are side characters. this show is actually about mitsumi, the greatest female protagonist of this kind of shoujo-esque slice of life show, who moves from the countryside to tokyo for high school. here she meets many a misfit, including the pretty blonde and the nerd girl who have undeniable chemistry and form one of the most popular pairings in the show. it’s just a good time.

chihayafuru

I’d get in trouble for this, because the primary romance factor in the show is a famed heterosexual love triangle with chihaya at its centre and her two male childhood friends at the side. but go with me on this. chihaya is oblivious to romance and feminine socialisation, she is obsessed with a card game and with her equally dorky dark-haired rival… she’s anime’s greatest autistic lesbian lead. and you get more than what you pay for, because the two boys I mentioned? a lot of gay stuff going on there too.

the big-screen-cinematic section:

the adolescence of utena

revolutionary girl returns in the sequel of a lifetime, slightly older (sixteen, say) and gayer than ever, to escape this place with the love of her life. cue the impromptu dance sequence (with stars and rose petals)!

liz and the blue bird

the naoko yamada directed gay cinematic universe continues with a gorgeous film starring two of the side characters from sound! euphonium’s second season (not necessary to watch beforehand). that means it has plausible deniability whilst being so crazily gay it’s almost some kind of joke. this is a highly detailed, laser-focused character study of two girls in their high school band club and their ever more strained relationship. yamada never misses.

the summer

this is korean! it’s about two girls who meet at school and start dating in secret, what happens as they grow up and move to seoul, and how their relationship changes and strains when met with the conservatism of contemporary korean society. it was sweet and like aoi hana above for japanese girls, felt pretty frank to the experiences I’d imagine young korean lesbians might have.

puella magi madoka magica: rebellion

if you’re a fan of the show, you probably don’t talk about this movie. sure, it’s a visual feat, sure, it’s insanely entertaining, but it’s also frustrating and upsetting and potentially undermines the neatness of the original as a perfectly-crafted story. BUT. kyouko/sayaka becomes all but canon in it, and everything else aside, that’s all that really matters. but you should definitely watch the show beforehand.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: None Prompt: Time to wrap it all up, and perhaps receive one or two surprises. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 42: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Wednesday, December 23rd

The art store was small, but filled with colours all around. Small little black cabinets with golden numbers on top behind the counter, and walls lined with different paint pots and colours, a wall with wooden frames and delicately separated boxes that held paint brushes of all different sizes and shapes and, by the bits you’d read, also materials. 

At the top of the cabinets there was a small display of colourful markers and pens and other things that you knew muggles used but you weren’t too familiar with. Apparently, they used stick glue instead of sticking spells to adhere stuff. You wondered how much of this stuff Sirius actually knew about and vowed to bring him to this place with you one day. 

And while you did appreciate art, thoroughly – you’d gone to multiple museums, both muggle and wizarding through your trips – you had no idea what the difference was between gouache and acrylic, or why the “Rembrandt” that claimed to be made out of oil, where much more expensive than the “Winsor & Newton” ones that claimed the same. It had to be because of the quality, right? 

“Good evening, may I help you?” a young man, probably in his late twenties asked as he approached you. He was dressed in rather formal clothes and had a pair of thin-rimmed golden glasses. You would have probably considered him attractive if you hadn’t been accustomed to Sirius’ dashing looks or Remus’ lovely smile. You really were lucky to be surrounded by handsome and pretty humans, you thought, thinking of the rest of your friends. 

You must have looked as lost as a Bowtruckle in the middle of New York since he looked like he would try to be overly polite. 

“I’m looking for a gift, my boyfriend loves to draw, but I’m… not really good with all the supplies and stuff, I was thinking perhaps a nice set of pencils and a sketchbook. I’ve been looking through the paints as well, but I don’t think he’s the kind to do the whole canvas thing, at least not while we’re in school.” 

“Well, does he colour his drawings?” 

You thought about it for a moment, what he’d shown you were mostly sketches done in pencil, though there were some with an underlayer of red and or blue. “I think he uses some for the base of the drawings.” 

“Does he overline them?” The expression you gave him when he asked made him clarify it. “After the pencil sketch is done, does he add a pen or marker to finish up the details?” 

Sirius did not do that, but you also thought how complicated it would be to do such a thing with a quill instead of the pens and trinkets the muggles had invented so you nodded in response. “Yeah… not that often but I’m sure he’d like something to be able to do it.” 

“All right, follow me,” he said as he motioned to one of the furthest walls. “This is where we keep all of our sketchbooks, the thicker the grammage the stronger pens and markers it will hold. Also, some can even hold watercolour, not sure if he’s into that too.” 

“Do you have like – a book on the basics of watercoloring? I feel like he might actually be interested in that.” 

“We do,” he said with a nod and moved to the other side of the store bringing you a few options. You picked one of them and then looked through the sketchbooks. There were different sizes and colours and the pages felt really different on most of them. Some were especially made for watercolours and some were for drawing. You took one with about 100 pages for watercolour and one with the same amount of pages but with a bit less grammage for sketches. 

They both had a black cover with golden elegant trims that you thought would definitely go with Sirius’ look, although one opened from the side, making it more of a panoramic view while the other one stayed horizontal. You handed them in to the guy and he took them to the counter as you continued looking around. You leaned into the watercolour section and started to look at all the different options available. 

“If this is the first time he’ll do watercolour, may I recommend you buy a set?” he asked politely as he showed you a small wooden case, when he opened it there were all sorts of small blocks with different colours on them. “These are my favourite brand, but really gentle with beginners, they also come with this interesting thing,” he added as he handed you a small brush with a clear section at the top. “It comes with water, you don’t have to dip your brush that often, really useful once you get the hang of it.” 

“You have more of those?” you asked and he nodded, showing you the different sizes of brush ends. After a while, and with a lot of his help, you ended up selecting about 5 different brushes and the colours that you’d fill the small wooden box with as well, which you thought was fantastic since you could fill it up with whatever colours you chose and not a set palette. 

“You’ll also take the marker set, the watercolour book and the sketchbooks, correct? Anything else?” 

“Uhh… Am I missing anything that he might need?

“Does he draw portraits or landscapes?” 

You thought back of the Remus drawing he’d shown you, and then of the one you had chosen not to see. “He draws portraits and anatomy studies. Though I’m sure I’ve seen him doodle other stuff too.” 

“He might like this book then,” he told you as he handed over another book. It was about proportions and hand drawing and a lot of very advanced-looking stuff, you smiled. 

“This one as well, please…” he was about to finish the bill when you stopped him, looking down through the glass display and pointing towards something, “Is that a penknife?” 

“Well, yes,” he replied, “Although sharpeners are used more often nowadays, some people still prefer them.” 

“I’d like one of those as well,” you added with a smile. 

“Excellent.” The man gave you your total and then handed every single thing in a thick paper bag. “You said it was for a gift, right?” 

“Yes,” you nodded and he walked to the back of the shop, pulling a very elegant and sturdy black box, he eyed the bag as if calculating if everything would fit and then handed it over to you along with a black and gold ribbon with the name of the store repeated over and over. 

As he handed it over he pulled it back for a second and gave you a smile. “That young gentleman is very lucky to have you as a girlfriend.” 

“I think I’m just as lucky as he is,” you responded with a small smirk as you took the box. 

“Would you like me to call you a cab?” 

You thought about it for a second. Your house wasn’t that far, and with a short levitating spell you wouldn’t have to carry much stuff either, but the Knight Bus did mention they’d be very busy and you had been walking all day. “Yes, thank you.”

The man called for one and you waited inside the store until the cabbie arrived. You gave him your address and he took you straight there. You took the lift of your building, using your wand to unlock the secret –magical- floor your parents had purchased in London and waited. 

When the two, golden doors of the lift opened to your drawing room, you sighed. Leaning down to take off your shoes. “Mom? Dad?” 

No answer. “What time is it?” you whispered to yourself as you looked at the clock, quarter past ten? That art store surely has late closing times, you thought as you leaned back down to pull your bags up and drag them to your room. 

There was a note on the table along with what looked like a delightfully looking salad and steak. 

We’ll be home late, serve yourself. See you tomorrow darling.

You sighed and after placing the bags on the table, and using a warming spell on the food, you ate. Once you were done, the plate disappeared from the table and instead, a chocolate cake showed up. You smiled, at least they knew you liked sweets. You took a few bites from that and took it, along with your gifts, to your room. 

That’s when you remembered you had promised to tell your friends when you arrived here so you quickly scribbled a few notes. Sending your owl –Resse– back to the Potter’s and Barnaby –the family’s owl– to Beth. Then you took some Floo powder and leaned over the fire. 

“Tom?” You asked as you peeked through his chimney. 

“Sly sprite?” He asked as he leaned over. “I was starting to worry,” he said as he left a book on the side. “You got home, all right?” 

“Yeah!” you said with a smile. “And I got a bunch of good stuff at the store too, it was worth it.” 

“It better have been! Beth is home too, we stopped by hers first.” 

You chatted with Tom for a little while more and ended the call when you started to yawn and he followed right after. With that, you went for a quick and warm shower and then back to bed. 

Thursday, December 24th

There was a soft knock on the door, you stirred on your bed but didn’t wake and then there was another one. “Sweetheart? Breakfast’s ready, come eat.” 

“On my way,” you said as you sat on your bed and rubbed your eyes a couple of times. The day was bright, you’d forgotten to shut your windows at night and now you had the perfect view of the Thames through your window. You thought back to Hogwarts and how all the splendour of it had been made by magic, while the splendour of London had mostly been made by muggles. 

The high skyscrapers, the Ferris Wheel across the river, the towers, palaces and bridges, all muggle-made, and without magic, it was fascinating. You didn’t understand why wizards had so many prejudices against them –aside from the whole burning on steak part, muggles seemed to be quite incredible and determined people.  Perhaps you should have taken that muggle studies optative. 

“Sweetheart?” you heard your father’s voice, a bit more stern than your mother’s. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you said as you shook your covers off and grabbed your wand from the nightstand. “As if they hadn’t been home hours after I got here,” you mumbled as you fished for a pair of slippers under your bed. 

By the time you got out of your room both your mom and dad were sitting on the living room table. Your mom was wearing a beautiful cocktail dress while your dad had a perfectly fitting black suit on with a small cape, draped elegantly behind his chair. You were still wearing a band shirt you had stolen from Sirius a while ago, and that you had been wearing under Remus’ jumper before the trip. “Lovely to see you,” you said with an awkward smile, “it’s been a while.” 

Your father looked up from his newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand only for a second, nodded and then went back to read. Your mom gave you a sympathetic look and nodded for you to sit down. After a couple of minutes, your dad bent the newspaper and placed it on the side of the table.  

“We’ve heard plenty of your Hogwarts Adventures,” your father said looking at you. “You’ve been doing a masterful job at maintaining our house’s name relevant.”  

You frowned at that, that had never been your intention. 

“You were incredible in the broom race though you lost,” your father said. “And you’ve won two quidditch matches–” 

“That was a team effort…” you said, your voice growing smaller as his hand dismissed you. 

“You’ve kept your grades high and you’ve even entered the duelling club…”

“Not to mention her Theoretical Magic grades,” your mom added with a smile. 

“And you’re dating one of the Black kids.” 

You swallowed. You had mentioned in your letters that you and Sirius had gotten along now that you were in the same house, but you hadn’t specifically mentioned you were dating him.

“The disowned Black kid,” your father continued. 

You straightened a little, you had discussed with your dad the things that happened back in your vacations with the Blacks. It hadn’t been particularly nice talk, but you weren’t going to back down, his political means could not be worth more than his morals. And things had been rather tense between the two since then.

When two people had such intense ideological differences and desires, they were bound to clash against each other, especially when those ideologies juxtaposed against the other often, being only furthered by the fact that you were –at least on breaks– living under the same roof. 

Your priorities had been wildly different and you weren’t shy about letting him know, which caused your relationship to deteriorate quickly. Not to say you –or him– had been particularly rude to each other, but you were much colder. It was almost Christmas, and you didn’t want to start a fight with him, let alone over something that you were most definitely not going to yield on. 

“I think it’s all right. He might have been disowned by his family but he still stays in contact with some of the other Blacks like Alphard and the other disowned child… whatever her name is…” Andromeda, you thought as you tried to process the fact that he had just said it was fine. “Just try to avoid mentioning him in tomorrow’s dinner. I’m sure Walburga wouldn’t be particularly pleased.” 

“Tomorrow’s dinn– Walburga will be coming?” 

“Of course not, they have invited us to their Christmas dinner,” he said. “It’ll be hosted in Rosier Manor, I believe.” 

“Whose manor?” You asked, your breath going short along with your question. 

“Mr. Rosier,” your mom repeated. “All important wizards will be there.” 

“I’d rather skip Christmas altogether.” 

“I’m sorry, darling. This isn’t a matter of preferences. You will go and then we’ll let you do whatever you please for the rest of the break. Visit muggle London as much as you want or dally with your friends, I really don’t care as long as you maintain your composure during tomorrow’s dinner.”

Your leg was bouncing slightly under the table. “I don’t believe I will be welcomed in that house.” 

“You will be welcomed because you are my daughter and I’m me,” he said with an air of finality. “We need to present a strong family front, play your part and you’ll be rewarded.” 

“Right, my part,” you said bitterly. You wondered if your mother was playing her part too, they were in love, that wasn’t questionable, but sometimes it felt like she became nothing more than an addition to his recollection of what a perfect life should look like. Did he marry her because of the love he felt for her or because she’d look like a delightful trophy wife by his side on political dinners? Had she not been as beautiful as she was, had she not been well educated, would he have married her either way? 

You wondered, when had Silas become the man he is now? When did his greed for power become so intense he would sacrifice his morals to achieve it? When you were smaller, you thought they loved each other, even now, you saw when they looked at each other with those adoring eyes, but… there was a tale of sacrifice weaved in between their story, and with one party constantly bending to the other’s wishes, you weren’t sure you could still call it love. 

When devotion became toxic, was it still something that came from love, or had it become something else altogether? 

“Indeed darling, we ask for nothing more than one night. Then you will not be bothered, free to go wherever you want and with whomever you please. Does that sound like a fair deal?” 

You sighed and nodded, “One dinner.”

Your mother smiled at that, letting out a nervous breath and then reached for your hand. “Your clothes for tomorrow are already in your closet, I also got you some nice potions and make-up.” 

“Thanks, Mum,” you said with a short smile and looked at your food. It looked delicious, it was French toast with berries and fruit on top –probably there to appeal to your sweet tooth and convince you to go– but you didn’t feel hungry at all. Especially not at the thought of having to go to Rosier Manor. As if you didn’t see enough of Evan at school, now you had to go see him on the break as well, bIoody brilliant. “Breakfast was great,” you said as you stood up. Both of them decided to ignore your almost intact plate, “I’ll be in my room in case you need anything else, you know like me playing the role of the perfect child of the politician if your friends come around or whatever.”

Your mom gave you a reproachful look while your dad gave you an impassive one, you raised your eyebrows at the two of them, almost tauntingly before you turned around, walking back to your room and letting the door close behind you gently –it was not the inanimate objects fault that your parents were acting like pricks. 

You sat on your bed and took a deep breath before you saw a small owl by one of your windows, you let him in and took the rolled parchment from his feet before feeding him some water. 

Dear Vix, Hope this letter finds you all right, Sirius was moaning about you going along Beth and Tom and not inviting him to buy Christmas stuff it was draining! Now I was not going to write to you about it because he said he would punch me in the face but I had to write anyway since mum and dad wanted you to have our address so you could come here through floo anytime.  Hope you’re having a great time, Sirius and I went flying with Pete today (he lives a few houses from us, did we tell you?), and while it was nice not having to worry about Sirius distracting himself from snogging you, we missed you still.  Mum and Dad send greetings to your parents, hope you’re also having a blast.  Your bestest friend, James P.  PS. Mum sent this tea for you, she said she thinks you’d like it with how much sweet stuff you eat and stuff.  PS 2. Love you, but I bet you’re missing me more <– That was Sirius. 

James’ stupid letter made you chuckle, especially the last bit, as if it had been necessary to point out that Sirius had been the one to write it. You placed the letter into a small box in your bag and smiled as you walked to pick up some of the stuff you’d be giving your friends as their gifts.  

You picked up some wrapping paper and started wrapping all of their gifts, the owls would have to do a couple of trips to take them all to their place, but you’d make sure to leave them plenty of food throughout the night, so they could continue their trips and the presents would be at your friend’s beds in the morning. 

You had gone through most of the smaller gifts first, writing small, and neatly written Christmas cards on them. Then you went for the bigger ones, the books you’d gotten for Lily, some of the stuff for Mary and Marlene, James’ pack, and of course, Remus and Sirius’. 

It wasn’t until then, that you realised how overboard you had gone with your gifts. You’d gotten Remus so many books, both magical and muggle, that you almost felt guilty you hadn’t gotten Lily and James more stuff. And then you tried telling yourself it was because Remus would spend Christmas alone and he deserved at least a bit of happiness, you weren’t deliberately playing favourites. 

And then Sirius’ pile was clearly a mess, you had all the music you’d gotten, the shirts, the penknife that you wanted to engrave with his name (you were researching for the right spell to do it) and a bunch of other stuff for him. Besides, you still wanted to make the playlists, so before you finished packing the bigger boxes, you started testing the recorder. Now there wasn’t exactly a step by step guide on how to record music, but there was a small booklet that showed you how the thing worked and you spend the rest of the day figuring it out, listening to music and making a playlist for each of your friends. Using all the songs you thought they might like.

When you were done with that, you continued packing all the stuff. Deciding to send all the music back to the boys’ room at Hogwarts so they could leave it on Sirius’ stash. Well, all of them except for the David Bowie tape you had specifically gotten for Sirius and that would look great with his shirt and the rest of the gifts you’d gotten him. 

You went out to get some food at some point during the day, and there was another note from your parents telling you they were off at an event. Well, good riddance, you thought as you went back to your room with a sandwich in your hands. You picked one of the books you’d gotten for yourself and you spent almost the rest of the day reading it while jamming to one of the playlists you’d made. A copy of the one you’d made for Remus since you thought it went well with the book you’d chosen to read. 

You fell asleep before your parents got home, with the book still in your hands and the music playing softly in the background until the cassette ran out of tape and was softly ejected by the machine. The sound it made had been so soft it didn’t wake you at all. 

Thankfully, you had remembered to leave enough water and food for the owls, since they had spent all night doing trips back and forth to your house and your friends’. 

Friday, December 25th

You woke up by being pecked in the face by a very big and very angry owl. 

“Oi!” you complained. “What’s wrong with you?” The owl chirped and picked you again, this time on the ear. “Bitch,” you mumbled as you pushed him back lightly, only for him to pick you in the finger again. 

You gave him an upset look and he pulled back just a little, tilting his head towards the window, and the lack of food and refreshments. 

“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been attacking me non-stop?” you asked as you stood up from the bed, failing to see the pile of wrapped gifts at the end of it. The owl chirped in response, a scowl that you weren’t sure was his natural face shape or an actual scowl directed towards you. “I’m sorry,” you added, “Barnaby and Reese must have eaten them all. They did many trips last night, you know?” 

The owl chirped again, a little angry as he flew towards the window, as if saying «I too flew many trips last night» looking as indignant as a Towny Owl could. You added a few of the special snacks you kept for Reese just to keep him from biting you again. You looked at the name tag and realised who the owner of the owl had been. 

Eun-ji, Minho had told you about her, she was his family’s owl and apparently, the name meant something like “kind”. So much for a kind owl, you thought as you looked at her, gobbling up Reese’s treats. You leaned over when you noticed there was a small letter attached to his feet and took it in your hands before the owl flapped his wings and left. 

Merry Christmas Star Seeker,  Hope you’re having a great time. Thought of giving you a special thanks for that one time you –quite literally– pushed me towards my crush and got us to start a conversation, that, well, you know how great it ended!  Even for a Gryffindor, you’re really nice, so I thought of getting you something for you to get some more hate from your fellow Gryffindor, Eun-ji must have left the gift near your bed.

You turned to the side in the middle of reading and stood agape, there was not only a green and silver wrapped gift in what looked suspiciously like the shape of a snake, but there were also a bunch of other gifts wrapped in all sorts of colours. 

Anyway thanks for everything, hope you have fun and all. I’m looking forward to beating you all next time we play,   Love,  The one and only, and your favourite Slytherin, Minho Cha. 

You rolled your eyes at the last bit, it had been very Slytherin of him, but since you knew Minho, you also knew he was playing it off as a joke on his own house, which made a joke inside a joke and you thought it was actually kind of funny. 

You took a deep breath and walked over to your bed. There were all sorts of gifts prompted there and you decided to unwrap Minho’s first. There was a small, green snake plushie with a bow on it that had a small pendant with something written on it:  “From the snakes that love you dearly,” and then it had the names of all of your Slytherin friends: Minho, Comet, Nox, Reggie, and even some you weren’t expecting like Dorcas and Solacis. You thought it was an adorable little thing, even if –and you were certain of this– your friends would absolutely hate it. Well, not Lily, she’d also think it was adorable. 

And thinking of her, was that you picked the next gift, wrapped in pink and yellow paper, and with her a small dedicatory on the corner, you instantly knew it was from her, her neat and perfect handwriting being the dеad giveaway. You smile as you read her small dedication. She wished you a very, merry Christmas and promised to tell you everything about the train with James as soon as you saw each other in person. She wrote something along the lines of not being able to put it on paper, which made you laugh. 

When you opened the present you were thrilled, it was a small leather notebook, dark red with golden trims and your name on the cover. Not Vixen, not Starshine, or any of the other nicknames that you had come to own and love since you arrived at Hogwarts, but your name. You smiled as you traced your fingers over the letters. There was a pen on the side, golden and apparently of some interesting muggle technology that wasn’t that popular in the wizarding world. You thought it was fascinating. When you opened the notebook you realised there was something written, again in her handwriting. 

You’ve had more adventures this year than I’ve had in my lifetime. I think it’s time for you to start writing down some of them, in case you ever want to revisit them. If journaling is not your thing (which I feel like it would be because I know you), you can just use this notebook however you want. You know grocery lists, songs for mixtapes, your favourite lyrics, poems, quotes, Sirius’ doodles, your doodles,  dried flowers, stickers, whatever you want, it’s your space, and you may use it as you wish! Love, Lily

You thought the idea of having your own journal was brilliant, you always admired her for keeping hers so incredibly neat looking, and perhaps being able to let some of your feelings go on a blank page would be better than keeping them bottled up. You doubted you would be nearly as consistent as her, but you decided to add your first couple of words in there, detailing the gifts you’d gotten and the few you still had yet to open. 

You’d gotten a box of your favourite candies from Mary and some incredible quidditch trading cards from Marlene, but she had also added some makeup to her gift because if not you and James would have gotten the exact same thing and you were her favourite between the two. You got a spellbook and a muggle prank book from Tom “to further your career” according to him. There was a large, embossed book from Nina, which you discovered was an annotated version of one of your favourite books and a small set of runes from Sybil. You had gotten her a deck of cards and a book about premonitions. 

There were candies from Nox and a muggle book lantern from Neil Perry, you had both complained at some point about reading with your wand and you thought the solution he’d found was adorable. Peter had gotten you a book about canines, packed along with a small fox-themed bookmarker and a note that said “Thank you for not busting my make-out session and Merry Christmas.” He also added, “PS. maybe with this one you’ll be able to tame Pads.” Which had you wheezing with laughter for a while. 

It took at least a minute to go for the next gift, it was a small box that said to be handled carefully. You opened it according to the instructions. “Shut the fuck up!” you said the moment you realized what was inside. A small Felix Felicis vial. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you repeated over and over again. “How did he even get his hands on it?” 

You picked up the paper from behind it, there was a small note. 

Okay say it: aside from Sirius, I AM your favourite Marauder.  You might be wondering, “How the hell did James get his hands on this?”. Well dear, I must say, I have contacts.  AKA my parents are expert potioneers and I somehow convinced Mum to brew one and that’s how I got my hands on it.  Now, I could have given it to any of my friends but I get the feeling you might be needing some of this soon enough. You know, from things I’ve seen and such (please don’t waste it on a quidditch match, though). Anyway, I know you’ll use it well, hope you have a very Merry Christmas!  Your favourite marauder AND bestest friend,  Prongs. 

You chuckled when you finished reading and went back to look at the vial with incredulity. Brewing one of these potions was arduous work, and it took weeks, which meant James must have had convinced Effie to do it even before she’d met you. Never underestimate James Potter, you thought as you grabbed onto the vial and placed it around your neck with a chain, casting a disillusionment charm on it so it wouldn’t be so obvious you had it with you. You thought the gift was brilliant. 

After that, there were only 2 gifts left. You picked the one with a silver bow first. It was a square box, about 12” wide, and had been wrapped in the same paper as James’, which made you guess who it might be from. There were chocolates and a small letter on top, neatly closed and with your name written on the back with Sirius’ almost perfect calligraphy. There was also a paper covering something, but you picked the letter up first. 

You know, I tried writing a love letter, but James wouldn’t stop making ridiculous comments about it not being profound enough and I feared I’d end up writing something close to the painfully ridiculous letters he used to write to Lily so I had to stop myself.  Who would have thought it would be that hard to put thoughts into words? I suppose if I were like Remus it would come out much easier but, unfortunately, you’re stuck with me. Actually no, fortunately you’re stuck with me, I’m delightful.

You laughed, he’s not wrong. 

Anyway, I suppose what I wanted to express in those dreadful attempts of being a poet was that I’m incredibly thankful that you came to Hogwarts and that you came back to me. I’m grateful that you tolerate me and my moods and that you love me for who I am, flaws and all. I wasn’t sure I’d ever found that kind of love, one that I even doubted it existed, and yet you’re always there to tease and make me laugh and– I already sound like James, but you know what I mean. You always know what I mean.  As you see, I am far from a poet, but there is something I like to do and I thought that perhaps, you’d enjoy it more than this terrible love letter.  You know, you and Remus were the first to ever see a sketch from my book, and I was feeling all sorts of things after I offered, and yet, you were there, reassuring me and telling me I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to. You know Walburga, it wasn’t much of a choice for me, so it truly meant the world, and fed me the courage I needed to let you see that part of me. And when you two finally saw it and praised me for my skills, for what I did with my own hands… You make me so incredibly gleeful, it’s almost scary how much power you could hold over me. But frankly, I’ll let you hold it all you want.  All right, enough of the sappy stuff, Merry Christmas Starshine, you know you shine brighter than my own star. Hope you like your gift.  Love,  Sirius 

See the letter here

You read the letter a few more times, smiling at the little details and jokes Sirius had sprinkled all over. And then you pulled on the bit of tissue paper covering the very last thing in the box and when you finally saw its content you couldn’t help but swear again, “Son of a bitch!” you whispered. 

There were still some small pieces of paper over the small portrait, and you carefully brushed them out to be able to lift it from the box. The image was a hand-drawn portrait of you. You had a big smile and were looking at what would be the camera if it were an image. It looked like it might have been from one of the pictures from Marlene’s party although Sirius had changed the outfit, you were wearing an oversized sweater and his leather jacket. You could tell it was his because it had one of the enamel pins you had gotten him as a gift on the lapel. 

There were touches of colours in the strokes, not quite painting the drawing but rather giving it relatively bright edges that made it look special, unlike any other doodle. And of course, he had framed it, it was a simple yet elegant frame, dark oak and with small carved details on the sides. On the left bottom corner of the drawing, there was something written in French: 

À l'étoile la plus brillante.  Amour, 

And then, instead of his name, he signed with a small and elegant star doodle. You smiled again, it was one of the loveliest things you’d ever gotten, even if it was a portrait of yourself, the fact that Sirius had been the one to draw it, made it the most special of things. There were portraits upon portraits of you in your house, with magic that allowed you to move and smile, and even talk sometimes, but none of them held as much value as the frozen drawing Sirius had given you. 

Eventually, you placed it on your night table and picked up the last gift still sitting in your bed. His box was smaller than Sirius’, about the size of a book, which had you assumed he had gotten you something along the lines of that. 

You opened the book and found a small, pocket-sized book. It was a Sreath Bàrdachd, according to the golden script at the top. You hadn’t quite realised as you pulled it from the box, but it was handmade. You looked at it in shock as you flipped to the 50+ pages, all in carefully and methodically written cursive, his handwriting. 

Later you realised it was something between a book of poems and a compilation of quotes from different books. You admired the booklet for a few more minutes when you spotted that there was a small letter, still waiting for you inside the box. You pulled it off and broke the seal with a small sword letter opener Nox had given you as a gift. 

As you did, a small chain fell from the letter and you picked it up. It was small and dainty, just long enough to wrap around your wrist, which made you wonder how he’d guessed the size. The chain was simple, and it broke off into two different sections, one with a small crescent moon and then another one with a small star. It also had one small gemstone in between the bigger charms. You looked at it with a smile and held it in your hand as you read the letter. 

Hey there, Little Witch,  Hope you’re having an incredible Christmas. By the time you read this, you’ve probably seen the Sreath Bàrdachd, and knowing how clever you are, you probably already know what that could mean. Yes, It’s a book of poems, but also a bit more than that.  I knew Sirius was making you that incredible gift of his, and I didn’t want to fall behind. Prongs didn’t tell us what he got you but he seemed pretty confident he’d have the best gift of all. Did he?  Never mind, don’t tell me, it’s a silly competition. Either way, I thought you might like having one of these. Mum used to have one, which is why I know they exist. She told me a good friend gave it to her and she has kept it ever since then. I remembered borrowing it from her once when I was little, and she taught me how to carefully flip through the pages as she read to me. She also mentioned it was a silly girl’s thing but I thought it was amazing, and went on to make my own.  Although wonky and, with quotes from children’s books, she thought I was quite a mastermind for making it by myself. Of course, I put a lot more effort into the one you have with you now. Or perhaps the same effort but with better skills. If you’ve flipped through the pages, which I assume you have, since you’re incredibly curious, you’ve probably seen some familiar quotes.  There’s stuff from books we’ve both read and stuff that only I have read but that I thought you might like. Some of my favourite poems too, and some quotes from movies that only you’d be able to get. There are even lyrics from songs, some that we really like, some that Sirius has heard so many times that I already knew them by memory, and since the two of you like similar music, I assumed you’d know them too.  Also, there’s a small bracelet in the letter. I’ve cross-charmed it, in case you ever lose the Sreath Bàrdachd (I truly hope you never do), the gemstone will shine as you approach it. I’ve also added a few luck charms that, while they won’t keep you away from trouble –I don’t think anything could– they may give you some luck while navigating it.  Don’t hit me for saying that, you know it’s true.  Love,  Moony.  PS. Prongs told me about your little quarrel with Sirius on the platform, Sirius definitely misses you more.

See the letter here

By the time you finished Remus’ letter, you were smiling as brightly as you had when you read Sirius’. You were so lucky you had found such incredible people in Hogwarts. Your bedsheets filled with torn wrapping paper were a testament to that. You spend the rest of the afternoon listening to some more music and reading through the book Remus had made. 

He had been especially careful with his handwriting which you thought was adorable, and there were a lot of quotes from Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Grey. He had written in pencil –so you could erase it if you wanted, not that you would– that it was your fault he was obsessed with his writing now. Taking poems and quotations from both, the book aforementioned and The Ghost of Canterville. You hadn’t read the latter yet, but you were almost counting the days to go back to school and ask him to lend you his copy. 

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and you had to leave the warm comfort of reading and listening to music in favour of changing into the clothes your mom had chosen for you. You sighed as the alarm clock you’d set earlier went off, and then went straight towards your closet. The dress she had picked was simple, yet elegant. It wasn’t a long dress like the one she’d probably wear, but a more youthful one with clever intricate details on the sleeves and a midi skirt.  

“Thank god it has sleeves,” you whispered to yourself as you pulled the edge of the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt up. While your skin looked almost smooth, the lighter (almost silvery) shapes where the new skin was growing over the gush Moony had made were pretty evident. You supposed makeup and a spell could make them less visible, at least for a while, but that would have probably taken you a lot more time to achieve. 

You plopped the black dress on, smoothing the sides as walking towards your vanity where your mum had left all the potions and make-up. You sighed, remembering how much more fun it had been to dress for the Gryffindor parties than it was to dress for this one. With the black dress and the pearls on your neck, you felt a lot more like you were about to walk into a funeral rather than a party. My own funeral, you thought with a laugh when you remembered whose house you’d actually be going to. 

You grabbed a pair of red, not-too-high heels, put them on, and took another look in the large mirror by the window. You looked lovely, at least there would be no complaints from your parents on that aspect. What they might complain about was the fact that you took a bag with an undetectable extension charm and filled it with a few of the books you’d gotten as a Christmas gift. You also took the journal Lily had given you and Remus’ Sreath Bàrdachd. And you weren’t sure who’d be attending that party but you sure hoped you’d be able to sneak into a corner and read a book rather than having to interact with some of the most disagreeable friends of your parents. 

“Sweetheart, are you ready?” your mom asked from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, coming,” you said as you grabbed a few more trinkets and dumped them in your bag, just in case. 

You were about to leave the room when you saw a small glistening thing in your bed and you went straight to grab it. It was the bracelet Remus had given you, and even if it took you a while to put it on, and you continued looking between your wrist and the door as you tried to get the clasp to do its job, you thought it was worth it. I could really use that extra luck. You thought. You accommodated the necklace Sirius had given you and that you never took off and then took off James’ potion and placed it on your bag since it might be safer there than around your neck. 

One last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order and you walked out towards the living room. 

“You look delightful, darling,” your father said as he spotted you walking out of the room. 

You gave him a half shrug in response and then managed to mutter a “thanks” that you hoped didn’t sound as bitter as it felt. After another moment of silence, your mom grabbed her bag and finished clipping on one of her earrings. 

“We’ll take the floo?” you asked. 

Your father shook his head, “They’ve sent over a Portkey,” your mom explained and motioned to the table, there was a small, fancy-looking invitation right in the middle. 

“Nice,” you said as you used your wand to levitate the object and move it right in between your parents. Perhaps if it had been floo, you could have sneakily said James’ address instead of Evan’s and escaped the party altogether. Once there, your parents wouldn’t make a fuss about it in order to not make your insubordination evident. But of course, you weren’t that lucky, and you’d have to take the portkey and you’d have to go to the party. 

“In three,” your father said as he moved his hand towards the invitation, “two… one… go.” 

The three of you placed your hands on the invitation at the same time and you felt the very familiar pull on your lower back, in less than a second, the entire world distorted around you, and then, you weren’t in your house anymore.

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A/N: Aww that was so cute wasn't it? Now it's time to strap on, we're about to dive head-first into the darkest side of the story, and it's going to be fun and sad and just a rollercoaster of emotions in general. Love, Lils xx

Read more Marauders Fiction

[bowlofsoob]

mr. oblivious

The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Choi Soobin, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.

choi soobin x gender neutral reader

established relationship, married, teachers au

wc: 2.7k words

It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.

You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.

So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.

It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Haerin wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.

Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.

Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.

You brought it up to Soobin during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Soobin didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.

You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Soobin, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Beomgyu, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Soobin sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Soobin never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.

“So, what’s your secret?” Beomgyu sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so quiet Soobin to talk to you for longer than a minute?”

“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”

Beomgyu and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.

“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Beomgyu dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about SoobinYn?” Hueningkai grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.

“What the hell is SoobinYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Soobin? Was this their way of welcoming you?

“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.

And to your horror, a little splash of your coffee landed on the other.

A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Yeonjun spilled his drink on Soobin the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.

“Careful,” Soobin mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.

“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Soobin and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”

“It’s fine,” Soobin assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.

You made sure to pointedly ignore Beomgyu and Hueningkai’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.

You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Soobin’s name spoken for the nth time that day.

“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Soobin’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Hyein insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”

“Like-like?” Haerin drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“

“We should make them be a couple!” Sunoo giggled, clapping his hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Soobin is not good enough for them but it’s okay.”

So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Soobin were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Soobin really not mentioned being married even once?

Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Soobin really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.

“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”

“Or boyfriends,” Sunoo giggled behind his hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted him on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Soobin’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Beomgyu rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Yeonjun.

“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Yeonjun huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”

“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Taehyun, the school’s gym teacher, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Soobin out on Valentine’s!”

“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.

“Clumsy as always,” Soobin murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Beomgyu who was stifling a laugh.

“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Yeonjun defended, hands on his hips.

“Lunch,” Soobin dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”

The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”

Soobin hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.

The moment he left all hell broke loose.

“SEE! I knew Soobin would make a move!”

“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"

“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”

You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Soobin’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Soobin?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.

Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.

“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Soobin, leaning back into it as Soobin gestured to his half finished take out box.

“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Soobin work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.

“A crush?” Soobin repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”

“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”

“It never came up,” Soobin mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the kids were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”

“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Soobin to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.

“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Soobin shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.

“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.

Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Soobin’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.

The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.

Hueningkai was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Soobin’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Soobin to groan and sadly flip through it.

“So how long have you two been together?” Hueningkai drawled, leaning forward as Soobin shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Soobin actually sort of talked to, it seems even Hueningkai hadn’t known of their relationship status.

“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Hueningkai as he nodded, turning to make his leave.

“I’m so winning this bet–”

“What bet? HUENINGKAI GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.

At least it looked pretty.

“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”

“Beomgyu, they are children,” Hueningkai mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.

“As their English teacher you should add it into the curriculum to analyze or something,” Beomgyu huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”

“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Hueningkai pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.

“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Beomgyu mused.

“Coward,” Yeonjun reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”

“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.

“Hold up, you’re married?!” Beomgyu shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”

“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Yeonjun cried out, covering his mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”

Hueningkai snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.

“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n was married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Yeonjun scoffed, hitting Hueningkai on the shoulder as he cackled.

“Pay up,” Hueningkai grinned as you shook your head.

“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.

“Yikes, I told Soobin I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Beomgyu admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.

Soobin stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the basket, Soobin,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on PDA, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Soobin’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.

Soobin merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet. You felt a little bad about putting him on the spot, but you wanted to show off your husband for once!

“Pause,” Beomgyu stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”

“I just lost so much money,” Yeonjun groaned, sucking his teeth and already pulling out his wallet as Hueningkai gleefully counted his bills.

“I’m still processing,” Beomgyu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”

“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Soobin grew up in,” you answered, firmly grasping Soobin’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.

“I owe Hueningkai money?” Taehyun questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”

“Suck my dick,” Hueningkai grinned, opening his palm as Taehyun sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.

“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Soobin complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you were pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Beomgyu giggled, dodging the box of candy Soobin picked up and tossed at him.

“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Soobin countered.

“The audacity,” Taehyun murmured as Beomgyu huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.

“Guess we need a new project,” Beomgyu grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Hueningkai, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”

“You’re gonna what?!” Hueningkai exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates

You laughed as you watched Hueningkai practically run away from Beomgyu, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.

Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[nei-ning]

Gonna rant a bit. I saw one set of beautiful anthro arts on another website. Sadly they were done in AI. I did left a comment, complimenting how beautiful these arts were but how sad it made me that they were AI arts.

The artist themselves was kind and polite, telling they use AI because they want to learn and be able to make game arts one day (but they too, apparently, with AI so...)

But then there was another user, AI "artist" too who replied to me that there's absolutely NO ARTIST who can draw anthros with detailed fur, goat like arm, lights, colors etc without editing or photoshopping. On the whole planet, absolutely none! This person clearly don't believe in people's skills when it comes on arts. Heck, I followed one artist on DA who drew ALL her arts traditionally and she drew, and still does, SUPER DETAILED FURRY ANTHROS! No photoshop, editing, nothing digital. Just her hands, paper and a set of color pencils.

Also, if people's art skills wouldn't had been amazing back in the days through mankind, we wouldn't have cave paintings, old amazing paintings or sculptures, ALL DONE BY HANDS IN TRADITIONAL WAY. NO AI, NO PHOTOSHOP OR EDITING.

Humans can learn amazing skills if they only want to. AI artists, maybe not all, just wants to take the easiest way / be lazy (and get lots of likes - like that other person who straight forward said it. That he uses AI to create furry arts to get hundreds of likes).

They also mocked my style / arts, saying they are not good enough to be used in AI arts - yet.

Like what the actual fuck?! I am pissed! I don't even want my arts to be used in AI arts by some lazy idiot (or at all). At least I draw EVERYTHING in my arts, from first sketch line to the last shade / light. Surely my skills are not as good as they could be. After all I'm self-taught, not gone in art school like some have. Not to mention I draw for fun, I draw to bring joy to my watchers, I draw therapy arts to myself, I like to keep my style easy and simple. My arts are a hobby, not professional thing or to fish a lot of likes. If my arts can make someone's day a bit better, then I've done my job! I never haven't taken my arts or skills too seriously, trying to improve them to the top.

Is there times when I wish I would put more effort to my arts, learn and study more, becoming better? Absolutely! But do I bother? Not really. Like I said, this is a hobby. I know I would burnout myself if I would start to force and pressure myself to do better, to learn more, to improve my skills. I mean I struggle to draw even now!

I do have some saved tutorials on Pinterest what I would like to try, yes, but still not in a way like if I would have a fire under my ass.

[shubblelive]

— EMPTY APARTMENTS

summary : wilbur gets to your apartment and finds you and all your belongings gone. you didn’t even say goodbye.

genre : angst -> fluff (“angst” might be a strong word)

warnings : sleep depravation (it’s bed time, wil. you have school in the morning), swearing, wilbur almost has a panic attack

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x reader

pronouns : none (you/yours)

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, lovejoy (mentioned)

word count : 987

note : i'm not the proudest of this, but here you go anyway.

Wilbur hadn’t slept in days. 

It had been a lot, all at once, and he was struggling. He had just got back from America and Dave was already discussing another tour after their next single. He loved travelling and performing; it was what he was meant to be doing. Hearing people scream his silly little lyrics back at him while practically high on adrenaline was a feeling Wilbur wouldn’t be able to replicate with a million streams (as much as he loved them). 

He’d been overwhelmingly anxious in a way that couldn’t be halted by breathing techniques, but he would try his best. Part of it was flying, which he knew shouldn’t have been an active issue given that the song wasn’t even finished yet. What they had been performing was about 90% complete, and another thing giving him grief was wondering whether people would like it. It was different from his first two EPs, and Wilbur knew even the most loyal of fan bases could hate songs. 

That, combined with his hair being everywhere, wasn’t even the cause of the gnawing feeling in his abdomen. That one was simple, and he knew it couldn’t be solved. He missed you.

The tour had been short and he didn’t remember most of it, but he remembered hardly being able to sleep without the feeling of you on top of his left arm. It was worse when he was in the US, and he couldn’t even call you before bed. Of course, he was back now, and he’d been smothering you in affection to the point where you’d had to beg him to let you go and film.

He had been at the studio all day working on the rest of the EP; Wilbur had grown frustrated with just working on that one song when it clearly wasn’t sounding right. It was almost there, but it consumed his every waking moment and he needed a break. Whether it was the song itself, or the music video, or the concept art. The whole thing was just hurting his head, and the feeling was getting worse. 

His eyes were heavy in the taxi ride home, and he’d fought the urge to fall asleep. He was heading for your flat; it was closer. He had a certain paranoia since he’d gotten more known about people knowing where he lived, so he always gave them a random address near where he lived but far enough away that it eased his anxieties. Trudging down the street, drops of rainwater in his hair, he pulled up your texts.

I’ll see you tonight, love, he’d sent early that morning. Yours or mine?

Ha, you had replied.

He pulled out his keyring, finding the key to your place that he’d held onto since forever. It stuck in the lock, like it always did and he closed his eyes as he turned the knob, dropping the keys into the bowl with a clatter and turning on the lights.

The flat was empty. There was still furniture, but all your stuff was gone. His keys lay there lamely on the floor, he was so exhausted he hadn’t even realised you’d taken the end table. Your shelves were bare, the counters were empty; hell even your streaming setup was gone.

You’d left, and you hadn’t even told him.

Was it something he had done? How long had you been planning this? It wouldn’t have been hard to orchestrate, you’d spent most of your nights at his place recently. Where had you gone? Maybe he could find you. At the very least get some closure. 

He called you. Three times. His phone fell from his hand and he lent back against the door. You were the only thing that wasn’t causing him immense amounts of stress, and you were gone. There had been signs, surely. He hadn’t seen any, but there had to have been some.

Did he forget an anniversary? No, none that he could think of. Fuck. What had he done?

He couldn’t stay there, in your empty flat. It was too small, too full and too empty and he stumbled out, through the hallway, down the stairs and onto the street. It was late, the streets were nearly empty but it was too loud. The street lights flickered and Wilbur kicked a lampost. 

It didn’t move. How annoying. 

It took him nearly an hour to get home, somewhat because he continued to try and kick inanimate objects (mostly because he realised he forgot his phone and had to go back). This time, when he put his keys on the end table they fell resolutely onto the end table. 

He flicked the light switch. They turned off.

Why were they already on? Whatever, he probably left them on accidentally. He shed his coat, throwing it over the back of the couch and face-planting onto it. The cushion groans underneath him.

“You ‘right?” Your hand found its way into his hair and his breath was strong against your neck. “Will? Everything okay?”

“You weren’t there,” His voice broke. “I went to your apartment and all your stuff was gone.” His arms were wrapped around you so hard his knuckles were turning white. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” You could feel tears leaking onto your collarbone and you clutched him back.

“Are you alright? Have you still not been sleeping?” Your eyes, warm with concern, met him. “Will, love?”

“I’m sorry.” He kept repeating.

“We’re okay. I promise. I’m moving in here, remember?” your voice was soft, and he couldn’t stop crying.

“Fuck.” His eyes were clamped shut. “I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.”

“You need a break,” you corrected gently. “You’re overworking yourself, Wilbur.”

It took him a while to calm down, and soon he was nodding in your embrace. “Need you.” That night, Wilbur slept better than he had in months and in the morning you were still there. 

[jmdbjk]

Wow.

I can't leave to enjoy a few days vacation without the world falling apart?

Hybe vs. Min HeeJin. Not on anyone's bingo card this year. I have not caught up on everything but who tipped off Hybe about her dastardly plans? The timing of it all... and her little extemporaneous skit she did for a press conference was perhaps part of her plan to turn public opinion in her favor? She claims to have invented kpop or at least made it what it is today but out the other side of her mouth says she hates idol culture?

Hybe's not here to play, they will not be nice. I see no benefit to her for showing us the not so pretty side of the idol industry. Maybe that's her problem, she can't see what she's doing because she's too far into it. Thirty years in the business will make you lose your objectivity. She has no idea she is coming across as a greedy, spoiled, entitled, manipulative, narcissistic, emotional female in a male dominated industry. Basically a nut case.

The lady had a tremendous opportunity to perhaps take ownership of her company in due time, become a great example for female leadership in a country where corporate culture is steeped in chaebolism. Instead she squandered that and thinks she will come out on top. Did she miss the Hybe vs. SM Entertainment episode from last year?

Anyway.

RM's new album! RPWP!

The Monochrome pop up store is doing well!

Jin will be back after 6 Fridays!

In other news. I went to Las Vegas. This is what I saw:

The Bellagio Fountains. They're huge. The Bellagio is SWANK. I looked for Jimin in Dior and Tiffany, Hobi in the Louis Vuitton store, Namjoon in the Bottega Veneta store, but none of them were in there. There was no Calvin Klein store.

When Hobi, JK and Tae were there watching the fountains dance to Dynamite, they were standing here:

Passed by Allegiant Stadium a few times. It's huge.

Drove out to Seven Magic Mountains. I am happy to report the lowest boulders had no writing or graffiti. They were amazingly huge as you can see.

Joon's pic of the above rocks:

Went to AREA 15 and it was HUGE and amazing! It's impossible to show everything that its about, there are multiple buildings and installations and activities, gift shops, bars, etc. We went into the Omega Mart (mega art) experience which led to a maze of fantastically created chambers, each different from the last one, all pulsing with animated lights, texture walls, ceilings and floors.

And ate at Hobak Korean BBQ. We couldn't find out which tables the members of BTS sat at but I got a pic of the Butter album they all signed. There were other autographs from other famous Korean celebs but the BTS signatures were displayed in a more prominent place on the wall.

We also scoped out The Sphere. Also HUGE. The concert space is arena sized. I don't know who was playing there that night but the parking lot was filling up.

We also walked the Strip.

The Fremont Street Experience. That's an animated video screen overhead with ziplines running through the length of it. It's two blocks of casinos, restaurants and gift shops. People are also doing busking and shows at street level.

Hoover Dam, view of the dam from the highway bridge and view of the highway bridge from the dam. Spent a few minutes on the Arizona side.

Hiked in the desert. Saw cactus and wildlife. Drank a lot of water.

Drove to the Mojave Desert Preserve in California just to say we did.

We hated leaving. It was a fun trip. But damn, I have so much stuff to catch up on now. Hiatus my ass.

If Vegas is on the BTS comeback tour I promise I will be there this time.

We gambled at the airport on our way out. The slot machines were next to our gate. And in the baggage claim area. But as you can see, its not just about gambling there.

In case you didn't get it, everything in Vegas is HUUUGGE and FARRRR. Walk a lot, spend a lot of money.

Overall, Las Vegas was clean, the people were extremely friendly and welcoming of course, they might be teaching hospitality as a school subject there, I don't know.

[greenishghostey]

Snap & Bite

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You'd known Eddie since he moved to Hawkins back in 3rd grade. You guys weren't friends - he likely didn't even know your name anymore. But it's amazing how much you can connect with the town freak when sitting outside the principal's office.

Word Count: 3,618

Warnings: None! This is just a good ol' fluffy meet-cute oneshot

Author Notes: Right, this was meant to be short and sweet but its over 3k, but still, enjoy! I'm not sure if this idea has been done before. But I hadn't seen any fics relating to bonding outside the principal's office which would be on brand for Edward.

///

You had never, in your many years of education, been sent to the principal’s office. Keeping your head and staying out of trouble was all you wanted since school was already rough enough. Being one of the few artsy and “out-there” kids in bumfuck Indiana made you a prime candidate for teasing and general unwanted attention. Whether it was about the few streaks of paint that had gotten on your jeans or the fact that you weren’t willing to help anyone with their art projects - it didn’t matter; any facet of your being was an issue in the eyes of Hawkins’ graduating class of 1984.

None of it had been your fault - well, at least not entirely your fault. Marissa Shannon, in all of her venomous, permed glory, chose a dreary Wednesday to push you to breaking point. Normally, Marissa would make passing comments about you, maybe a few to your face, and be done with it. However, today she had taken it upon herself to cross one boundary you held dear. She touched your stuff, your art stuff. 

You were hunched over your various research notes - a mix of library printouts and battered textbooks, working on one of the essays that would be presented alongside it all. You had only just finished the second paragraph when water soaked the entirety of your desk. The paper immediately darkened, the book covers curled even more, and there was no way in hell you were going to save your essay.

A huge puddle formed across your work, and Marissa’s surprised giggle had you almost seeing red. You didn’t say a word, only staring at her for a few seconds. The urge to retaliate didn’t come in the form of words but rather actions. You picked up your plastic pallet full of almost dried-up paint and hurled it at Marissa’s chest, coating her white polo in various shades of green and brown. 

Her shrieking and lunging at you was the last thing you saw before being sent to Principal Higgins’ office by Mrs Gilmore - not before she made it clear that she “was so so disappointed in you”. Apparently, the whole situation had only been an accident. That may have been true, but it didn’t change the fact that Marissa laughed at you. That was the part that cut the deepest. Even when it wasn’t intentional torment, she still couldn’t say a simple sorry. 

The walk of shame to the office was silent. Your sneakers dragged along the floor, and you shoved your hands in your hoodie pockets. So much for keeping your head down. You’d made it to the final months of being in Hawkins and just had to lose your cool. Also, staining a rich girl’s white top - that was gonna bite you in the ass later. 

Outside of Higgins’ office, there was a small row of uncomfortable plastic chairs against the wall. Those chairs weren’t somewhere you wanted to find yourself. Since freshman year, you’d only seen bleeding boys, crying students and pissed-off parents sitting there. If they called your mom, you were so dead. 

Graduation could not come soon enough. It would be such a sweet relief to leave for art school out in Chicago. You were still dragging your feet when the school receptionist, Ms Prince, nodded in greeting and gestured to the chairs. 

A voice, a boy’s, piped up when you walked through the door, “the hell you doing here?” Your gaze snapped up to meet the wide, confused stare of Eddie Munson. 

Now that you thought about it, you had also seen Eddie sitting on those chairs a lot. He tended to lounge back outside of Higgins’ office - whether he was all beat up or just twiddling his thumbs. Everyone and their mother knew that the boy’s very existence was enough for teachers to send him to the principal's office. It surprised you that he actually showed up instead of going to hibernate in his van. 

You and Eddie were in the same grade and had been since he moved to Hawkins back in third grade. Back then, he was a weedy little kid with shaggy hair who everyone thought was mute or deaf because he never spoke. There had also been a rumour that he was actually a girl, but his parents had wanted a boy, and that’s why he had to live with his uncle. In retrospect, you realised that third graders could be fucking evil. Around sixth grade was when Eddie “the freak” came about. Eddie got taller than the other boys in your class and decided that he’d had enough of cowering in corners. You remembered the first day that he talked back to Ricky Galloway, the ringleader of the bullying. 

Admittedly, Eddie’s comeback to Ricky wasn’t anything amazing; it was some snarky comment about the school’s baseball team always losing. Eddie promptly had an entire lunch tray poured over his head, but he had that manic smile on his face. The smile that made everyone uncomfortable. The smile that made people scared of him. 

Eddie was the antithesis of what you wanted for your last few months in education. So, you ignored his confused question and sat down a few chairs away from him. Talking the town pariah would likely only get you into deeper shit. Your attention turned to a loose thread on your grey hoodie, twirling it around your fingers. The quiet was actually really uncomfortable, but you weren’t going to change that. 

“You okay?” Eddie’s voice cut through the hum of the fluorescent lights above you. He really couldn’t sit still or keep quiet for more than a minute. It wasn’t that he was annoying - you found him strange in an intriguing way. But you just weren’t in the mood to talk at any length. Besides, he didn’t know you.

“Yeah. ‘M fine.” You sighed, eyes still focused on fiddling with the thread. 

“Then how come you’re here? You’re like one of the super quiet girls.” Eddie pressed, also fidgeting like you. He was playing with the heavy, silver rings on his right hand. You’d noticed his eclectic taste in jewellery as it evolved - the pig head ring was actually kind of cool. 

You appreciated that Eddie was still nice, even after curating his infamous title and reputation. He was only the mean and scary dude when it was called for. It was more of an armour rather than his actual personality. 

“Got in an argument with someone in class.” The thread broke away from the seam on your hoodie. God fucking damn it. “Gilmore sent me straight here.”

“The art teacher?!” Eddie sputtered, his voice growing up an octave and making you jump. “Shit, what’d you do? You gotta be her favourite for sure. You shiv someone with a brush?” 

Normally, Eddie’s attempts at lightening the mood wouldn’t have bothered you. It was just him trying to seem less scary. But you were sitting there being reminded of the fact that you were the favourite of the artsy kids. You were one of the super quiet girls, and you had snapped. Hit your boiling point, and it wasn’t quite finished yet.

“What? Because I’m the weird little art girl, so I can’t possibly just argue with someone? Is that it?” You spat, finally turning in your chair to meet Eddie’s wide gaze. “Or, or, no, is it because I’m quiet? Being quiet isn’t because I want to be. It just makes everything easier. You might want to give it a try sometime.” That final comment tumbled from your lips before you could fully think about it. Eddie didn’t deserve to be talked to like trash when he was just trying to be friendly. You took a deep breath, deciding to apologise and explain yourself better, but a snort cut you off. 

Which grew into a full-body laugh. Not like the crazy cackle he did at the basketball team across the cafeteria. This laugh had his eyes wrinkle at the corners and an unrestrained smile worm its way across his face.

You hadn’t had or said anything even a little funny. You’d nearly ripped his damn head off. “Wh-what - am I that pathetic?” Eddie tried to contain his barks of laughter, pressing them down into more of a giggle. No one would ever believe you if you said that you’d seen Eddie Munson giggle.

“Nah, not pathetic at all.” He sighed, finally catching his breath and wiping at his eyes. “I get chewed up by everyone here every day. But, you know, you’re the first person to do it and actually make a decent point.” 

“What do you mean? I basically just told you to shut up.”

“Well, yeah, but you said it in a weird way, and you’re right. Shutting up is easier.” Eddie’s eyes softened as he let his head fall back against the bullet board behind him. A small smile remained on his lips as he went back to fiddling with his rings. You sat in stunned silence, unsure whether or not to keep the conversation going. He’d be well and truly put in his place by you snapping at him, but now you wanted him to talk again. Eddie always spoke in a somewhat cryptic and odd way. You assumed it was because he saw the world a little differently from most people.

“Wasn’t weird, just very direct… and a little mean. Sorry about that. It’s been a shitty day.” You confessed, bringing one of your knees up onto the chair to rest your chin on. Shooting Eddie a tight-lipped smile was the best you could offer, in addition to an apology. 

Another snort came from him; it wasn’t in malice. He was genuinely a bit amused by you. “Thought we were giving quiet a try?” 

“God, you suck, man.” You breathed out a laugh. It was so fast that Eddie nearly missed it, but it caught in his ears and rang through his head. The icy exterior that you were putting up had started to be chipped away - not quite at melting point. “Right, here’s a question, why are you here?”

“Oh, just the Wednesday usual,” Eddie stated matter of factly. “Breathed too loud in math.” Part of you knew that his answer was going to be some degree of teachers being assholes. In junior year, you’d watched Eddie, full of the cold, be marched out of Physics because he kept sneezing. He didn’t even try to defend himself when it was something he couldn’t help. Eddie just dragged himself out into the hallway, waiting to be told off.

“And - and I made eye contact with Gina Lawson.” He added, beginning to speak more with his hands. “That girl hates me. I think she’s convinced by all that cult leader crap that goes around.” Eddie shrugged, trying to brush off the knowledge that his very presence had made a girl so uncomfortable. He had fun when it came to messing with guys who thought they were God’s gift but scaring girls always made him feel a little gross.

“Nah, Gina thinks your trailer is kitted out with furniture made from cheerleader skin.” You joked. “Way worse than just the cult stuff.” You had fully turned in your chair towards Eddie. Talking to him was actually helping you feel a little better about everything. His lightheartedness allowed you to have a much-needed cooling-off period. 

“Huh, that one’s news to me, actually.” Eddie beamed like he was pleasantly surprised by this new stain on his reputation. In your mind, you could imagine him doing a paraphrased version of that one Sally Field speech on one of the cafeteria tables, “I can’t deny the fact you hate me!” 

“Yeah, the girls have upped the ante with you. The skin furniture and blood drinking are the locker room favourites.” Last week before gym class, you had overheard a few girls talking about Eddie and “his cult”. It was like the guy was some kind of vampiric leper that also ate puppies on the weekend. You had to wonder if people could actually hear themselves talking about Eddie. Every rumour and claim was more outlandish than the previous week’s. 

“See, that’s how I know it’s all made-up shit.” Eddie grinned, pointing a finger at you. 

There he went again with his odd way of speaking. Truthfully, you found yourself enjoying the fact that he could keep a conversation going so smoothly, if not a bit strangely. “What part? Is blood drinking your hard limit?” You giggled. 

Giggling wasn’t something you were really known to do. Especially in front of a guy. Wednesday was panning out to be fucking bizarre. 

“The blood is for the sacrifices. Obviously.” Eddie said snarkily. You feel him implying “duh”. “You know how hard AB+ is to come by these days? That’s the man downstairs’s favourite.” You had to give Eddie a lot of credit for being able to commit to a bit. If anything, though, you were actively encouraging him to keep it going. This was the most you’d laughed in a while. 

“It’s AB- that’s the rare type.” You interjected. Catching Eddie slightly off guard if his curious look was anything to go by. He did this thing where he tilted his head like a confused shaggy dog. “AB+ is pretty common. It’s negative that’s the hard to find one. My mom’s a nurse, so yeah.” Your voice trailed off slowly. He didn’t ask about why you’d said that. You shouldn’t have just shared the information. Eddie didn’t care. You had probably ruined the bit; you never were the best with jokes.

“Learn something new every day, huh?” Eddie smirked. He had also shifted in his chair to face you fully. “You ever think about joining a cult? We’ve only got one other girl, Abby, and zero medical knowledge between any of us.” 

His response took you aback for a few seconds. Eddie met your awkwardness head-on and with encouragement. 

“Hmm, tempting. Can I be the official pentagram artist?” You asked. The air of comfort that now filled the stuffy waiting area outside Higgins’ office was a welcome change. Maybe facing the principal - and then your mom later - wouldn’t be so hard. 

The big, almost goofy smile you had become familiar with in the last few minutes appeared on Eddie’s face again. You weren’t entirely sure why he was smiling and laughing with you so much. The laughter was usually directed at you. But he would have understood that better than anyone. Eddie had the town church group ready to throw him in the lake to see if he was a witch at a moment's notice.

“If there’s anyone who gets to take that title away from me, it’s gonna be you.” Eddie asserted. “I remember seeing some of your stuff before. Like that one - the picture of the lake last winter when it nearly froze over. That was yours, right?” 

How did he know that was your work? You hadn’t put a name on it when Mrs Gilmore insisted on displaying it outside her class. Your dad had let you swipe his good camera for the day since you needed to find some artistic inspiration around Hawkins. The town was very much lacking in any form of aesthetic intrigue, so you marched yourself into the surrounding woods. It was a really cold winter last year, and as Eddie reminded you, the lake had the perfect layer of glittery ice and frost over it. The backdrop of leafless trees and the brilliant, crisp blue sky made for a gorgeous contrast and arguably one of the best paintings you’d ever done. 

A painting that Eddie remembered fondly. 

“Yeah, that one was me. How’d you know that, though? I didn’t let Gilmore put my name near it.” You questioned, filled with curiosity now that Eddie was deciding to fully let his mean and scary mask slip away. 

Eddie’s eyes widened suddenly, and his jaw twitched. He knew you hadn’t put your name on it, but he thought you would have at least forgotten that tiny detail. Now he had talked himself into a corner that you had him pressed into - with no escape other than the plain truth.

“That art contest we had in middle school, eighth grade. You won it with that drawing of big cleaning in the woods near the trailer park.” Eddie admitted, back to fidgeting slightly, but this time with the ends of his hair. “You paint trees and clouds the same way.” 

It was true; you did. Back in seventh grade, your art teacher caught onto your love for the subject and taught you neat little painting tricks for landscapes. To this day, tree trunks and every form of cloud was painted in that same style. It was a subtle little marker of your work. No more than some purposeful brush strokes, a bit of smudging and an ungodly amount of colour mixing. The fact that Eddie - the guy who you assumed didn’t even remember your name - remembered how you painted fucking bark was-

It was-

It just was. That was all your mind could string together from the information.

“I’m really surprised that you remember that. Like, no one’s ever noticed any of the little things I do.” You gaped, still in shock at Eddie’s words. “The way I do clouds is something that Gilmore fucking despises, actually. Says I shouldn’t use my hands so much.” 

“Well, that makes it even more sick.” Eddie smiled, knocking his knuckles against the chair between the two of you.

“You entered that art contest too, though, didn’t you?” You asked, raising your brows at the now shy boy beside you. You remembered that he entered, but you couldn’t remember what he had painted. 

Eddie was picking at the stray threads on his ripped jeans now. “Ah-ha, yeah. I did the gnarly-looking dragon painting. Had messed up wings and bloody teeth and everything.” He laughed nervously as he recalled his early attempt at art. Eddie had gotten a hell of a lot better with his drawing since then. 

“I actually really liked that one. You actually did something you thought was cool instead of just the standard fancy-schmancy art choices.” You reassured with a soft chuckle. “It was that other thing, though, yeah? Because it had two legs instead of four.”

Eddie was going to start getting dry eyes with how much his were widening that afternoon. First, you play along with his super mega satan blood cult schtick. Now, you remembered that his painting wasn’t of a dragon but a wyvern. A big difference that not many run-of-the-mill folks would know. A winged lizard thing was a dragon, end of story. Centuries-old folklore be damned. 

You stared as Eddie hastily started pulling off his leather jacket and heavily decorated denim vest. He was damn near ripping the clothing off so he could get to the patch of skin on his arm that might impress you a little. 

“What the fuck are do-” You started hesitantly. A guy started hauling his layers off. You’ll be a bit on guard even if said guy was Eddie - the apparent big softy.

“That drawing I did. I did a better one last year.” Eddie explained, down to his long-sleeved black t-shirt and quickly yanked one of the sleeves up. The majority of his arm was exposed before you saw it. On the back of his bicep was a hissing, scaly wyvern tattoo. “Can’t believe I forgot where I got the idea for this bad boy from.” He grinned, proudly thrusting his arm closer to you. 

You quickly leaned over the empty chair, itching the get a better look at his arm. Tattoos always interested you, and you planned to get one once you got to Chicago next year. They were still illegal to get in Indiana, but it didn’t surprise you even a little that Eddie was covered in ink.

“Dude. You drew that?” You chirped, grabbing Eddie’s arm and moving it so you could see the full wyvern. “This is fucking cool! Did you do the shading and detailing too?” 

Eddie could feel a distinct, yet somewhat foreign, heat crawling up his neck. You had his arm in a firm grip, which was skin-to-skin contact. He was eighteen; sue him. He nodded enthusiastically to your artistic questions about that particular tattoo and if he had others. 

Neither of you took notice of principal Higgins exiting his office to call one of you inside. He stood there, tiredly watching two of the oddest children he had ever met bonding over illegally done tattoos. After about thirty more seconds of observation, Higgins cleared his throat loudly, causing you and Eddie to flinch back into your seats. 

“Good afternoon, students.” Principal Higgins greeted coldly. “Munson, you first. Get moving.” He gestured for Eddie to follow him as he floated back into his stuffy little office. It stank of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener - to try and cover the cigarette smell.

Eddie raised his eyebrows at you and gave you a little wave as he stood up - collecting his various layers of jackets as he went. You weren’t entirely ready to have your interaction with Eddie Munson finish there. 

“Hey?” You whispered, waving your hand to get his full attention. “Good luck in there.” 

Eddie only snorted and shot you that genuine toothy grin you had started to like quite a lot. He pointed into Higgins’ office, then at himself, then mimed a noose around his neck. All of it done with a mischievous glint in his warm brown eyes. 

You giggled again. Eddie “the freak” Munson was the first person to make you giggle. 

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .4

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom finds noelle locked out of her apartment

word count: 5849

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

warnings: alcohol consumption

Winter break was just around the corner, the days were becoming shorter but the assignments were getting longer. It was the final crunch before the holiday season and everybody -- even the professors -- were feeling the strain of long hours, chilled nights and the impending threat of black ice.

"One! And two! Up! Up! Steven! Lift your toes higher! You're a scorpion!" Stanis' voice boomed across the studio, a stark contrast to the gentle, peppy piano melody playing on the loudspeaker. He watched each of his dancers with a swift eagle eye, always the first to call out when someone was sloppy or off balance.

"Very good," he nodded as the music came to a close, turning then to another student in the second row, "Amber! Not so good. Are you okay?"

Amber, a petite young ginger, nodded sheepishly behind Noelle, "I was off balance," she admitted.

Stanis nodded, "Thank you... for stating the truth," he mumbled at the end, his accent someone becoming thicker the more he lowered his voice. He glanced at his wrist watch, then to the evening display just outside the window, "Let's call it a day, here! Go home! Ice your legs! Relax! We'll take it from the top tomorrow!"

The students had scattered before he could even finish, rushing to their lockers to grab their things and change for the frigid weather outside.

Noelle left with Iseul, the latter furiously texting on her phone as they walked over to their lockers, "How're you doing with the arts and poly paper?" she asked.

"Slowly," Noelle admitted, "How about you?"

"Like rubbing a cheese grater over my forehead," Iseul shrugged back, "It's all theoretical, philosophical nonsense I was hoping to leave behind in high school,"

Noelle cocked a brow, "You studied philosophy in high school?" she asked.

"To my chagrin, yes," Iseul simpered, "Take a note from me: don't send your kids to private school,"

"Noted," Noelle nodded, "Who're you texting?"

"Josh from modern. He's having a party next week," Iseul replied.

"After finals?"

"Mmhm. You wanna come with me?"

"What night?"

"Friday,"

Noelle grimaced, "We have showcase rehearsals til' six,"

"Yeah, but we also need a reason to let off some steam..." Iseul trailed off, feigning a pout her way, "Bianca will come,"

"I'll ask her later," they came to Noelle's locker, "Text me the details, I'll let you know,"

Iseul shrugged, walking backwards to her own locker, "Alrighty. Get home safe, Elles!"

"See ya tomorrow!" Noelle opened her locker and pulled out her bag, pulling out her sneakers, her jacket, digging through her purse for her transit card until she came to a harrowing realization.

She was missing her house key...

Tom had debated back and forth on going home for the holidays, it would be the first time he'd spend Christmas without his family and while he knew he would miss them terribly, the money was too much to splurge on -- on top of all his other expenses. He had finally found a job at least, a desk clerk at the library on campus. It paid minimum wage and he worked to the extent of his student visa, but earning some money was definitely better than having none. Plus it gave him time to focus on his own homework. The funds his mum had wired over definitely softened the buffer in his expenses.

He pulled his wool scarf tighter around his neck, his gloves doing little to ward off the frigid winds that had swept over New York. Not even crammed in a subway car with total strangers could warm him up. The weather had reported threats of snow but so far Mother Nature was holding out on them.

Doris had her feet propped up on her desk and a bowl of fresh popcorn in her lap when Tom ducked inside. Her eyes wide behind her glasses as she checked the time; 7:43pm.

"Hi Doris!"

"Well, well! You're home late!" she chided, a small smile playing at her lips, "What was her name?"

Tom chuckled back, approaching the desk, "Wasn't that kind of night. I was working," he replied.

"Oooh! That's right! I forgot you're a part of the system now!" she awed, "Well, don't let them push you over! If they give you any trouble you send them my way!" she pointed a bony, French manicured finger at him.

"No problem," Tom grinned back, "What's the plot tonight?" he pointed to her computer.

Doris enthusiastically sat up in her seat, passing him the bowl of popcorn, "Oh! It's Days of Our Lives! Stefano gave Marlena mind-altering drugs while she was sleeping, and he whisked her away into this fantasy romance world. But she's so vulnerable in this state she becomes possessed by the devil himself!" she whispered at the end.

Tom cocked a brow, too amused by her mannerisms to point out how terrible a flop that plot line was. He nodded nevertheless.

"Sounds interesting," he chuckled.

Doris rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't shit with me. It's completely ridiculous I know," she chided back.

"Don't spoil it for me, yeah?"

"In your dreams, buster," she smirked back, "Hey -- what was that show your dad worked on?"

"Emmerdale,"

"Was it any good?"

"According to The Telegraph, yeah," he nodded.

Doris leaned over her keyboard, "Well, don't tell nobody, but my husband's second cousin's nephew just introduced me to pirating on these special websites. He's gonna set up a VPN for me -- whatever that is," she whispered, "I'm gonna give it a go!"

Tom simpered with amusement, "That's great. Lemme' know what you think," he started backing off, "I'm assuming the elevator's still down?"

Doris nodded with an exaggerated sigh, "When my brother's wife's cousin gets a hold of her son in law, they're gonna give me a discount to get it fixed. He's an electrician," she replied, "For now, you just gotta leg it,"

"No worries. Take care, Doris!" and he started for the stairs.

"Oh! Tom!" she called him back before he disappeared, "You wanna check in on that dancer across the hall from you? She lost her key today and who knows what time her roommate's getting home,"

Tom's brows furrowed, his curiosity simmering, "Noelle or Bianca?" he asked.

"Noelle. Poor thing was so dejected when she came in," she shook her head, "I offered her a seat to wait here but she's just sitting in the hallway,"

"Don't you have a spare key?" he asked.

She scoffed back, rolling her eyes, "If my husband wasn't so cheap, yes. But now I gotta get a new key made for her -- because that's not gonna cost him less,"

Tom nodded sympathetically, "No problem. I'll see you later,"

He hopped his way up the stairs, the textbooks in his bag weighing down on his shoulder but the pep in his step was surprisingly fresh. And sure enough, he found Noelle sitting in front of her door. Her eyes were closed, her bag a folded mess beside her and her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Tom was worried she may've been a sleep, but as he approached closer she opened one eye, sitting up and stretching when she saw him.

"Oh, hey!" she greeted groggily.

"Hi," Tom crouched down before her, and amused smile on his lips, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just resting my eyes,"

"I see," he nodded, "I've heard you had a day,"

She scoffed, shaking her head, "You don't know the half of it,"

He simpered, "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she shrugged listlessly, "I locked the door when I left this morning. Somewhere between 7am and 6:45pm I lost my key along the way,"

His brows raised, "You've been out here for nearly an hour?" he nearly exclaimed.

Noelle nodded, "More like forty-five minutes,"

"Where's Bianca?"

"Rehearsing for our Christmas showcase. I can't disturb her right now," she replied, "It's okay, I've just been watching shit on Youtube,"

He smiled sympathetically, standing up straight, "Well, I'm here now. So you can hide out with me until she gets back," he said.

Noelle smiled sheepishly, feeling her cheeks burn as his gaze bore into her, "Oh, don't worry about it. Bianca'll be home soon," she assured him.

"Forty five minutes is already too long," he reasoned, "I'll feel better anyway knowing you're not out here by yourself,"

She smirked back, "Aww, are you worried about me, Tom?" she teased.

He tried so hard not to smile, rolling his eyes in an attempt to cover it up. So he extended his hand to her, "I'm an Aquarius; a smart person told me we're stubborn about this stuff,"

Noelle rolled her eyes, though nevertheless she held her hand up for him to grab. Tom pulled her to her feet, grunting as the force shoved his back into the wall and Noelle into his chest. They paused momentarily, gazes fixed in a time lock, her free hand suddenly burning against the wool covering his chest. Bashfulness pulled at their lips as Noelle stepped away and dusted herself off while Tom adjusted his jumper and coat.

"Sorry about that," she chuckled.

"No! It's okay!" he assured her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," she picked up her bag, silently hoping he wouldn't pick off the pink tinging her cheeks, "After you,"

They stepped inside his loft, the room a little messier than what Tom would've liked but Noelle didn't seem to mind as she kicked her shoes off and sunk back into the couch, letting out an exasperated, heavy sigh. Tom laughed to himself as he peeled off his coat, to which Noelle pouted back.

"I can hear you, ya know," she called, mock accusation slipping from her tongue, "I'm glad my suffering is so entertaining for you!"

"My sincerest apologies," he simpered.

"Is Sunny here?" she asked, looking around the space curiously.

Tom shook his head, "He's out at a symposium tonight, some fancy composer I've never heard of. He'll be back in a bit. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she nodded, "What's cooking, Gordon Ramsay?"

Tom sauntered over to the fridge, swinging the door open as his eyes glazed over leftovers, and whatever sparse vegetables and random containers they had in there. All Sunny really had was his labelled orange juice, a six pack of fruit yogurt and some carrots -- while Tom barely had anything of his own in there. He really needed to go shopping.

"Alright, we're ordering in," he decided, coming to sit on the couch beside her, smiling coyly at her, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,"

"How kind," she tittered, her head falling back against the cushion, "Whatever you feel like, I'm not picky,"

"... Sushi?"

"Love it,"

Forty minutes later they were both situated on the couch, Tom's laptop set up in front of them as BoJack Horseman played out on Netflix. They could hear the rain pattering against the window, the walls humming as the heat had kicked into high gear and in the moment the air held a nice, cozy warmth. The duo sat beside each other, his legs stretched out across the floor while she curled hers up close to her chest, shoulders just inches away from each other as they ate their dinner.

"So, what're you doing for Christmas?" she asked over the commotion from the show, "You going home?"

Tom shook his head, "Can't, I waited too long to book and the prices are ridiculous," he replied.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she awed.

"Don't be," he shrugged back, "I'm just gonna stay here,"

She sat up abruptly, "Not by yourself, are you?"

"Yeah. Sunny's going home for a week. It's alright, though," he assured with a swift nod, "Doris was offering me Christmas dinner at her place -- with her husband, her second cousin's nephew, her aunt twice removed or something..."

Noelle chuckled softly, "Are you gonna' go?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know. I might just fake sick to get out of it," he admitted sheepishly, "What about you? You going back to Maine?"

"No, my family are coming down. My uncle got a bonus at work so they're staying at the Ritz," she flourished her hand in the air, feigning an expression of shock and awe.

Tom laughed softly, "Sounds lovely,"

"Right? My aunt's all excited," she popped an avocado roll into her mouth.

"Are you gonna' stay with them?"

"Probably. But they're here just for a week," she glanced back at him, "I'll be hanging around though, if you wanna go hang out here and there?"

Tom was flattered, a little taken aback, but he considered the option. Spending any more time with Noelle was surely a plus no matter the occasion, though on the other hand she didn't want to take her away from her family.

"Oh, I don't -- I don't wanna impose on your visit like that," he replied.

"It wouldn't be imposing," Noelle shrugged back, "I just... I don't like seeing anybody alone during the holidays... and you're kinda cool to be around, so..." she glanced aside sheepishly.

He cocked a brow, "Noelle Berendina thinks I'm cool? Gosh, my mum's never gonna believe me!" he gawked.

Noelle rolled her eyes, slapping his arm gently, "Yeah, you are cool, you friggin' dork! And anyone who says otherwise has to fight me!"

He smirked back at her, "You get locked out of your own apartment... but I'm the dork?" he chuckled.

She feigned a pout, crossing her arms like a child and sinking back in the couch cushions, "I'm not saying you're wrong... but you're so mean," she grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, you wanna see mean, do you?" he leaned over and snatched a yam roll from her box, popping it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.

Noelle gasped dramatically, her hand gripping her chest, "You son of bitch! How dare you!" she gaped, "I'm gonna call up your mom,"

"So you're a tattletale now?" he quipped.

"Only when someone needs to be tattled on," she reached over and took one of his salmon rolls for revenge.

He feigned his own insult, shaking his head mockingly at her while his teeth clenched down on his inner lip, trying not to laugh, "Okay, okay, if I think about your offer can we call it a truce?"

"Okay, deal. Truce," she offered him her hand, giggling bashfully as he shook on it with her, "Anyway, how are you doing with finals?"

"Alright, actually," he shrugged, "I got a paper due, we're performing monologues, and we're having a small improv show on Friday,"

"Oh really?" she shuffled closer, "You do much improv?"

"I'm not too bad," he admitted, "It took a long time for me to be okay with looking insane in front of people,"

"Well, isn't that a major part of being an actor? You can't be the one-dimensional cool guy all the time -- ya know, unless you're Ryan Gosling," she replied.

"Exactly," he nodded, "The only one I'm kind of worried about is Jordan,"

"Ichabod Crane?" she smirked, "Stanis didn't like his cool-guy-with-back-against-the-wall attitude,"

Tom snickered, "He was just doing it to impress the other girls,"

"Really? You could've fooled me!" she gawked sarcastically, "He's only one in a long line of cool guys who tried to play it off in dance class,"

"I promise, he's a nice guy," he assured her, "He's just... I don't know,"

Noelle gave an endearing smile, "Well anyway, if I go to a performance, I'm more likely to go for you than for him anyway," she replied.

A warmth swelled in his chest, and Tom pondered his next words carefully before he spoke, "I know you have rehearsals Fridays, but would you like to come to the show?" he asked.

Noelle cocked a brow, mulling it over in her head. On her baser instincts she wanted to shout an enthusiastic 'hell yea!', but her own showcase was approaching quickly.

"Hmm, what time does it start?"

"Six, in the McCallum Pavilion,"

She nodded slowly, "I finish at six usually, but if I sprint I could make it a little after -- if they accept late entries," she replied, "I'm also supposed to go to this party after... but -- would you be down to come with?"

Tom was a little unsure at first, he was still shy, didn't know many people, and if a lot of these people were dancers then they may have been wondering why he was there.

Though it was as if Noelle could read his mind, "There's gonna be some other acting and music students there, not just dancers," she assured him.

"Alright," he nodded, "So, you come to the improv show and I come to the party with you after?"

She shrugged lithely, "Well, if you wanna' make it sound so transactional..." she feigned an eye roll.

Tom shook his head, "I didn't --" but he stopped when he saw her coy smirk. Rolling his eyes he nudged her, his elbow knocking gently into her side, "Shut up,"

"Make me," she shot back snidely.

He pondered it for a moment -- just a moment -- how close she was, her cocky attitude dripping off her tongue and her dark brown eyes goading him into mischief. His own eyes averted to her lips, it was only for a second, but he thought about how soft she might feel, how she may taste of soy sauce and ginger, and how quickly he should shut her up so easily.

But he didn't, he wouldn't dare step over that boundary so hastily. So his only retaliation was to steal another one of her sushi rolls.

Time became a lesser construct as the night went on. Sunny had come home around nine-thirty, exhausted and hungry as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't give a second glance to the mismatched laced sneakers at the door, only stopping when he sat the back of Tom's head peaking from behind the couch. Curled up beside him was Noelle, the both of them fast asleep in front of the rolling credits for BoJack Horseman.

Friday night rolled around sooner than many students would've liked. So many projects were due, so many deadlines were crossed and the majority of students were burning at the end of their candle.

The first year drama students had their first showcase tonight; an improv show that was only really open to family and friends. The McCallum Pavilion was a small studio space not often looked upon in conjunction with the rest of the campus, not even Tom knew of its existence until he was brought in for rehearsals. It was a relatively large space, dark indigo walls and dark, heavy hanging curtains that shrouded a risen platform. There was a single spotlight that was operated by a crew member and six rows of ten chairs set up before the platform.

By ten to six the chairs were already being filled, handfuls of faces that Tom didn't know as he peaked out from behind the curtain. The only face he could recognize was Sunny, his visage murky between passing bodies but he looked enthusiastic nonetheless. He kept his bag on the empty chair beside him and told people he was saving the spot for a friend.

"Tom!" his instructor hissed from behind, drawing him back from the curtain by his arm, "What're you doing over here? They're running warmups, we're on in ten minutes!"

"Sorry! I'm going!" he nearly tripped over himself as he dashed for the green room.

Simultaneously, Noelle had just stuffed her dance bag into her locker (ensuring her new key was safely tucked inside) before taking off in a sprint down the hallway. She had begged and bartered with Stanis all week to let her go early today, and after some pushing and kissing ass he eventually agreed. Bianca and Iseul were of course perplexed when she dashed out of the studio.

The entirety of the campus could be walked in about twenty minutes one way, but it was already five-to-six and she still had little idea where the McCallum Pavilion was. But her best start was the drama department, and from there she would have to figure it out.

Sure enough at the stroke of six the lights came down and the spotlight focused in on the stage. The audience gave a roaring applause as Tom's instructor, Charles, took to the stage. A portly older gentleman, he kept his hands clasped behind his back, smiling gleefully at the crowd through his thin-rimmed glasses.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you! I appreciate you all coming out tonight to support our first years. They've been working incredibly hard all semester to bring you this show, the first of many that they will be performing for a live audience," he was very soft spoken, though his voice carried a great range all the way to the back of the studio, "Our first performance I lovingly refer to as 'Change'. We're going to have two performers come up, an audience member gives them a scenario they have to act out. And when they hear 'Change!', they have to change the scenario on the fly. Please note, the audience is not allowed to shout at the actors, we have a designated 'change' person,"

Noelle had followed the campus map on her phone as best as she could, finally meandering her way down an obscure hallway and sure enough there was a sandwich board outside the door advertising for the show.

Tom and another student, Marcelle, were the first ones selected to come up on the stage. The audience cheered as they came under the spotlight, and Tom couldn't help but wipe his palms on the back of his pants, hoping his nerves wouldn't betray him.

He didn't hear the click of the door opening, nor did he see Noelle slip into the crowd and find her place next to Sunny. Sunny lit up as soon as he saw her and moved his bag.

"Hey,"

"Hi," they both whispered, "Did I miss anything?" she asked.

"You're just in time, they're starting," he replied.

An audience member was selected and Tom and Marcelle were given the scenario: two people in an old folks home trying to watch TV. Marcelle took a seat in the pre-positioned chair and Tom hunched his back. He started waddling over to Marcelle, his hand positioned as though he had a remote in his hand and his eyes were squinting.

"Marcelle?"

"Yes?"

"Marcelle, can you hear me!?" he squawked.

Marcelle was slightly hunched in her own chair, "Yes, I can hear you Tom!" she boomed back.

Tom turned to the audience, pointing his invisible remote at them, "I'm trying to change the channel on the television!"

"It's not on, Tom!" she snapped, agitation in her voice.

Then a voice behind the curtain shouted, "Change!" and Marcelle's dialogue switched.

"It's never been on, Tom!"

"Change!"

"It's a microwave!" and the crowd began to laugh.

Tom's face twisted in anguish, "It's a microwa- oh! Oh the crows feet is getting to me now!" he cried, shuffling back and forth like an old man, "I don't know left from right!"

"Change!"

"I don't know right from left!"

"Change!"

"I don't know to from fro!"

"Change!"

"I don't know if I have a fro!" and they paused as the audience laughed some more. Noelle and Sunny were plenty amused already at the debauchery on stage.

"You're bald!" Marcelle shouted back at him, obviously go for a bit, "For goodness sake, Tom! I've gotta find myself a new roommate! I'm making a complaint!" and she went to get up from her seat.

"Change!"

And she sat down again, "I'm gonna sit right here, and hope that you die quickly!"

Tom gasped in horror, bemusing the crowd even more, "Marcelle, why are you always so mean to me!?" he cried.

"Change!"

"Why're you always so lovely to me?" and he perked up immediately.

"Change!"

And he sauntered over to where Marcelle was sitting, "I would like you to tell me a story," and he looked to the audience, "About me when I was younger. What was I like before I was bald?" on his last word his gaze fixed on Sunny, and then Noelle right beside him. He swallowed a nervous chuckle, unable to help but grin like a fool nonetheless.

Marcelle sighed heavily, slouching in her chair and dropping her head back before he stared up at Tom, "You were a brave man --!"

"Change!"

"You were a coward!"

"Change!"

"You were an electrician!"

"Change!"

"You were a pilot!"

"Change!"

"You were a storm trooper!" Tom had his hands on his hips, nodding as he looked quite pleased with that answer. Noelle couldn't help but laugh along with the crowd, drawn in by Tom's charisma and pairing unhinged behaviour.

"Change!"

Marcelle huffed, "You were the type of man who leaves his wife at the altar!" and the audience let out a round of hissing and ooohs. At that Tom's demeanour changed, picking at threads of shame and dismay. Though he was doing everything in his power not to laugh.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Change!"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Change!"

"Lovely biscuit!"

"Change!"

"My mother!" he suddenly shouted, his voice breaking towards the end. Marcelle bit her lip as not to laugh as well.

"What about your mother?" she asked.

Tom turned back to her, "I can see --"

"Change!"

And he jumped back, waving his arms as he looked around, "Oh my gosh! I can't see!"

"Change!"

And he straightened his posture, "H-How dare you remind me of that!" he shouted at Marcelle.

Marcelle came forward in her seat, "She was my sister!" she shouted back, "She never got over it!"

"But you're my wife, Marcelle!" he exclaimed.

"And she never forgave me!"

"Change!"

"She forgave me quite quickly!"

At that Charles came out from behind the curtain, closing the scene. Tom and Marcelle took a bow and were ushered off the stage to make room for the next pair. The scene was no more than under two minutes but Noelle was plenty entertained. She was captivated, utterly amused, and pleasantly surprised by Tom's performance. She hadn't imagined he could be so dramatic and comically absurd for the life of her.

As the curtains fell on the captivating improv show, the buzz of excitement lingered in the air. People spilled out, chatter filled with laughter and lingering anticipation. Tom had linked up with Noelle and Sunny afterwards, the both of them singing his praises.

By the time eight o'clock had rolled around, Tom, Noelle, and Sunny had made it across town to the house party. Josh, a second year from modern contemporary, was a close enough acquaintance that he didn't bat an eye when Noelle came strolling in with her friends.. Within the confines were ten or twelve other kids, all within their age. Some of them Tom recognized as the other ballerinas, some he knew from his own department. The house smelled distinctively of air freshener and hot food, pizza from down the street no doubt. There was a stereo somewhere blasting hits off of Billboard's Top 100.

"Hey!" Bianca's voice suddenly boomed, "You made it!" the blonde ballerina threw her arms around Noelle, nearly falling into her in fact as her socks slipped on the varnished hardwood. Noelle chuckled, though she could smell the bitter tang of vodka and ale coming off her breath already.

"Yep. I told you," Noelle said, pulling her upright on her feet, "B, what time did you start drinking?"

"Right when I got here,"

"And that was...?"

"Oh, about six-thirty," she replied with a drunken giggle.

"And you couldn't wait for me?" she gawked back.

Bianca ignored her, her hazy focus then zeroing on the boys behind her, "Oh my gosh! Tom, you came!" she suddenly had her arms around him in a tight hug, it was the most attention she had paid to him in the time they'd known each other.

"Hi Bianca!" he chuckled, a little taken aback at first.

"And Sunjit, too!" she then went into hug Sunny, "You never come to these things!"

Sunny smiled bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. Truth be told, he didn't think he'd really fit in with the dancers and actors, "... I just figured, it's the end of the term, so..."

Bianca's face lit up, "Then, we have to get you a drink. Come on!" she took his hand and lead him off in another direction. Tom and Noelle glanced at each other, he had a bewildered grin on his face while she was shaking her head.

"That's the friendliest she's ever been with me!" he awed.

She chuckled sheepishly, "Her demeanour usually melts with some vodka,"

Regardless of Bianca's lightweight mannerisms, the kids dispersed through the party, slowly getting to mingle and chat with the other kids. Tom had gotten acquainted with a few more students from different departments, he had made the acquaintance of one particular musician, Connie, a saxophone major in her third year. However, he found his gaze kept shifting, always searching out for Noelle's face in the crowd.

He eventually spotted her on the couch, engrossed in conversation with another guy. He had seen him around a few times, another dancer but he wasn't a ballet major. He could see how she laughed, how her shoulders bounced and her eyes fluttered, so entertained by whatever joke the other guy was telling her. Tom didn't like feeling jealous, he knew he had no right to be so but he couldn't help himself. Resent was bubbling in his gut, on the skim of it was insecurity because this guy was quite attractive. There was an aura of self-assurance surrounding him that Tom longed to possess. He aspired to captivate and amuse Noelle just as effortlessly as this person did.

"Hey, Tom," Iseul suddenly appeared from behind him, "You okay?"

Tom glanced at her, nodding swiftly, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good,"

Iseul's gaze fixed on Noelle and the other boy, and her face fell, "That's Daniel. He's a hip hop dancer, but the professors call him 'slack-ass'," she mumbled, "Honestly... I think Noelle could do way better..." at that she turned her gaze back to Tom, a coy smile teasing at her lips.

At one point a game of truth or dare had broken out, silly, juvenile questions were asked and immature, embarrassing dares were completed. When Tom was put on the spot, he should have known better than to trust Josh, the host, and his precarious questions.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Josh practically howled with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. Iseul glowered, about to tell him off but Bianca beat her to it.

“Shut up, Josh. It’s not that big of a deal,”

Josh sat up straight, looking down at Bianca as she sat on the floor. He wiped the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down, “Hey, I’m your senior – you gotta’ talk to me with a bit more respect,” he prodded teasingly, but Noelle only rolled her eyes, her previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Josh's insensitive comment.

Her tone was excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah? I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to your juniors...”

Iseul laughed, shaking off the flurry of red in her cheeks, “Don’t worry about me, B. I don’t think I can take Josh very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum,”

The circle of friends in the basement erupted into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“Ouch!” one of Josh's friends said, leaning across the floor to high-five her.

Josh stuttered, failing at serving a good comeback, “It’s okay, Josh,” Noelle laughed, her sympathetic tone condescending, “maybe there’s a tutorial online,”

“I know how to make a girl cum!” he snapped. Everyone just laughed, even Tom and Sunny, ignoring him and carrying on with the game.

"Iseul, it's your turn," another girl, Monica, reminded them.

Iseul's dark eyes flitted across the bleary faces of her friends. In that moment she singled out Tom, partly because he had gone unnoticed by others and partly because she was feeling mischievous. "Tom, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he answered confidently, to which another kid jeered at him.

"Hey, boring! You chose truth last round, man!" he pointed out.

"So what?" Sunny asked from the couch, squished between Iseul and another music student, "Let him do what he wants,"

Tom's primary instincts urged him to stick with the truth. However, he found himself contemplating that Iseul was a genuine sweetheart — how bad could her dare really have been?

"No, it's alright," he assured Sunny, turning back to Iseul, "Let's do dare," he tried to ignore Noelle's coy smile from his left periphery.

"I dare you to kiss Noelle," nope, he was very, very wrong.

"W-What?" he stuttered.

"What?" Noelle was suddenly attentive; her eyes widened, her lips stiffened with a mix of surprise and hesitation.

“With tongue, and for 10 seconds,” she added. In that moment, Tom took back every kind word and thought he ever had for Iseul.

“Wait, wait, don’t I get a say in this?” Noelle asked, her pretty gaze nearly overwhelming as she turned to Tom. 

Josh began to make chicken noises, flapping his arms and bopping his head. Meanwhile Bianca was trying desperately to hide her giggles behind her solo cup.

"Either you do the dare, or you take a shot," Iseul reminded him

Tom looked back at Noelle, who was still looking at him. Instead of arguing with Iseul and letting her have more fun, he ignored her and softly asked, “Is it ok?”

“-- Sure” she smiled reassuringly – her confidence flooding his system with surprise and ardor.

With each beat, his heart raced, a relentless drumbeat echoing within him. He had experience with some other girls, yet the mere anticipation of her tender lips against his provoked an intense surge of excitement. The thought of her soft touch had his heart yearning to break free from the confines of his ribcage, making the moment more exhilarating and daunting at the same time.

His lips met hers tentatively at first, but Noelle's hand found its way to his neck, pulling him closer. They were locked in a more natural, passionate embrace. As their lips melded together, his whiskey-flavored lips meeting her cherry ones, a surge of anticipation coursed through them. Amidst the faint countdown from Bianca and another student, the surrounding sniggering served as a backdrop to their shared moment. Fuck.

Tom pulled back, his eyes wide with embarrassment and his cheeks as red as blood. Noelle also seemed slightly surprised, her eyes sticking to his as they sat frozen in place. Josh's voice broke them out of the trance, “Seems that wasn’t such a bad dare after all,“

“Shut up,” Noelle murmured while taking a swig of her drink, hoping the bitterness would wash away the arousing taste of Tom from her lips.

[mask-of-prime]

V/T and Even More Tiifu

Was horribly artblocked from writing the plot for the remainder of VG's storyline and had been overcome with sudden Tiifu brainrot out of nowhere at the same time, so I did the only thing that was making me feel better: Ship Art.

You know how Kiara and Kovu are known for their strictly round Pridelander features vs strictly angular Outsider features respectively, or how Simba and Nala seem to contrast with square features and saturated, reddish color scheme vs neutral/greenish colors and smooth, slanted features? Vitani and Tiifu's physical gimmick seems to be contrasting body types lol. From the way I design their definitive adult models, Vitani is underweight with a broad upper body while Tiifu is overweight with narrow shoulders and a curvy lower body.

A revelation I've had the past few days is that I seem to have an easier time drawing round Pridelander characters with a tablet rather than a mouse. I normally just use a mouse at home and only just started getting properly used to drawing with a tablet provided at my school. I'd better start getting used to using a tablet, it's a required industry standard.

Another thing I seem to be experimenting with is this kinda xeroxed look that Silver Age Disney films once had, like that sketchy, barely-erased lineart.

Top left is referenced from this lovely cat picture sent to me, and the bottom right takes inspiration from those videos of people squishing animals' faces when getting really into petting them lol (like this for example)

Other illustrations include sketches of expressions Tiifu is least likely to show, a fullbody sketch showing her (lowkey medicine cat-like) hunting party healer attire, with a quadruped-accessible pouch crafted by none other than Makini.

Lastly, on the top right is a cold-ridden Vitani (this one is a visual I often get -- no matter what comfort character -- when I feel immensely stressed or upset. Thinking about it now and I'm wondering if a hurt/comfort visual like that might stem from the fact that I wish stress was visible like being sick was, and secretly wishing for that attention and babying if someone were to notice)

[flimflamfandom]

Flimflamuniverse Character Breakdown!

Have you ever been reading one of my fics and asked something like-

"Whaddya MEAN Freckle has an accent?"

"Why do they end up in Hollywood?"

"Who's Rocky dating, anyway!?"

Well WONDER NO MORE! This post is the comprehensive list for all yer Flimflamfandom character quirk questions!

Essentially all of the changes are character based, but we will be talking about slight setting differences as well.

Let's dive in!

THE SETTING:

Most of the setting is exactly the same - late 20s St. Louis!

HOWEVER -

During later period stuff (anything from 1929 onward) several of the characters have taken up roots and gone to Hollywood! This has to do with various career moves that take place over the duration of the AU

Significant parts of Calvin's story now take place in Cork, Ireland - this will be explained more in depth later.

IT SHOULD BE NOTED that by the time my AU takes place, the Daisy has picked up significantly in business.

THE CHARACTERS:

It's important to note that NONE OF THE CHARACTERS' CRIMINAL ATTRIBUTES WERE REVEALED UNTIL AROUND THE MID 70S, and by then, the shock and horror of this sort of thing were replaced with fascination.

CALVIN MCMURRAY:

1909-1939

Calvin's childhood is the same, up until the nebulous "incident" that gets Rocky kicked out of home. Because of this, Nina gets a bit spooked, and sends Calvin to finish his basic schooling in County Cork, Ireland. He completes his schooling, and comes back home just in time for the "event" at the police academy.

During his time at the Daisy, Calvin becomes very interested in writing, and begins writing for the Times Dispatch about baseball games. He eventually begins writing screenplays when he moves with Ivy to California. He writes 3 novels, 2 short story collections, and 3 books of poems, on top of 4 screenplays. He's a busy guy!

Unfortunately, sometime around 1936, he develops a form of tail cancer. He dies in 1939, just 10 days shy of his 30th birthday.

QUIRKS: -Calvin has an accent! He's a cork boy. He sounds like a Cork boy. -By the time of his death, Calvin has a son, named Finn.

IVY PEPPER:

1909-1999

Ivy's childhood and such don't change much at all. 'Cept a secret that has to do with Mitzi, but shh! It's a secret!

Ivy is majoring in mathematics at college, and she's MAJORING majoring in it. her specialty seems to be advanced algebra - ring theory, nonlinear algebra, stuff like that. She slowly starts to see herself doing less and less in the field, but she always keeps an interest in it, attends conferences, etc.

The thing that REALLY interests Ivy, though, is her theater course. She takes one as an arts credit and LOVES it! She turns out to be kind of a prodigy on stage! She does some more acting here and there, and happens to meet a producer of films in 1929, after she's changed names to Ivy McMurray. She drags Calvin out to Hollywood with her, and stars in at least a dozen films, winning awards for quite a few of them!

By her retirement from acting in the 1960s, (her last picture netted her an award, by the way) she began to help get all of her old things from the Daisy together, and turn them into a museum, called the Daisy Club Museum. She helped run and fund the museum until her death in 1999, just 2 weeks into the age of 90.

QUIRKS: -Won 5 Oscars - 3 best supporting, 2 best actress. -Contributed her skills and research to at least 3 Algebra textbooks, -Never remarried after Calvin - she was quoted as saying "He'll love me when I get where he is, too."

ROCKY RICKABY:

1904-1989

Rocky's time at the Daisy is marred by his failed romances. He swears he must be the most unlovable person on earth! In the AU, I used to have an OC set aside for him, but nowadays I keep it vague and just say he has a wife and kids. ANYHOW, after the Daisy, Rocky manages to recover a tad from his head wound, and, get this - became a comedian. He even had a circuit of all the speakeasies.

Rocky did need a job after all of that though, and ended up, eventually, in broadcasting, which turned into being a comedian, which turned into his own radio show, which turned into a television show in the early days of TV. Rocky moved out to Hollywood and accidentally bought the house right next to Ivy and Calvin's.

A man with a good reputation, even AFTER it came out that he was a serious gangster, Rickaby died peacefully in 1989, at the age of 85.

QUIRKS: -Rocky was a staunch civil rights, woman's rights, and gay rights activist up until the very end. This would often get him in trouble with networks and producers. -Really liked the Beatles when they crossed over to the US -There is a very persistent rumor that he was in the OSS during World War 2 - in fact, he was not, but he did do work for the Signal Corps making mildly funny training films.

MITZI MAY:

?-1980

Little is known of her childhood, or her adolescence before the Daisy.

Plenty is known AFTER it though!

Mitzi, unlike the others, was not headed for entertainment afterwards. She, instead, lived with Sedgewick Sable, and indeed remarried, but never took his last name. As the pressure from the depression started to ease, she managed to turn all that Daisy property (and all of the hidden away stash money) into a hotel! Mitzi became an incredibly successful hotelier, owning and helping to operate no less than 5 luxury hotels by 1956.

By 1970, she had gotten in touch with Ivy Pepper again, and asked about the Daisy Club Museum - she was instrumental in getting it started, as she still sorta owned the caves down there. She had the diea of making it a living history museum, and she also had the idea of making it like a sort of themed resort.

She died in her sleep in 1980. No one was precisely sure of her age.

QUIRKS: -No one really knows her age -She has a secret about Ivy that she's never told a soul, and it went with her to her grave -Mitzi had one known child by Sedgewick Sable - Minerva, born in 1934. Minerva became a costumer.

SEDGEWICK SABLE:

1895-1985

After the depression hit, Sable was distraught and destitu-JUST KIDDING, that paranoid buffoon hid cash in the walls. The WALLS, I tell you! It wasn't a ton, though, and they coasted by until the New Deal came around.

Work projects need work materials, and Wick was able to help provide them. With a new purpose, new drive, and tons of resources, Wick managed to get the company going again, renaming it to Sable Construction Materials, later just SCM. He even had to buy 3 Lake Freighters - the company still operates lake freighters today!

At the age of 90, Wick passed away in his sleep.

QUIRKS: -While Wick and Calvin were never close, both were HUGE baseball fans - Wick was obsessed with the Red Sox. -Wick was a surprisingly involved boss - most employees knew him personally.

MORDECAI HELLER:

1899-1983

At some point, Mordecai returned to the Daisy, to work with Calvin McMurray as a 'fix it' man. Mordecai admired the work, and stayed put until the place stopped being illegal.

After bouncing from job to job, thinking he would end up back in organized crime, Mordecai settled down in New York after finding out the man who wanted him dead had been killed in a car accident. Mordecai became an accountant and theater manager on Broadway - not a STAGE manager, mind you, just the guy who runs the theater. He really quite liked the work!

Mordecai Heller died in 1983 at the age of 84, of lung cancer.

QUIRKS: -Mordecai was a homosexual, and was well known as such. -Mordecai, a seemingly ice hearted man, actually kinda liked musicals...well. Good ones, anyway. -His least favorite show up there was Seesaw. His favorite was Pacific Overtures

VIKTOR VASKO:

1886-1978

After the Daisy became a legal operation, Viktor just...kept working there. You still need someone to lift boxes and tend a bar when it's legal, too! Viktor was actually a loyal employee of Mitzi until 1943, when he left to run a construction firm in St. Louis. He did that, and had a fairly uneventful life, dying in 1978 at the age of 92.

QUIRKS: -Viktor never remarried - but he did reconnect with his wife and daughter sometime in 1935. -Viktor's daughter went on to become a famous operatic soprano, and even served at the Met for a time. -Viktor never outed any of his former associates, even when talks of the Daisy Museum were beginning. He refused, worrying that he'd sully people's reputations.

DORIAN ZIBOWSKI:

?-1954

After the depression, it became harder for clubs to keep full time musicians. Zib was still at the Daisy until about 1932. Fortunately for him, in 1933, his old...work acquaintance? Rocky was running a radio show out of Los Angeles and was asked to help find a band leader.

After a brief stint on this show, Zib began to lead bands at the cutting edge of Jazz music - he considered becomeing an academic, but he never found the time to think too hard about the option.

A lifetime of smoking and drinking caught up to him fiercely, and he died of Lung Cancer in 1954.

QUIRKS: -He's still made outta triangles! -Zib learned to play every saxophone, and every reed instrument he could get his hands on. -Zib's final record was a live recording at the Pershing Lounge in Chicago, Illinois, 4 years before Ahmad Jamal made it famous.

THE SAVOYS:

Nico: 1900-1978 Serafine: 1902-1983

Little is known of the Savoys after their return to Louisiana in 1931. Some say Nico got back into boxing, or that Serafine was responsible for a rash of killings.

The two died peacefully in their homes, and lived to perfectly normal old ages...and yet, it seemed so suspicious when Nico died. He was just...on his back porch. With a note that was written in code...

QUIRKS: -Nico did, in fact, go back into boxing, but left for professional wrestling - the fictional kind. Serafine was, for a time, a voodoo practitioner for hire, who was well regarded in her community -Neither married, but both had several relationships

THE ARBOGASTS:

Abelard: 1886-1987 Bobby: 1898-1975 Elsa: 1900-1975

The Arbogasts lead a quiet, mostly obscure life, save for Abelard, who becomes quite the lit up theologian. He starts a cult in the woods of Missouri, and is found dead after his 101st birthday. The cult, as many do after a leader dies, fell into disarray and eventually splintered.

Bobby and Elsa dropped the funeral routine and moved closer to the city - Bobby became a school teacher and Elsa became a nurse. The two died months apart in 1975.

QUIRKS: -Elsa and Bobby were just about as in love with each other as Calvin and Ivy. -Bobby had severe PTSD from the war, and would often have episodes. Elsa hated seeing him that way, but helped him. -Abelard's Cult, "the new Thinkers", was bizarrely peaceful as cults are concerned. They never ate Fish, though...

LACY HARDT:

1904-1994

Lacy was a loyal employee of Sedgewick Sable for the first year after the depression. Eventually, though, she married Arthur Keane (an OC you can read about here), a guitarist, and moved with him to his hometown of Virginia Beach. There, she lived with him as an assistant to many prominent locals.

Eventually, the two moved again, back to Peoria, to take care of Lacy's ailing mother. This was around 1934. After Lacy's mother passed in 35, she was distraught. So, she decided to find a new hobby - writing and illustrating children's books. She got onto the idea after a phone call with Ivy, who handed over Calvin's agent's information.

When she retired, Lacy moved back to Virginia Beach with Arthur, who died a year before she did. QUIRKS -Lacy won a Caldecott Medal, and displayed it in her home office until her death -Until after her death, it was kept a secret by the McMurray family that Lacy, who was close with them, had been writing Finn (Calvin's son) notes as Mrs. Claus, as well as little stories, which eventually became her 'Rudy Sees the World' books.

THAT'S ALL I'M WRITING FOR NOW!

Again, pretty much all the changes are to the characters - the setting is, for the most part, untouched! I will be writing more about the AU when I get the chance, though!

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

yall once this kid hits high school his innocence is gonna be GONE 😭

part four

❝ DREAM SCHOOL ❞

SUNDAY — JULY 15 — 4:28PM

“IS REDWOOD ACADEMY YOUR DREAM SCHOOL?”

Bentley, Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Asten were huddled around the kitchen island not two hours after the school was mentioned, Bentley’s laptop sitting open on the countertop to the Redwood Academy website. They’d been tearing apart the webpage for at least an hour now, picking out every detail they could find, and had just stumbled upon an so called introductory video that Dick insisted they play.

Sunny drone shots of the (very nice) campus came and went from the screen for a few moments, with soft but happy music playing over top, and faded to a red-haired lady in a black pencil dress walking down the campus sidewalks. She had a nearly infectious smile on her face, and all the colors around her, like the sky and the grass, were bright and happy. “I’m headmistress Donna McCall, and I’m thrilled you’ve stopped by our website!” She chided.

“Oh, yeah. Thrilled,” Jason muttered. (He’d been skeptical and quiet the whole time Bentley had been telling them about the school. Most people would think he was concerned, but Bentley thought that, maybe, just maybe, Jason didn’t want them to leave.)

(He had been at the Manor a lot more than he used to. Like, literally almost every day. For a while.)

The video cut back to aerial videos of the campus. Redwood Academy was massive, comprised of what looked like over a dozen buildings that were built with an almost castle-like architecture. Bentley had seen places like Wayne Manor and Drake Manor and Whittaker Estate, but not even those places compared to the school. “Welcome to Redwood Academy; A year-round boarding school that offers a high-end education to metahumans all the way from grades pre-k-through-twelfth — without the stress, anxiety, or bullying that comes along with being a metahuman in other schooling institutions.”

The video cut to a shot of several perfectly manicured soccer fields, with what looked like tennis fields in the background. (Or maybe not tennis. Bentley didn’t know much about sports.) “The Redwood Academy Campus covers over one thousand acres of Manhattan, New York City, with a view of the water and a clear sightline to the coasts of New Jersey.”

Bentley blinked as it cut to another very bright video of the redhead woman, who was now walking in front of one of the big castle-like buildings with her blinding smile and excited as ever persona. (Didn’t Vera say she was friends with this woman’s niece or something?) “Redwood Academy offers over two-hundred-fifty interactive, unique, in-classroom courses that can be chosen to fit your child’s interests, including over thirty unique fine arts classes. With well over two hundred teachers and professors working here at Redwood, over two-thirds of them have a PhD in their field and are solely dedicated to watching and helping your children excel.”

“That’s a lot of teachers. This place seems huge,” Dick commented, leaning closer to the computer.

Bentley nodded in response. “It looks huge.”

“Here at Redwood, we want your children to have the fullest school experience they can have, without the negativity that comes with being different,” The video switched to the smiling woman walking on a perfectly pampered football field. “That’s why we offer twenty different team sports, from the commonly-known-and-loved football, to more personable sports like competitive gymnastics and dancing. Each sport offered here at Redwood has its own fully trained coach that will journey through the training seasons with your students and help them to build a family within their teams. Whether they’ve been playing their whole lives or are just starting out, our lovely sports staff are wholly committed to nurturing your child’s mental growth and physical development, while still maintaining the challenging and rewarding nature of sports.”

The scene changed to her in a massive library. The walls and shelves were all a deep wood, with thousands of multicolored books lined on the shelves. There were also massive chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. “Are sports not your child’s favorite? That’s alright! We offer other extracurriculars and clubs as well, ranging from book clubs, mathletes, and scholastic decathlon, to theatre and music clubs, ran by the students and staff alike.”

Bentley scrunched his face up. What the heck was a mathlete?

The shot changed to the woman walking through beautifully wainscotted hallways. “Here at Redwood, your child’s well-being is our first priority. That’s why we have twenty-four hour campus security all seven days of the week, and a fully stocked medical staff prepared to treat everything from a common cold to broken bones. Three square meals a day are served here in our high-end cafeteria, and if your child has allergies or needs special food accommodations, our cooks here will happily supply them with various delicious and nutritious options. There are twelve on-campus counselors who can help to guide your child through life, emotions, and relationships as a metahuman, and we perform routine intruder, fire, and severe weather drills twice a year every year to prepare your child to keep calm and stay safe in emergency situations.”  

Asten breathed in and out. “She is way too happy about school. Like, why is she smiling like that?”

“Undoubtedly, one of the toughest parts of school for your youngsters is making friends and finding their built-in-family. That’s why our campus offers apartment-style dormitories that house eight students each,” The video cut to a pan of what looked like a living room, with two doors on the left and two doors on the right. “If your student is eleven or older, they will share a bedroom with one roommate, which you can choose when you register! Don’t know anybody here? Fill out a survey at registration and we’ll choose a roommate for them based on age and personality. And as always, to prevent stress, roommates can always be changed once the school year starts. if your child needs specific sleeping accommodations, whether that be due to medical conditions, their metahuman powers, or something else, we will happily accommodate them no matter the circumstance.”

Bentley hummed. He guessed he pretty much had a built in roommate with Asten.

“Each bedroom has its own, full en-suite bathroom to prevent sickness or undue illness from spreading,” The camera showed a bedroom with a set of bunk-beds, two wardrobes, and two desks. “Your student will share a small living and commons area with three other pairs of roommates, who will also be paired with your child based on age range and personality.  If your child is ten or younger, they will stay in a separate building with qualified caretakers, individual bedrooms, and a large community bathroom.”

The scene cut to the redhead woman sitting at a massive wooden desk. “Our mission here at Redwood Academy is to equip metahuman children and young adults to usher in the future they wish to achieve, and provide them the education and support they need that may not be provided by typical school systems. Many staff members, including myself, are here year-round for students who may not want or can’t afford to return home for times like holidays or summer break.”

She woman leaned forward slightly, propping an elbow on the desk with a smile and sparkle of her green eyes. “We never want to deny a child an opportunity at a great school and life experience. That’s why, if you can’t afford tuition, Redwood Academy has over four dozen local and international sponsors that would be more than happy to sponsor your child year by year, for as long as you need. Make sure to fill out the corresponding tuition form at registration and we’ll get applications out for your child as soon as possible. All registration forms for this school year must be submitted, either online or in person, before July twentieth to enroll your student this year. You can find registration forms at the bottom of our website.”

She smiled brightly, contagiously.

“If you have any further questions, you can email or call us at the email and number listed on the website. If you wish to request a campus tour, meet a few teachers, or speak to graduates, please visit the explore our campuslink at the bottom of our website. I’m headmistress Donna McCall, Thank you so much for choosing Redwood.”

And the video faded to black.

“Well, I’m sold. NYC here I come,” Asten stated, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. “When do we leave?”

Jason scoffed, glancing over at him. “Really? Just like that?”

Asten stared, deadpanned. “You’re asking me if I’d rather be in Gotham or Manhattan.”

Bruce’s hand found Bentley’s back and rubbed it a little. “What’re you thinking, chum?”

Bentley shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, it sounds pretty cool. And it would be nice to go somewhere else for a while.”

“I think that would be great for you two! Meet new people, try new things. It’s perfect for your first year of high school,” Dick explained, reaching over in both directions and ruffling both Bentley and Asten’s hair. Bentley chuckled, but Asten scoffed and tried to push him off.

“I’m sixteen and a freshman. Isn’t that kind of embarrassing?” Asten questioned.

“Not unless you make it embarrassing,” Jason replied. “If you don’t make a big deal of it, no one will care.”

“And you’ll get to know other kids with superpowers! I think it sounds great,” Dick said with a smile, his arm finding its way around Bentley’s shoulders.

“I think you’re more excited than they are,” Jason shot back, smirking at him.

Bruce hummed, and everyone turned to look at him. He was still looking at the computer with a bunch of tabs pulled up.

“All of the resources and links point to it being an actual institution. There have been a bunch of graduates over the past few years. But here’s the important question,”

Both Asten and Bentley peered over at him.

“If this is the route we’re going, are you actually prepared to be in Manhattan alone? That’s over a two and a half hour drive from Gotham,”

“Yes,” Was Asten’s immediate answer.

Bentley glanced down at his socked feet. He hadn’t really been alone alone since, well, his father, he guessed. But that still hadn’t been alone. He supposed he was alone when he was missing, too, but he had a sneaking suspicion that didn’t count.

He really hadn’t been without an adult before. Or at least a family member.

Was he ready to do that for a whole school year?

Bentley glanced up, and cleared his throat when he realized all eyes were on him. 

“I mean…” He started, blinking at the computer screen that had statistics about the school on it. “I’m almost fourteen. With Asten there I should be fine.”

Bruce nodded. “But is it something you want to do? Because we can get you into a school closer, if public is what you want.”

Bentley didn’t speak for a moment. 

“Why don’t we do this,” Bruce suggested, closing the tabs on the laptop. “I’ll run some threat tests on the school and its staff on the Batcomputer. If it comes back green, and you decide it’s really something worth looking into, then we can talk about maybe going down for a campus tour.”

“Registration has to be done within the next five days,” Asten pointed out.

Bruce shrugged. “I guess we better hurry, then. I’ll be in the cave.”

Bruce moved from behind the kitchen island, and Bentley breathed in and out, looking at the posh dark green and gold decorated website.

Was leaving for Manhattan really what he wanted to do?

—

SUNDAY — JULY 15 — 8:13PM

“Manhattan? Seriously? That’s so cool,” Nico exclaimed from the other end of Bentley’s phone. “I’d love to go to Manhattan.”

Bentley and Asten were both against the headboard of Asten’s bed, playing some hardcore survival Minecraft on his PlayStation. (Aka the only game ever that Bentley was actually sort of okay at.) All of the lights were cut off besides the strip of LEDs that were glowing blue where the ceiling met the walls. 

Bentley’s phone was propped up near their feet by a pillow, and Nico’s face was on it. He was on his bed, too, and judging by the reflection in his eyes and funny faces he kept making, he seemed to be watching tv. 

He was fourteen, and if he were in Gotham, would probably be taller than Bentley and maybe even Damian by now. He’d gotten a haircut to make his hair go upwards instead of downwards, and was going into his freshman year of homeschooling. He also had something no one else had.

A girlfriend.

Which Bentley and Asten didn’t know much about, if they were honest. All Bentley knew was that her name was Delainey. That was literally it. He hadn’t even seen pictures of her.

“Yeah. We aren’t sure if we’re going yet or not,” Bentley replied, placing a few blocks on the game. (Asten was so much faster than him.)

“He means he isn’t sure if he’s going. I’m getting myself out of Gotham,” Asten butted in. Nico snickered at him.

“Yeah. Honestly, Gothams kind of sad,”

Bentley snickered, and Asten nodded. “You’re not wrong.”

“Oh, guess what? Barry taught me how to phase through stuff the other day. Then he got all jealous because it took him way longer than me to get the hang of it,” Nico explained proudly, smiling down at the camera momentarily. “And I- oh, Lainey’s calling me. Gotta go. Talk to you later!”

Before Asten or Bentley could respond, Nico hung up.

Asten shook his head. “He’s obsessed with her.”

“He is,” Bentley agreed. He would by lying if he said he didn’t find it strange that Nico already had a girlfriend. He was only one year older than Bentley, after all. But then again, Bentley was pretty new to all this normal life stuff anyways. Do all boys his age have girlfriends?

Clearly Asten didn’t, and Damian didn’t. Not even Duke or Tim or Jason or Dick did. (Okay, well, maybe Dick did. It wasn’t exactly official and all that, Bentley didn’t think, but the way he and Babs looked at each other was a little telling.) 

He decided to ignore it. If he was supposed to, someone would tell him. Right? Yeah. Surely they would.

Not five minutes later, someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Asten called.

The door swung open, and the hallway light was blindingly bright in the dark room. The silhouette standing in the doorway was none other than Bruce, but Bentley hadn’t really expected anyone different — most of the Wayne’s didn’t knock.

“Hey,” He started, stepping inside, glancing at the screen on his entry. “I finished the scans on the Batcomputer.”

Both Asten and Bentley broke their gazes away from the game to look at him, instead. (He was still wearing the pajama pants, which Bentley thought was funny.)

“And?” Asten inquired.

Bruce took a few steps and sat down on the end of the bed. “And everything came back green. It has a very low threat level, almost nonexistent.”

Bentley sat up a little straighter, laying his controller to the side. That meant the school was safe?

“Let’s talk about if you actually want to go or not,” Bruce said, and Asten laid his controller down, too. “You’ll be in Manhattan for almost ten months, without any of us.”

“B, I’ve been in since we started talking about this,” Asten said with a soft smirk. 

Bruce’s icy irises flicked to Bentley. “What about you?”

Bentley blinked.

Okay, so, yeah. Moving to New York City for an entire school year was a big decision for a kid who was pretty sure he had developed some kind of attachment issues to at least two thirds of the Wayne’s. And it was even bigger for a kid who’d never been out of Drew or Gotham, and still had panic attacks when a glass broke, and still didn’t know the fundamentals of life, like when he was supposed to have a girlfriend, but…

He kinda really wanted to.

Don’t get him wrong — he loved the Manor and his family, and leaving that for so long would probably be a little hard. But, the chance to have another attempt at making friends, being able to get out of the Manor, and Gotham all together, was pretty enticing. Plus it just sounded… Y’know. Fun, going off somewhere for high school with a bunch of other kids.

Bentley breathed in and out, and both Bruce and Asten were staring at him, awaiting his answer.

“It’ll be different, but… yeah. I think I want to go,”

Bruce smiled lightly, then nodded, pulling himself off the bed and moving for the door. “Alright. If that’s your answer, I’ll call the headmistress and get a tour set up, then.”

Bentley and Asten smiled, one a bit more sheepish than the other.

“Love you,” Bruce called behind him as he left.

“Love you,” They replied in unison.

The door closed, and the room was dark again, with LED lights and Minecraft on full display.

Bentley was basically moving to Manhattan. (What?)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[cantdanceflynn]

Riddle School Secret Exchange

From @riddletransfers exchange, a gift of writing for @itissadbutitsmy-life! Im sry, I was gonna have art to go along with it and i dont think its rly up to my standards life just kicks u in the ass yk? (warning for mentions of panic attacks, trauma, and implied canon complient police brutality(I based it off of my shit school so i hope this isn't like, pushing too far))

It always came back to school, didn't it. If Phil had the option, he would have asked his parents to be homeschooled the day after Quiz died.

But no one else could've either, and somehow, he didn't think it'd help to still have those memories and be isolated from his friends to boot.

Days like these though... Slumping over a desk hoping he could remember anything made him wonder if it would've been better. At least he could've used the same resources as the teachers.

He didn't know anyone in this class, so chances of him borrowing notes was admittedly slim. The class itself, chemistry, wasn't hard in and of itself. Mostly he just copied people's answers to labs and tried to remember enough for the tests. But the teacher requiring constant notes was a pain in the ass, to say the least.

But even if chemistry sucked, and did it ever, Phil could appreciate it for one thing. He could spend this whole class excited for the next one, every day, for forever.

Not that he was particularly excited to do math worksheets for an hour and a half, no. He was excited because it was the only class he had with all of his friends this year.

And to top it all off, the teacher didn't seem to give a shit about what happened as long as the work got done. The only thing they'd ever been told not to do was roast marshmallows over Zach's head, and that was because they set off the fire alarm. She probably wouldn't even notice if they did it again.

Thick as thieves was putting it lightly, and it was probably the only reason Phil understood why teachers assigned group projects themselves instead of letting people chat all class. So maybe chemistry felt like forever, but right afterwards he could chill with his friends and talk about their days and help each other out.

That last one happened more often than not lately. For some inane reason, their school had an extra cop assigned to it. Because kids needed to watch out for more dangerous people, obviously.

It probably wouldn't even have made them worry so much if the bastard didn't decide to wear shades and pretend he was an FBI agent or whatever he wanted to be. They'd seen the real deal and this wasn't it, but it looked close enough to freak them out.

Phred was actually the first one to break last week, hyperventilating into his hands before Smiley ran out to get a paper bag. Phil still didn't know all that had happened, but the cop presumably decided the kid was suspicious for being nervous around him, as if anyone didn't understand why.

A bunch of stutters and sobs and rants later, there were four submitted worksheets, two with Smiley's handwriting, and they had implicit permission to walk Phred down to the councilors office. They stayed there for the rest of the day, helping him work through memories anybody who wasn't present wouldn't believe if their life depended on it.

This kind of thing wasn't uncommon, even before more and more triggers started popping up. Phil still didn't know if triggers was the right word for it, but the probability of finding a therapist that believed any of them was slim to none, so he figured it didn't really matter.

Sure, he could dwell on everything that had happened all he wanted. Wonder what the hell had happened on the government side of things, if they were spared or if they just didn't bother tracking them down, or if something else happened. Either way it would be his fault.

Really, it was all his fault. It overwhelmed him sometimes, with the constant reminder that every panic attack and flinch was his fault. Like the story he didn't really read for English or whatever, with the heart the lady could always hear or feel beating.

But his guilt dragged theirs down, much as the pressure of the tiled hallways. Maybe he should be a poet. He'd have plenty of out there material, that's for sure.

Class bell autopilot must've kicked in, because Phil didn't even realize he was sitting in his usual seat until Phred tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yup, we're dealing with a zombie here," he announced in a deadpan voice. "Someone take him to the nurse and let's see if cough drops can bring back the dead."

"Hey!" Smiley punched Phred's shoulder, but she was grinning and so was Zach. Phil loved to "admit" it, their smiles were infectious.

"Eh, there we go." Zach flicked his face and raised an eyebrow in humor when Phil flinched. The humor was quickly replaced by sputtered indignancies as Phil covered his face with a hand.

"That's what you ge-!" Phil's retort was stopped by Zach licking his hand, giggling as Phil shook said hand desperately. "Grosssss....."

Smiley laughed. "Hey, you spoke! Took long enough." Her light hearted teasing was only punctuated by how she was practically plowing through her worksheets. She got given them all at once at this point, her boundless enthusiasm adding to the notes the teachers inevitably had for her.

Like all of them, she was far from a joy to have in class. Constantly correcting the teacher came at a cost, as it turned out. But unlike the rest of them, she could at least do her work nigh perfectly.

"Still can't convince you to do my work?" Phil jokingly questioned.

"Nope! Gotta earn it, silly!" She hummed back as she worked, scribbling down a correction on the teacher's formatting with a disapproving click of her tongue.

Phred rolled his eyes, but he actually started before the rest of them. So much for ambitionless, Phil supposed. He wasn't heading for top of the class or anything, but he had motivation now. Weird as it felt to him, him of all people, there was a twinge of pride in Phil's chest.

He stuck his tongue back out Zach before starting his work. Zach huffed and started too. As the sound of pencils scribbling filled their corner, one thought filled Phil's head.

He was so, so lucky to be in a real, oppressing as it might be, school, with them all, this time.

sry again if this isn't very goodddd

[toast-tales]

A Draconic Demonstration

[Malleus Draconia Vore]

Cover art by @smolcinnamonchipmunk

After eating a suspicious treat in Ramshackle, you find yourself shrunk down to a few mere inches. You can think of one person...well, fae, who could help you. But after learning more about their “true form,” you wonder if you’ve gotten yourself into an even stickier situation. ~4900 words.

Contains: language, soft, safe, g/t vore, a flustered Yuu, more than a few gratuitous mentions of fangs-

* * * * * * * * * *

In hindsight, you probably should have been a little suspicious of the cookies that had “eat me” written on them with pink icing, but you were hungry. 

Now, at about three inches tall and standing on Ramshackle’s kitchen table next to the offending cookies, hunger was the least of your worries.

Seriously though, how had this happened? Crowley had brought you this basket of groceries himself. The vegetables and bread looked harmless enough. Sure, the cookies stood out a bit, but would Crowley be so careless as to get your groceries mixed up with food that could shrink you down to the size of someone’s finger? 

Nope, scratch that. He definitely would. 

You sighed. Now wasn’t the time to lay blame or point fingers—that would have to come later (and it would). You needed to figure out how to get back to your original size as soon as possible. You couldn’t get off this table without meeting an unseemly end splattered on the floor, and there was no one in Ramshackle who could help—Grim was staying over at Ace and Deuce’s for an all-night video game extravaganza (without their housewarden’s knowledge, of course), and you had foolishly declined, as potentially angering Riddle again wasn’t at the top of your to-do list. 

There were the ghosts, but they couldn’t leave Ramshackle, and to your knowledge, they didn’t have any magical abilities that would help. Plus, if you brought too much attention to your current predicament, you were worried they would just use it as an opportunity to prank you.

The list of comrades who could potentially help you was growing depressingly short as you ran through it in your head. Deuce, while dependable, would more likely drop a cauldron on your head accidentally than successfully get you back to your normal size. Azul would probably find a solution, if he was motivated enough by the contract he’d no doubt whip up for you to sign. Crowley…well, he had a propensity for getting students to do his dirty work instead. He’d be more likely to hide you in a box somewhere to protect the school’s sterling reputation until a solution was found. Not to mention the complete lack of effort he’d put into finding a way for you to get back home—magnanimous mage, indeed. 

By pure luck, you had left your cell phone on the table, facing screen-side up. It was a bit of a hassle to press the power button and run back to input the four-digit passcode with your tiny hands, but after one failed attempt you got in. You went to your contacts and started scrolling through, but none of the names stood out as being exceptionally helpful at the moment. You were about to resign yourself to texting Ace and Deuce—at the very least, they could bring you to someone who could help—when you scrolled to one of the most recently added numbers, and you remembered.

You did know someone who had the magical capability to help, and most likely would—without any strings or ulterior motives attached. Probably. 

The number you had inputted in your phone for Malleus Draconia wasn’t connected to a real phone. Frankly, you didn’t understand all the technomancy jumble Lilia had bombarded you with when you asked how it worked, but you got the gist of it—a text to this number would translate into a magical message delivered to its intended recipient—in this case, Malleus. Lilia had decided that finding a way to use technomancy to translate radio waves into magic (which he’d apparently done with help from one of his “online buddies”) would be easier than teaching Malleus how to use a phone, and they were very eager to do so once you had suggested that it would be easier to invite Malleus to things if you could text him like everyone else. This was close enough, though you hadn’t tried it yet. You weren’t even sure if Lilia had told Malleus about it.

I guess now’s as good a time as any, you thought. You wondered how it worked—did the words float up in front of his face? Would it be some sort of text-to-speech situation? You’d heard about messaging spells a few times in class, but didn’t have any experience with them. 

With some effort, you typed in a message to send to Malleus—putting in the extra effort to spell all the words out completely, just in case.

please come to ramshackle, i need your help -yuu

You hit “send” and watched the “received” checkmark appear next to the text. Almost immediately, the word “received” changed to “read.” Huh. I guess that means it worked? 

You wondered if Malleus could even reply to the text—maybe he could send a magical message that would translate to a text? Had Lilia thought that far ahead? You didn’t have much time to wonder, though, as your thoughts were interrupted by a CRASH of what sounded like thunder right outside the front door. It spooked you so bad you fell backwards onto the table, heart pounding loudly in your chest. There was a flash of greenish light you could see through the windows. 

Holy shit, is that—

The front door flew open to reveal the huge, imposing figure of your fae friend, his green eyes widened with shock as he hurriedly took in the scene before him, as if scanning for danger. His eyes fell on the basket of food on the table and then, finally, on you. You gave him a sheepish wave—maybe you should have toned down the urgency in the text you sent. 

“Hi there, Malleus. Thanks for coming.”

A few moments passed as the fae’s expression turned to one of puzzlement. He looked down at the doorway for a second before slowly, deliberately crossing the threshold, ducking slightly to avoid hitting the large black horns on his head. “Child of man? Is that you?”

You nodded as he knelt down slightly next to the table, his cat-like, vivid green pupils at eye level with yours. “Sorry for bothering you, but uh…you were the first one I thought of who could help me with…this,” you said, gesturing to yourself. 

“There’s no need to apologize. Though your message may have…startled me a bit, I appreciate your invitation.” He grinned, flashing his sharp, white fangs. His deep voice, so close to you now, rumbled softly in your ears. “Would that it were under better circumstances. Now, could you explain what happened?”

You began your admittedly short retelling of how you’d taken a bite of the suspicious cookie, hoping the fae wouldn’t laugh at your seeming lack of common sense. To your surprise, he listened intently with a serious expression on his face, only showing a hint of irritation when you mentioned that it had been Crowley who had given you the basket of food. 

“Tch. That fool,” Malleus muttered darkly. “So careless with the safety of his students. You could have easily suffered a much worse fate had you not been able to contact me. It’s clear that I need to have a…discussion with the headmage on the matter.”

Malleus stood up, and small orbs of green light started to appear around him, floating through the air like fiery dust motes. You could sense a faint crackle of electricity in the air, making the hairs on your arm stand on end.

“Woah woah wait—” you said hastily, as it seemed Malleus was planning on whisking himself away to Crowley’s office right then and there. “It’s…kind of late. I can talk with him tomorrow morning.” As much as he exasperated you at times, you certainly didn’t want Crowley being reduced to a pile of ash over this.

The green magic disappeared from the air as Malleus let out a small hmph, turning his attention toward you again. “As you wish, little human.” His bright eyes were sharp and cold—this clearly seemed to have irritated him more than you were expecting—but they softened as they met yours again. 

“So…” you began, slightly nervous now, “is this something you can fix? Like, is it some kind of curse, or…”

Malleus focused his stare and waved his hand slowly over you and the half-eaten cookie behind you. Green sparks flickered faintly at the tips of his gloved fingers. “It is nothing so complex. It seems to be someone’s unique magic, imbued into the food. Likely some sort of prank.”

Unique magic. What kind of unique magic would make size-changing pastries? You briefly thought of Trey, though his unique magic was much different—not to mention he wasn’t the prank-pulling type. For some reason, though, this did feel like something from Heartslabyul—though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. 

“Can you…reverse it?”

Malleus tilted his head to the side, pondering. “I could try, though without understanding the nature of the unique magic, there might be…unintended results, at least without thorough preparation. It would be best to find the person who cast the spell, and have them undo it.” He knelt down beside the table again, his large eyes almost overwhelming as they regarded you somewhat curiously. “Are you sure you wish to wait until tomorrow to speak to the headmage?” 

You tore your own eyes away to glance at the grandfather clock behind Malleus. It was nearly midnight—no doubt the headmage was fast asleep anyways. Waking him up now would probably not yield the best problem-solving attitude. “Yeah. I think that would be best. I can wait until tomorrow.”

Malleus nodded slowly, though his brow creased with concern. “Be that as it may, I can’t say I feel comfortable leaving you here alone in such a state. Not to mention, your kitchen table seems a less than ideal place to spend the night.” A thoughtful look came upon his face before he smiled, though coupled with his slightly narrowed eyes and a hint of his protruding fangs, it made you slightly nervous—though you weren’t sure why. “I think it would be best if you stayed in my dorm for tonight.”

I agree, you thought, though you had to admit that the idea made you a bit flustered. While you were on rather friendly terms with the fae, Malleus was always someone who felt just out of reach, like he existed on some other level of reality altogether at times. He was beautiful, but in a way that felt otherworldly and distant. He would appear and disappear at seemingly random times—which is why his invitation for you to spend the night in his room was such a strange, but very appealing offer, even if it was at your current size. 

You realized you’d been staring at his face for just a bit too long. “Y-yeah,” you stuttered, willing the blush to disappear from your cheeks, “that would be good.”

He placed a gloved hand on the table in front of you, palm-side up, and looked at you expectantly. Heart thumping wildly in your chest, you slowly stepped onto his hand, sitting on the cold black leather. His long fingers curled gently around you, protectively, as he held you against his chest. This was, by far, the closest you’d ever been to the fae, and it did nothing to help your rapid pulse. 

Malleus looked down at you, smiling in that strange way he often did that was somewhere between friendly and mischievous. “You may want to close your eyes, little human.”

You obeyed immediately as you felt your hair stand on end again and heard a sharp CRASH sound, but much louder this time. There was a strange sensation of weightlessness for a split second before you felt solid again, and the electricity dispersed from the air. 

“You may open them now,” chuckled Malleus.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and took in the sight of what you assumed must be Malleus’s dorm room. It was rather dark and dungeonesque, what with the tile floors and dark brick walls, but also fairly elegant. A giant four-poster bed, with sheer black curtains draped across it, dominated the middle of the room. You could also make out a small loveseat with dark purple upholstery and elegant black woodwork in front of it, and a—was that a stone, dragon-shaped gargoyle standing in the corner of the room? 

Malleus placed you gently on top of a large black desk next to his bed. A candelabra with tall white candles in it ignited as he approached, the tips dancing with greenish light. It cast a strange glow on the fae’s face, making his features look sharper. 

“Wow…” you said quietly, still a bit dazed as you took everything in. “I uh…I like your room. It’s…big.”

Malleus chuckled. “That is to be expected, with your current…perspective.” He gave you a strange look and laughed to himself, smiling somewhat impishly.

“What?” You could never quite get a read on what the fae was thinking at any given moment. 

“It is nothing,” Malleus said with a smirk. “Just a funny thought.”

You never did have much patience for his cryptic remarks. “Tell me!” you insisted, placing your hands on your hips in a show of mock seriousness. 

Malleus took a seat in the chair in front of you, an amused smile on his face. “Well…it had occurred to me that the current size difference between us was somewhat familiar. In my true form, a regular human might be about as small to me as you are now.”

“True form…wait, you mean…can you actually turn into a dragon?” You’d heard some rumors that implied as much, but hadn’t given them much thought until now. It sounded like the kind of stuff people would make up about the great and terrible Malleus Draconia.

“That is correct,” the fae said, his expression unwavering. 

Well, shit. You’d heard other rumors too, but…

You found your gaze resting on Malleus’s delicate, slightly darkened lips that curled up in a grin, concealing his fangs. You found yourself shivering with unexpected adrenaline, though you still weren’t sure why. You’d never been scared of your friend before, like everyone else seemed to be. While you were never quite sure of him, you could at least be confident he meant no ill will toward you—in fact, there were times (like tonight) where he seemed quite protective of you. 

There was a question you wanted to ask, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer—or what you wanted the answer to be. 

“Is something troubling you, child of man?” Malleus’s placid expression betrayed a hint of concern.

“Did you eat people?” you blurted out, feeling your face go red at the ridiculous question. That had to have been offensive, and why in the world was that the rumor you decided to focus on? 

Malleus’s eyes widened in a curious stare before he gave a full-bellied laugh, his sharp fangs on full display. The noise startled you a bit—not the reaction you were expecting. He folded his arms on the desk and rested his head on top of them, eyeing you with bemusement. “You are a strange human, indeed, asking such a bold question.”

You gulped. “Uh, sorry if that was rude,” you mumbled, though he didn’t seem to be upset.

“Not at all. It was just…unexpected. But to answer your question….” His catlike eyes narrowed as a devilish grin crept up his face. “Yes. Only a few that deserved it.”

“Oh,” you breathed, unsure of how to best respond to this new fact. You became very aware of how close his face was to you now, and how his large, dazzling green eyes were keenly focused on you, studying your reaction. 

“Does this frighten you, child of man?” He sounded almost resigned to the fact, as if your answer couldn’t be anything other than “yes.”

This…made you sad. “You don’t frighten me, Malleus,” you said with certainty. You were feeling lots of things right now, but at least that much was true. “I’m more curious than anything.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re…curious?”

You were not sure things could get much more awkward than they were now anyways. Might as well get it all out there. “Yeah like…what do humans taste like? Can you actually swallow people whole? Does it hurt?”

His eyes widened again with surprise at your questions and you were worried you’d definitely asked way too much. But to your amazement, you did not burst into flames. The fae grinned as he lifted his head slightly, tapping the side of his face with his fingers. “So many questions,” he mused. He appeared to be thinking about something as his gaze averted for a minute before he looked back at you, a sly grin on his face. “I could answer them. Or…” he paused, green light dancing on his skin, “you could give me something in return.”

Welp, this is it, you’ve really done it now. You could feel your breath catch in your throat. “G-give you something?”

“A demonstration,” he replied simply. “You are the perfect size, after all.” 

Oh, fuck. 

“Um…do you mean…” you hoped you were reading his intentions right, but also hoped you were very wrong, “...eating me?”

Malleus tilted his head, his grin now showing his fangs. “How far does your curiosity go, little human?”

You didn’t like that his answer wasn’t no. You felt a chill of fear run up your spine. “Uh, well, I can’t say I’m fond of the idea of dying,” you said, laughing mirthlessly.

Malleus’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement. “Of course not,” he said, tracing a finger in the air. Green sparks appeared around you, teasing the hair on your skin like static electricity. You felt a strange weight settle on you before the feeling vanished. “A simple protection spell is mere child’s play for me.”

Protection spell?

“And, as an added measure—” He traced another pattern in the air, but this time he moved his hand in front of his stomach. You watched as the green sparks formed some sort of sigil midair before sinking beneath his clothes. “—a spell on my end, as well. No harm would come to you. In fact,” he said, tracing his eyes over your tiny body with an expression both doting and devious, “it may be the safest place for you to spend the night.” 

You gulped. It felt like he was closing more and more doors that would have led to your escape from this situation. You could just say no. You probably should just say no, based on the hungry glint in the fae’s eyes. But you couldn’t seem to form the word—every time you tried, you ended up getting sidetracked by the green light glinting off of Malleus’s fangs, the soft curve of his throat, the way his hand rested over his middle almost protectively…

You’re not going to get hurt, so why not? 

Your desire to learn more about the elusive, mysterious fae was winning, and Malleus knew it. Maybe your common sense had shrunk, too.

“Yeah…okay.”

Malleus’s grin deepened. “I hadn’t expected you to agree, I’ll admit. You’re just full of surprises, child of man.” He laughed. “So you will permit me to consume you, and keep you inside of me until the morning?”

It felt like you were signing a contract with Azul, which may have been a less foolhardy thing to do right now. “Y-yes. As long as I’m safe, a-and you let me out tomorrow morning. And then you can help me get back to normal, right?”

He gave you a surprisingly soft smile as he placed a hand gently behind you, stroking your hair with his thumb. “Of course,” he purred, smooth and composed as ever. You felt your legs shaking at the sudden contact, knowing that the uncharacteristic tenderness was just a precursor for what was to come. 

He picked you up ever-so-gently by your shoulders, cupping you in his hand as he held you up close to his face. You became more aware of his less than human features–the vertical pupils, the flawless, stone-cold skin, the delicately pointed ears. And the pristine white teeth–with a set of sharp canines on the top and bottom that looked like they could pierce your flesh effortlessly. 

While his appearance now was fairly close to a human, you had to remind yourself that Malleus was a dragon. It was getting a little easier to see the resemblance as he lifted you above his maw with his other hand, holding you between his thumb and forefinger as he subtly ran his tongue over his bottom lip. 

“Now, to answer your first question.”

He opened wide, and you could see all the way to the back of his throat when you cast a timid glance down. It was only a brief look, however, as he closed his lips around your legs. Slowly, he pulled more of you into his mouth until only your head remained outside. His tongue moved around your body slowly, running along the exposed skin of your arms and teasing under your shirt along your middle. You did your best to keep your heart from exploding out of your chest–you would be shaking more if his lips didn’t hold you firmly in place, or if his tongue wasn’t pinning you against the bottom of his mouth as it tasted you.

Malleus’s eyes were closed as he seemed to savor the sensation–you weren’t sure if you appreciated this or not, but you were glad at the very least that he wasn’t pinning you down with his stare as well right now. Despite the fear hammering away in your chest, you were blushing like a madman at the oddly intimate moment.

You finally let out a breath as he slowly lifted you back out of his mouth, taking care to remove the excess saliva from your body as he did so. You felt…cold, all of a sudden. For a split second, you missed the warmth that had enveloped you moments before.

Malleus grinned, looking quite a bit like a cat who’d caught a particularly tasty mouse as he met your eyes again. “Humans all taste quite different. For some reason, you are particularly sweet. I imagine it has something to do with the unique magic affecting you right now.”  

What is the appropriate reaction to that, exactly? “Uh…so that’s…good?”

“An understatement,” he said, tapping his fingers lightly along his jaw as he smiled. “You are definitely the tastiest human I’ve ever had.” 

You couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or just seeing how much he could tease you, but either way you couldn’t stop your face from going red. 

“Now…I believe it’s time to answer question two.”

This was your last chance to say something, to make a rational decision that would prevent you from spending the night in the fae’s stomach–but once again, no words came.

“You’ll forgive me, of course–this is a bit of a rare treat for me, so I may not be able to hold myself back from enjoying your taste for a while.” Malleus’s smile was not cruel, but it was certainly…predatory. You wondered if he could feel the way your whole body was shaking.

Opening wide again, he lowered you into his gaping mouth. His lips closed around your waist as he explored your body with his tongue, pressing it firmly against his palate as he tasted you. You felt his lips part slightly as his tongue crept out under your head, ready to draw the rest of you inside. With one gloved finger, he gently pushed your head between his lips before closing them firmly behind you, leaving you completely in the dark. 

The engulfing warmth might have been pleasant if not for the fact that you were now thoroughly coated in saliva from head to toe. Your body rested on top of his soft tongue for just a moment before you were pressed against the roof of his mouth rather unceremoniously, though not painfully. He continued to move you around his mouth with his tongue, seeming to want to get a taste from every angle.

You found that, despite your face being smothered by his giant tongue and pressed against the inside of his cheek, your lungs did not seem to strain for air at all. Was this part of that “protection spell” he had cast on you? 

Well, I guess that’s ONE less thing to worry about. 

Suddenly the tongue underneath you relaxed, and for a moment you just laid there, face-down and absolutely still. You knew what was coming as his tongue slowly lifted and his head tilted back, and you got a lurching feeling in your stomach as you slid backwards and down his throat. The tight muscles caught your feet before he swallowed and pulled the rest of your body downwards. You caught the faintest glimpse of light as his mouth parted slightly, right before you disappeared down into the darkness. 

Being squeezed on all sides by the fae’s throat was a less unpleasant experience than you thought it might be. The muscles squeezed all around you, drawing you in deeper and deeper with each swallow. It went on for longer than you thought it would–and you wondered how he was able to swallow you whole like this without choking. Was he having trouble?

You felt some kind of pressure from outside the throat gently massage you and ease you further down. Before long, you could feel your feet enter an empty space as the throat released you, little by little, until your whole body fell into the fae’s stomach.

Mercifully, it wasn’t as bad as you had imagined a stomach could be. There were no acids or half-digested food waiting for you–just fleshy, saliva-coated walls on all sides that squeezed against you gently. Perhaps this was a mercy granted by the spell he’d cast on himself. You seemed to take up most of the room in Malleus’s stomach, and you opted to sit down as best you could, wrapping your arms around your legs protectively. 

This is it. It’s over. You felt yourself relaxing somewhat, no longer being squeezed by the throat or smothered by a tongue. The stomach was warm—and for a moment, you wondered if Malleus could breathe fire and if he could, where did it come from? Did it come from in here, and was that why it felt so warm? As you fell back into the folds of his stomach, you could feel a heat creeping into your skin—not unlike curling up next to the fire in Ramshackle. 

You heard a deep sound rumble around you, muffled by the walls of the stomach—a chuckle. “I take it that answers all of your questions?”

“Uh—” you began, before realizing that there was no way your voice could carry all the way to the fae’s ears now. 

“Oh, of course.” There was a pause, then: “You can speak now, little human.”

“Um—” What must have been magic caused your voice to resonate oddly, like you were speaking through a megaphone. You could even hear your own voice come from outside of Malleus’s stomach, strangely. “Did it hurt at all? Are you okay?”

The walls of the stomach shook with Malleus’s deep laugh. You found your sitting position jostled by the movement and used your arms to catch yourself before falling completely on the soft, wet floor. “After all that, you’re asking if I am okay? Perhaps I am more out of touch with others than I thought.” He paused. “No, it did not hurt. Even in this form, my body is used to such a thing. It was actually…quite a pleasant experience. I have not had the pleasure of eating a willing participant before, nor one who I intended to bring back out later.”

“Wait, you’ve never done this before?” you almost squeaked in surprise. “H-how did you know the spells would work?”

“Do you doubt my abilities, child of man?” His voice was humored, but you could sense a bit of an edge to the words.

“Well…no…”

“I would never allow harm to befall you, especially not from my own body. You will be safe until the morning, so rest.”

You wondered how many other people could tell you to get a good night’s sleep while you were literally inside of their stomach and actually make it sound like a good offer. Malleus’s words comforted you, and you realized that for better or worse, you trusted this fae with your life. 

You sunk into the slimy folds of his stomach, letting the heat seep into your skin. “Are you going to sleep too?”

You could feel his whole body move as he seemed to get up and walk a short distance before lying down. A soft creak of springs indicated that he was probably on his bed. In the dark, it didn’t change much for your perception of space, seeing as you couldn’t tell up from down regardless. “Perhaps,” he purred, his voice filled with utter content. “I don’t normally sleep for long, but feeling you inside of me is…quite relaxing.”

You felt a slight pressure on top of you—again, though your face was pressed against the wet folds of his stomach, your lungs weren’t gasping for air. It felt like he was gently massaging his belly. The soothing motion was more than enough to cause your tired eyelids to close, and help your body relax even further, just moments away from sleep.

You weren’t even sure if the next words you heard were real or a dream. 

“And I can still taste your sweetness on my tongue, child of man.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Thank you for reading! 

[faustinio27]

FAUSTINE DAEMON – Character profile (HL MC)

(Spoiler for Hogwarts Legacy game)

GENERAL

Age : 15 (5th year)

Gender : Female

House : Ravenclaw

MBTI : INFJ

Blood status : Unknow

Social status : Orphan so working class ?

Wand : Pear wood with a phoenix core, 12 ½’’ and slightly springy flexibility

Patronus : Stag

Boggart : Her loved ones turned into Inferni, accusing her of not saving them

Amortentia : Lavander, hot chocolate, old book

Favorite class : Dark arts defense, Beast, Charms

Favorite spells : Diffinfo, Incendio, Wingardium Leviosa, Ancient magic

Favorite teacher: Professor Fig, Professor Hecat

Least favourite teacher: Professor Binns

APPAREANCE

« Looks likes a cinnamon roll but could kill you » energy

Hair colour : Blond

Eye colour : Blue

Skin tone : Beige/rose-coloured

Height: 1m67 (5’6)

Distinguishing features : Scar on her face. Her eyes glow an intense blue when she accumulates enough ancient magic.

Clothing style : Always clean and well dressed, she wears school uniform most of the time, and alternates between skirt and pants. She can have a feminine as well as masculine style. She never takes off her black gloves. She likes to have moon and stars pattern/accessories when she chooses other ouftits.

She doesn’t have a lot of clothes because she is not rich enough to buy them.

(In game : traditional school robe with tattersall vest school uniform OR velvet school robe with elegant vest uniform)

Additional info : She never or rarely wears makeup. Her cheeks are very squishable. She wears Fig’s scarf after his death.

PERSONALITY

At first glance, Faustine is seen as distant, mysterious, even unapproachable. Many students talk behind her back to describe her this way. In reality, she is easy to approach and become friends with. She is happy to help others, although her kindness is not to be abused: if you ask her to risk her life for trivialities, she will refuse outright, or not hesitate to ask for something in return. But if you tell her about secret passages and other hidden treasures, she will accept to embark on any adventure, driven by her curiosity. This curiosity often leads her to get involved in things that are none of her business.

She has grown up in an environment that has consistently seen her as a nobody, which causes her to suffer from the savior complex. She constantly fears being seen as useless and not up to par, and feels compelled to prove to others her true worth. She is then easily stressed or burned out. If she manages to remain one of the top students in her class while hunting dark wizards and poachers, her friends must be careful that she doesn't overdo it. She despises laziness and hate when people attribute her success to luck, rather than hard work. She is afraid that lack of knowledge will prevent her from getting ahead in life. Being locked up in a Muggle orphanage for 15 years has also given her an extreme need for freedom. Introverted and solitary, she takes refuge in her imagination or flies on the back of a hypogriff on a whim when she needs to be alone.

Although calm and serious, once she feels comfortable with someone, she is much more relaxed, sarcastic and cynical. She likes to tease her friends, and can become really silly. Empathetic and always with good advice, she is the person you go to when you need to confide. She cherishes her best friends as family (Sebastian, Ominis, Poppy, Natsai and Amit). Once her trust is earned, her loyalty is unwavering. She will do anything for her closest friends, and will protect them at any cost. The only way to make her lose her temper is to take it out on them.

She then wants to learn the most dangerous and forbidden spells such as dark magic. If she knows that this type of magic is illegal, no matter what it is called, it can be useful if it allows her to save people. She believes that any type of magic can be used according to its purpose, but it only concerns her (she doesn't trust others who might misuse it…). Nevertheless, she tries not abuse these spells and prefers to use ancient magic, which is also effective and not illegal.

She can easily roasts you in a verbal argument. She prefers to use words to fight, but will not hesitate to use her wand or her fists when things go too far (even if she isn’t very good in close combat). When her friends are personally attacked, she can become very violent and ruthless. Better to have her as an ally than as an enemy. She is not very forgiving and believes that revenge justifies the means. She fights for her own conception of justice.

Traits : sarcastic, dreamy, hard-worker, loyal, curious, introvert, idealist, solitary

Likes : books, milk chocolate, nightsky, animals, art, discover hidden places, pretty things in general, money

Dislikes : dumb people, bullies, children, spiders, candies, loud noise, Gobstones, failing

Good at : winning a debat, literature, listening

Bad at : maths, having a good night schedule, avoiding stress, Quidditch

Hobbies : reading, taking care of her animals, exploring, flying with her hyppogriff, coffee date with friends

Fears : Not being up to the task, being a failure, losing her found family

RELATIONSHIP

Best friend :

Sebastian Sallow. He and Faustine have a real sibling relationship. They tease and make fun of each other, bicker, and make up. Faustine is the most cynical and sarcastic when she’s with him. She doesn't hesitate to tell him about her adventures outside Hogwarts and about ancient magic. She appreciates his optimism, his humor and his outspokenness, and quickly became attached to him at the beginning of the year, when he took her under his wing. They have a mutual trust, where both of them have each other's backs. If Faustine remains the more reasonable of the two, she is easily drawn into his adventures by curiosity and friendship. Knowing that he is stubborn in his decisions, when he wants to go on dangerous expeditions, she prefers to accompany and help him, to make sure nothing happens to him. Faustine is sympathetic in his quest to help his sister despite the dangers, because she knows she would do the same for him (even if Sebastian doesn't always realize it). Nevertheless, since Sebastian is stubborn and Faustine's patience has its limits, when their disagreements go too far, she doesn't hesitate to tell him what she thinks about his attitude then leave, expecting a sincere apology. Which he always ends up doing, and she always ends up accepting it. She knows he is flawed, but so is she; and while she doesn't know why or how she became so attached to this student, she's still willing to do anything for him.

Friends :

Ominis Gaunt : Ominis didn't like Faustine much at the beginning of the year, seeing her as a threat who might get Sebastian into trouble, and being afraid that she would replace him in their friendship. But he quickly realized that Sebastian didn't need her to get himself into bad situations, and that Faustine was there to get him out. Faustine, despite their rather cold start, immediately wanted to be his friend. Because if she’s friend with Sebastian, and he is too, why can’t them be friends too ? She quickly gained his trust by defending him on several occasions when he was arguing with Sebastian. Faustine appreciates Ominis' calm, sarcasm, sensitivity and intelligence, which balances Sebastian's personality. They are partners in some classes and enjoy spending time together.

Poppy Sweeting : Sometimes you don't need a lot of reasons to get along with someone. With Poppy, Faustine simply has a good connection. She likes her for her kindness and dedication to helping magical creatures. Faustine feels this need to help her and protect her from harm, especially when she finds herself in situations where she doesn't seem to realize the dangers that face her. Poppy's enthusiasm is contagious, and her presence always cheers Faustine up when she feels stressed.

Natsai Onai : If there is anyone Faustine trusts the most, it is her. Faustine knows her loyalty and courage are unwavering. Natty’s quest to destroy the dark wizards to protect her new home resonates strongly with Faustine, who desires the same thing. She appreciates Natty's trust in her, confiding in her about her feelings and her father's death. Even though Natty complains about her mother being overprotecting, Faustine can't help but be jealous that she has a mother who loves and cares about her.

Amit Thakkar : Amit is a fellow Ravenclaw whom she got to know better during astronomy classes. She appreciates his kindness and his passion for the stars, and willingly listens to him talk about them, even if she doesn't necessarily understand everything. They share a passion for reading adventure novels, and can discuss about it for hours without interruption. He frequently lends her books, and they look like two passionate nerds when they are in their common room. She sympathizes with his desire for adventure that she felt in the Muggle world, and doesn't mind his fearful temperament. Even though he is always worried when she takes him on more or less dangerous adventures, he is still loyal to her and wants to help her (which is good for Faustine, because she often finds herself in the opposite situation where she has to help people). As with Poppy, Faustine also feels a strong sense of protection towards him.

Caligo : Faustine rescued the black hypogriff from poachers. Much like Poppy with Highwing, Faustine and Caligo became really close, and they love to fly together under the starry sky. He is a proud hypogriff who won't let anyone but Faustine (and eventually Poppy) get near to him. He will stay with her even after Hogwarts.

Mentor :

Professor Fig : Professor Fig is the first to have a fatherly attitude towards her. He took her under his wing, educating her about this new world she knew nothing about, while teaching her magic with patience and kindness. They are both stubborn and misunderstood by their peers, and they both despise idiots. If Fig appreciated Faustine long before her discovery of ancient magic, their secret has bound them together. He may not admit it, but Faustine is his favorite student, and he does favors for her that he wouldn't do with other students. They are on the same wavelength, so much so that we could really think they are part of the same family.

She never forgives herself for his death.

Other :

She doesn’t like Garreth Weasley and Leander Prewett. She also didn’t likes Imelda Reyes at first, but at the end of the year, they both gained mutual respect for each other. Samantha Dale is one of her roommate, with whom she gets along well.

BACKSTORY

(Fic of her backstory)

Faustine has always lived in a muggle orphanage. She was found as a baby outside the doors of the orphanage and has no clue as to the identity of her biological parents. She grew up hoping to find a family, but after a certain age, she accepted the idea that she would never be adopted. The director and the other children kept telling her that no one would ever want her. Knowing that she was doomed to be homeless as soon as she came of age, Faustine decided to study. She hoped to find a job that would allow her to avoid poverty. She learned to be independent and to rely only on herself.

Reading brought her comfort in her gloomy life. All the fantasy stories took her on a journey, allowing her to escape her fate. She was often criticized for not living enough in the real world, but it was the only way she could make life bearable. At 14, Faustine was one of the eldest children in the orphanage. The director took advantage of this to give her thankless tasks, justifying that she was preparing her for real life.

One day, while Faustine was out shopping for the orphanage, she overheard two men talking about magic. Curious, she decided to follow them discreetly into the bad streets. While spying on them, she realized that they were wizards. Unfortunately, they were dark wizards who were smuggling illegal goods into the muggle world. Faustine was discovered, and the two men went after her to kill her. After attacking her with various offensive spells, Faustine was caught in a dead end. One of the wizards cast the death spell on her. At the same time, the ancient magic within her awoke. A magical blue bubble formed around her and blocked the spell. And in a fraction of a second, this magic retaliated by reducing the two wizards to dust. Faustine, unconscious, will only have a scar on her face as a souvenir of this confrontation. When she woke up at the hospital, she didn't remember what had happened. During her recovery, Faustine witnessed strange events. Objects began to move and levitate around her. The next day, an owl flew in through her window and handed her a strange letter. It said that she was admitted to Hogwarts, the school for apprentice wizards. Faustine didn't know how to react. She wanted to believe it. All her life she had dreamed of an escape. She felt like she was living in one of those fantasy books she loved so much. Her blackout, the levitating objects, the letter... The magic seemed real. But she kept it a secret until she had more information. She was afraid she would be given false hope.

Until Professor Fig arrived. He told her about the letter, and confirmed that she was a witch. Her powers seemed to have awakened only a few days ago, justifying the fact that she had not been located by the school before. He offered to mentor her, explaining that he had arranged with the director of the orphanage to keep it a secret. Faustine was overjoyed. She asked the professor to bring her as many books about the wizarding world as possible. She wanted to learn as much as she could about it. She felt - she knew - that she belonged there, and that a new and better life awaited her. And why not a family?

FUTURE

After Hogwarts, Faustine studied to become an Auror. Thanks to her seriousness, her experience with dark wizards, and her ever-growing ancient magic, she quickly became one of the best. She is known in the domain for being pitiless. But after a few years of service, she realized that she didn't want to give up her passion -books-, and that she wanted to make people dream with them, just like her. She then owned a magical library, which she maintained with former house elf Penny. She remained a part-time Auror, accepting only the most important and dangerous assignments from the Ministry. Over the years, she studied literature, philosophy and sociology. She took part in many political debates in the wizarding world, notably to defend equality between wizards and Goblins. And just like when she’s Auror, she’s just as ruthless to defend justice. She became an important and influential figure in the wizarding world. Her professions allowed her to live a comfortable life. If she didn't have time to build a family life, it doesn't bother her at all. Faustine is seen as the rich and eccentric single aunt in her found family, and continues to help them whenever they need it. As people said, "she is married to freedom".

AUTHOR NOTE

Faustine Daemon is based on my experience and decisions in the game. She is a mix between the general personality given to the MC, and a self insert. But working on her backstory and pushing her personality makes her a sort of OC I guess. I tried to make her backstory and personality justified and consistent with what the game tell us about (so not so much).

Don't hesitate to ask me questions about her, or to suggest interactions with your MCs, I'd love to read them! (and why not draw them?)

Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.

(Thank you for reading this far, have a cookie)