#cus his hat falls off

[seven-thewanderer]

This is completely random, but I decided to draw the Sun & Moon plushies I have

[irishmammonagenda]

"Mams, I have some news for you." You say, hands behind your back at a weird angle, clearly hiding something.

"Not now, MC, the Great Mammon's busy." The Avatar of Greed dismisses you in an attempt to take his focus away from the way he perked up like a lovesick puppy when he heard your voice.

"But Mams, it's super important."

Mammon looks up from his DDD and stares at you expectantly, when he once more realises he's behaving like a lovesick puppy, he stares at his nails instead, scoffing. "This better be good, human. Do ya think I have all day?! Cus I don't!"

"But Mams! You're a dad now! You have to make time for your family!"

Mammon splutters, dropping his phone and falling off of his bed. "I'm a WHAT??!!! MC who's lyin' to ye! I'm not a dad!!!"

"Yes you are!" You bring your arms out from behind your back to reveal a small little black blob with small little golden horns, wearing an equally small black top hat with yellow accents.

"Papa!" Little D No.2 exclaims from your arms.

"ARRRGH!! The Great Mammon is not yer papa Little D!!!" Mammon shouts, attempting to cover the blush on his face.

You pout, Little D No.2 mirrors your expression. "But Mams! He's the spitting image of you! He's even got your horns! Are you abandoning our child?!"

"Yeah, Papa are you abandoning our chil-...wait hold on I am the child-....Yeah! Papa are you abandoning yer child?!"

"See! He even talks like you! He said yer!"

"T-t-that proves nothin'!! I-I'm not a dad!" Mammon splutters.

You look at him sulkily. "D-do you not wanna have a family with us...I mean how could you say no to this face?" You pinch Little D No.2's cheek and push him out towards the Second Born. "He's adorable! He gets it from you!"

"Fine! I'm a dad! Now please....stop poutin'?" Mammon almost pouts himself before his learned bravado makes another show. "Ahem...! What I was tryna say was....I, the Great Mammon don't care if you pout or not!"

Little D No.2 stage whispers to you. "Psst, what Mammon means to say is that he's so deeply unequivocally in love with you he hardly knows what to do with himself!"

Mammon sputters and shouts something in protest, but you just grin. "Awww! I love you too Mams!"

Mammon subconsciously preens at the praise before staring daggers at a sniggering Little D No.2 as you cradle it in your arms like a baby and coo to it things like 'You look so much like your papa! Yes you do!' and tap its little top hat before booping the small creature's nose, or where a nose should be on a Little D.

Mammon cracks a soft smile watching the scene; not that he'd ever admit it. Even though Little D No.2 was a little shit, he wouldn't mind someday having little shits of his own with you and starting an actual family, except he hoped they'd look like you.

[stinkysam]

Roronoa Zoro - Dinner.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “a male siren reader. Reader follows the straw hats ship around singing making zoro fall asleep more then usual, the siren sneaks onto the ship while zoro is asleep and leans in about to eat him but zoro ofc wakes up and thinks the siren is trynna kiss him he’s flustered but not complaining cus the male siren is gorgeous and you can take it from there.” - anon

Reader : male (he/you)

A/N : Part TWO

Water was dripping down your body when you sneaked into the ship, quietly approaching the green haired man. You noticed his three swords and delicately pulled them off of him before putting them aside. Now, he was truly at your mercy. He'd only have his voice to scream as you'd rip his flesh out.

You opened your mouth, licking your sharp teeth, you could already imagine the pungent taste of his flesh on your tongue with his strong blood gushing everywhere and into your mouth. You grabbed his face to push his head to the side, too entranced by the smell of your dinner to notice his eyes fluttering open.

Zoro froze, you were too close, your proximity taking him off guard along with your beauty and the intensity in your eyes. What the fuck ? Who is he ? What the fuck !?

You could hear his heart racing, beating loudly in his chest, alerting you. You pulled back a bit in surprise and saw him stare at you, face red.

Your eyes widened. Fuck. He wasn't supposed to wake up. You should've sang longer, but you had been too eager to taste him and rushed things.

Finally, he tried to grab one of his swords to push you away, but in vain, none of them were nowhere near him. You pulled away, your hand leaving a wet mark in his cheeks, and quickly ran off.

“Wait !” He called, rapidly standing on his feet, but you jumped off the deck and back into the water, disappearing out of his sight. He went where you jumped, looking to see if you were still here, but only the reflection of the moon could be seen in the dark sea.

Zoro waited, staring into the water in case you'd come out again. What the fuck happened ? Did someone just try to kiss him ? His mind was racing, and his lips felt like they were burning as if you had touched them. He touched them with the tip of his fingers, thinking.

The morning slowly came, and Zoro hadn't slept since what happened, too preoccupied by the pretty stranger who tried to kiss him.

It took a few hours for the others to notice, finding Zoro too in his thoughts to insult Sanji properly.

“Do you think he's okay ?” Whispered Nami to Usopp, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

“I don't know…” He whispered back. “Hey, Zoro ! Sanji thinks your swords are useless !”

“Oi, what was that for !?” Exclaimed Sanji, turning to Usopp with a frown, letting go of the plate he was cleaning.

But Zoro barely reacted. He should've drawn his swords out, ready to throw himself at Sanji and fight like usual, but nothing. A simple “He's the useless one.” and that's it.

Usopp, Nami and Sanji looked at each other, confused. This was weird.

“Hey, what's wrong with you ?” Nami asked, it was the first time she saw him like that, even if it's been only a week they've known each other. “Did something happen while you were on watch duty ?”

But Zoro said nothing, instead leaving the kitchen. There was no way in hell he'd talk about what almost happened last night.

You, nearly kissing him.

He stood next to Luffy, who was fishing, and he stupidly hoped his small hook would catch your eyes and you'd come back, hoping to fish you out.

[cumulo-stratus]

Communication Issues

(GIF NOT MINE)

Plantonic!BAU team x french!reader

Description: reader is from France and lived there until he was 11/12 and then moved to america and his first language is french. He also has a little bit of an accent. Basically reader is new to the team and it is their first late night back home on the jet with him. And basically they learn that when hes tired he reverts back to his mother tongue.

CW: possible swearing, I can't think of anything else

A/N: I'm thinking of making a series about this, like just funny scenarios related to the reader being French, if y'all have any ideas let me know! Also reader is gonna be loosely based off me when im rly tired cus i get kinda giggly/floppy/goofy. ( also sry it's short)

French, translation

3rd person POV:

after a hard, and long case the team was very ready to go home. They had found a 9 yr old girl and rescued her from a man holding her in his basement to torture her. And even though it took the profilers almost 3 full days with almost no sleep to find her. To say they were tired was understatement. It was almost 2 am when they trudged onto the plane, all tired physically and emotionally. Y/N was the last on the plane and decided to take the couch to get some sleep. Just as he was sitting down Reid plopped down next to him. (Y/N and Reid liked to sit next to each other so they could read together)

“Désolé reid, je veux lire avec toi, mais je suis trop fatigué pour ça” (sorry reid, i wanna read with you but im too tired for that) you said to him, slightly slurring your words. “Huh?” Spencer looked up at you with a small crease between his eyebrows. The switch in language caught the rest the rest of the team off guard as well (evidently by the looks on their faces) you peered at them just as perplexed and asked “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” (Whats wrong?).

“Dont worry guys I’ll talk to him” said spencer with a little giggle at his new friends antics. Morgan gave spencer a little knowing look and eyebrow wiggle at his conversation with Y/N, despite having no idea what they were saying. “Mon biche, tu parle français maintenant, pas anglais.” (Darling, you’re speaking french right now, not english) says spencers with a small smile. a look of understanding dawned your features and you said “je suis?! Oh c'est pas grave, Oh, tu n'as besoin que de me comprendre de toute façon.” (I am?! Thats okay, you’re the only one who needs to understand me anyways) you say with a wink ad a giggle. Spencers cheeks went red and emily gave him a questioning look. “Y/N, tu fais quoi?” (y/n, what are you doing?). you just gave him a mischievous look before putting your head on his shoulder and snuggling into him to fall asleep. The rest of the team got bored of making fun of the pair and began their own conversations or trying to sleep. But after a minute or two the team heard and hushed but strict “shhhhh!” coming from their resident genius. “You guys are so loud! hes asleep!” said spencer’s while he gestured vicariously to the sleeping figure drooped over his left side. “hush up pretty boy, your little boyfriend over theres out cold dont worry about it.” said derek with a teasing smile. spencers cheeks turned even more red than before if hat was even possible and started stuttering about the sleep man not being his boyfriend. “okay, okay, hes not your boyfriend,” said derek with his hands up in surrender after spencer kept spluttering on about y/n not being his boyfriend.

(small time skip)

As the plane landed people began packing up their things and getting ready to get off the plane. But y/n and Spencer had moved and when the team looked over they found the two agents passed out on top of each other and snoring lightly.

THE END

[glitterrosesnzz]

im so obsessed with set/hos/cara it's becoming a genuine problem. here's a tiny fic of the two of them.

-

It started raining. Out of nowhere, seemingly, just a sudden downpour. Not even the leaves of the tree who's branch the two of them were sitting on was enough to keep the rain from falling down upon them.

Sethos had jumped a little, before remaining completely still, letting the rain splash over him-

Up until the Wanderer had grabbed his arm and harshly yanked him close enough that Sethos was practically in the other's lap, almost completely protected from the rain by the Wanderer's hat.

"So, is this what your hat is for?" Sethos asked, "Protection from the rain?"

"Tch." The Wanderer didn't give him an answer, instead avoiding eye contact with him, seemingly somewhat annoyed by the question. Sethos smirked at him- and then sniffled a little, rubbing his nose with his sleeve, which didn't do much considering his sleeve was already damp from rain water. The Wanderer looked back at him with an expression that was almost aghast. "Surely such a brief moment in the rainfall didn't make you sick already. Are you really that weak?"

"Haha, no, no, it's just, the change in temperature is making my nose b-buzz... hH-hHAt'SHu!!" Sethos jolted, sneezing into his hand, tiny sparks of electricity making the Wanderer startle, and it was only through the Wanderer quickly adjusting his hold that they didn't both go tumbling off of the tree branch. Gripping the other's shoulder for stability, Sethos couldn't help but notice that the Wanderer had tensed, almost like he was holding his breath... before relaxing again.

"...Pathetic." The Wanderer said, "One single tiny change in temperature is enough to make you humans- h-hey, wait, don't do it again-"

"Hh- hAH- HATt'Chuu!!" Sethos wasn't going to really get much choice in the matter, but he was a little too preoccupied to tell the Wanderer that. "HhAH- AT'Chuh!!"

"Hh'nNxtii!!"

Sethos paused in rubbing his nose to glance at the Wanderer- who now had his own nose pinched in between his fingers, his cheeks flushed slightly pink. Sethos slowly started to smirk at him again.

"What were you saying before?" Sethos asked, "Something about it being pathetic for me to be affected by something like a temperature change-"

"It was not, the change in temperature." The Wanderer slowly stopped pinching his nose, almost hesitatingly, like he wasn't sure whether or not his need to sneeze had actually gone away. Sethos couldn't help but take note of that, even as the Wanderer glared at him. "...It was nothing."

"It sure didn't sound like nothing." Sethos readjusted himself, the Wanderer grabbing hold of the other's arms to make sure that he didn't fall as Sethos shifted to face him. "It sounded like a sneeze to me."

"It wasn't. I don't sneeze."

"Are you sure? Cause it looks to me like your nose is twitching."

"It's not-"

"You completely sure that the temperature change isn't making your nose itch? Making it buzz, like, zzzz-" Sethos paused mid-sound effect as he noticed the other's eyes get a little bit hazy. "Woah, wait, is just talking about it making you start to-"

"No." The Wanderer's grip on Sethos' arms tightened ever so slightly. "Stop talking about it."

"But what if I wanna hear you sneeze again, huh?" Sethos said, nearly laughing at the expression that immediately crossed the Wanderer's face in response. "I was a little preoccupied at the time, obviously, so I couldn't really tell, but I think it sounded cute-"

"Cu- what, I didn't-"

Sethos' rolled his eyes at the Wanderer's angry stammering, before flicking a tiny bit of electricity at him, the way he normally did to slightly annoy the other-

Only this time it had another effect.

"Hih- hH'shKiu!!" With his hands gripping Sethos' arms to keep him steady, the Wanderer couldn't stifle, a burst of anemo energy tussling Sethos' hair. The Wanderer's hat got knocked slightly off balance, and Sethos had to quickly reach up and grab hold of it with one hand to keep it from falling off and exposing the both of them to the rain.

"See?" Sethos said, "Your sneeze is cute."

The Wanderer glared at him.

"I could drop you." He said, "I could drop you out of this tree right now."

"But you won't~"

[aroace-mabel-pines]

older dipper & mabel hcs

mabel collects squishmallows, webkinz, and barbies (primarily 80s and 2000s ones, her faves are the barbie rewind dolls)

her laptop and water bottle are decked out with stickers from redbubble, she also sells stickers of her own both online and locally

both she and dipper shop secondhand a fair bit and are adamant about keeping/preserving physical media

mabel's clothes are all either handmade or thrifted

they're neighbors and they frequent karaoke bars together, and go over to each other's places to play video games fairly often

they were roommates during university, "we've lived together all our lives so might as well continue that instead of living with strangers"

mabel still loves 80s pop music, she also got into synthwave partway thru university (she was an art student and graduated with a bfa, majored in fibre arts tho she loved and still loves dabbling in various different mediums)

she also loves dance pop in general, esp 2000s and early 2010s stuff (she's also a future funk girlie)

dipper's a bit less embarassed about the music he likes, though overall he's still more reserved than his sister (he loves lofi/chillhop music cus it helps him relax/calm down)

wendy's hat is a comfort item for him, tho he doesn't wear it every day

mabel's more mellow than she was during her tween & teen years, but she's still the more outgoing one between her and dipper

mabel realized she's aroace partway thru highschool and still proudly identifies as such into her adult years (ofc dipper's the first person she came out to)

dipper is a pan trans man

after getting her braces off, mabel has to wear a retainer every night to bed (she picked out a rainbow pattern for it)

not long after mabel got her braces off, dipper needed braces (much to his chagrin and her amusement); after he got them off, he picked out a glow-in-the-dark retainer

they both visit gravity falls whenever they're able (usually a summer trip) and they keep in touch with the people they bonded with the most, esp wendy, soos, pacifica, candy & grenda, and their grunkles

"we literally survived an apocalypse and almost dying, we had barely any trouble navigating our teen years and our adult lives so far"

dipper got into writing and likes writing mystery novels and stuff about urban legends; in his spare time he makes video essays about his various interests

they still wear matching costumes every halloween, sometimes opting for pop culture relevant stuff

i really like the hc i saw elsewhere on tumblr where they get matching tattoos of their cipher wheel symbols (shooting star and pine tree); mabel also gets a tattoo in honor of waddles

[cupidsdescendant]

Mercs helping with Periods (Part 3)

GENDER NEUTRAL :DD

AM I OKAY?!??!! (changing the name bc the original was about periods in general and not just cramps) THE LONG-AWAITED ENDING OF THE SERIES AHHHH- I wanted to do part 3 for hella long but my ass forgot for like....4 months lmao- (NSFW WARNING FOR MEDIC'S PART)

Spy:

-ugly stupid frenchman who doesn't care about anyone but himself

-but this is fandom so you think I really care? no.

-He's a womanizer, man. like his ass doesn't know what a period is.

-Anyways he's super romantic! Always showering you in kisses everywhere, stomach, neck, shoulders, everywhere!

-"Aw, Mon Cheri~ Vill this make you feel better ?" He lays you on his bed and pulls your shirt up kissing all around your hip bones and belly. You giggly tell him to stop cus it tickles.

-Whenever you lash out at him/get angry if he does something you don't like he smoothly gets out of being punished

-Like you could be fucking furious but his ass will make you fall for him once more in less than an hour

-Massage expert. Like. Massages anytime anywhere.

-He's the one that makes baths for you to relax your muscles in

-the few times he's physically romantic (like with the kissing) he hugs you and holds onto you more often

-He actually sleeps in the same bed as you! Win win!

-When you get hungry he makes you food <3 mostly french food but he's open to making you something you crave

-THEE. shoulder to cry on dude. He comforts you so much and whenever you latch onto him his body is all warm. presumably from all the smoking

-He doesn't want you to talk to the mercs while you're on your cycle because if they say something slightly offensive he doesn't want you to be hurt by them

-"You all must be less of imbeciles while shes around, le bien?" He says angrily pointing at everyone. They all nod nervously, they don't really want him sneaking up on them anyways

-Oh how he loves his Mon Cheri <3 everything just for them

Medic:

-the one i've been waiting for, for so long.

-As an ex doctor, Medic is always caring and loving with you

-He's the one that asks you to take pamprin or other menstrual medication

-He knows when your period comes after a bunch of tests, and after all as his love he wants to make sure he's always available!

-Coddles you 24/7, he treats you like you're bed ridden and only wants you to stay in so he can take care of you <3

-He's always trying to make sure you're okay. At the drop of a hat he would zoom off to you if you yell his name

-"Oh vat's wrong, liebling?" He says as he rubs your aching stomach. He would lay his head on your stomach and hum.

-Always feeding you, does the stupid airplane thing if you're acting angry

-Speaking of angry, if you lash out to him he usually ignores it and continues to baby you.

okay. I'm sorry but I had to write a NSFW part because he legit. like. the demons in my brain are telling me to (NSFW WARNING AHEAD)

-He's into period sex, he finds it fascinating. absolutely hot.

-He already has fun teasing you with blood on his hands after surgery, so having your own blood on him turns him on 100%

-likes the smell. yeah i know it's gross but what do you expect from a fucking freak doctor who stole a patients skeleton

-"Did jou know sex is a great way to relieve menstrual cramps?" He taunts you as he kisses you up against your neck.

-Knowing you're on you period turns him on so much. All he wants to do is fuck you until there's blood on over your thighs

-Now this man is disgusting and unsanitary but! He still gives you showers and baths, of course, he has to be in it with you.

-He likes watching the blood fall from your legs and down the drain, usually muttering the most unhinged horny things in german.

k I'm sorry. like. fr. Thanks 4 reading though!

[juneknight]

Sweet Requitement

About this: wrote this ages ago for Miss 🧤 but never shared it because I don’t know that anyone will like this side of dorm room!Marc

The power on campus goes out; you and Marc stay warm. No warnings except maybe wine, hints at Marc’s abusive childhood; SFW.

*

“This should be illegal,” you chatter, hands tucked beneath your armpits for warmth. You and Marc stand at your kitchen island looking at the up-ended contents of the brown paper bag that your university had delivered only minutes ago. 

Inside is a fuzzy throw blanket—price reduced, judging by the sticker that someone had begun trying to remove and given up on; microwaveable hand-warmers; packets of hot cocoa—reduced fat.

And a note: Students in the dormitories are encouraged to come to the North Gymnasium where there will be free hot chocolate, blankets, and space heaters. This is recommended for any student with health conditions. 

“Do you want to go?” Marc asks you. He has a genuinely inscrutable way of asking questions, one which gives no hint at any personal preference of his own. 

“I would rather die, personally.”

Marc snorts softly. He crumples the note. “Think we can burn this as kindling?”

The two of you light candles around the apartment, though your RA has advised against it. Considering it is winter, the sun sets early, and neither of you are interested in sitting in the dark for half the night. Dressing in your warmest layers, hats and gloves and all, you chance opening the refrigerator long enough to snag one of your open bottles of wine and pass it back and forth, finishing it off. 

“They should have just given us all some wine,” you say, cheeks warm. “I don’t feel cold at all.” 

“It’s making us colder, actually,” Marc says. He’s got his head leaning back against the wall, turned to face you. He reaches out and traces one of your cheeks with the buttery-softness of his leather glove. “It dilates the veins in our skin which brings blood and warmth to the surface. Away from our vital organs. But those aren’t important.”

“No way,” you tease, batting away his hand. “Who needs lungs. Or a brain.”

“Or a heart,” Marc says softly. 

“Definitely don’t need one of those,” you mutter, the mention of that specific vital organ reminding you how close you sit next to the person who makes your heart pound. Skip beats. Stutter. Ache. Soar. Your best friend.

You glance towards Marc and he is already staring at you. He smiles, slow, eyes a little lidded from exhaustion more likely than the half bottle of wine. Your best friend-cum-roommate (and nothing more!) had not been sleeping well. Sometimes when you were awake before him, you’d see him ashen and sweating, twitching in his dreams. More often, Marc just refused to sleep. 

“Marc?”

He hums. 

“What do you dream about at night?”

Marc’s eyes shut. You see them flicker beneath his eyelids, like he is remembering. He says, simply: “Growing up.”

“Growing up really sucked, huh.”

He doesn’t laugh, but his eyes open, and you see the laughter in them, in the curve of his full mouth. Then his eyes shut again. His body has begun to bow towards yours, and soon if you were to leaning down a little you’d be able to brush your lips against the crown of his head.

“Are you about to fall asleep on me?” You wonder quietly.

“If you’d stop talking.” 

You swallow. “Well maybe we should actually lay down to do that. You know? We’re getting old. You threw out your back opening that bag of Doritos last week—“

“I did not throw out my back—,” Marc grumbles sleepily. “—they’re making those bags harder and harder to open—“

“Come on, tiger, let me tuck you in.”

You fold back Marc’s blankets and watch him slip beneath them. It is strange taking care of him when so often he is the one taking care of you. Strange, but welcome. Even more welcome when his glove wraps around your wrist softly.

“We’re sharing tonight,” he slurs. “It’s too cold not to.”

It isn’t the first time you’d have shared a bed…but it will be the first time you’ll be cuddling for warmth. Usually when you ask to sleep with him, Marc tucks you beneath the covers and then sleeps on top of them. But Marc is right; it is cold enough already, and only going to get colder. 

You slip into the bed and let the blankets fall over you both. 

“C’me here,” Marc whispers into your beanie. “Can I hold you?”

You nod, not trusting your voice as Marc gathers you close, looping his arms around your waist. You can’t tell because of the numerous layers, but you know Marc’s body: hard, lightly muscled, lean. You shiver and he squeezes you tighter.

“There’s another way we could keep warm,” Marc says. His voice is low, slow. It rumbles through you, makes goosebumps rise on your neck that have nothing to do with the cold. 

“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly. 

“If you wanted—only if you wanted,” he promises.

And fuck, you want. You ache. You spent so many nights with your face buried in your pillow, rubbing the wet needy slit between your legs thinking about this very thing while you listen to his quiet breathing on the other side of the room. Yeah. You want.

Sometimes, you even think that Marc wants. He has never overstepped a boundary with you. He has been with you when you’re drunk, high, cross-faded. Deliriously heartbroken because your latest Marc substitute broke up with you. Naked, in just your underwear, in just your underwear and one of his shirts. But Marc is the definition of respectful. You could pull out both tits at the breakfast island and Marc’s eyes would never waver from your own. 

Which makes it so much more noticeable when he does waver. Like once when the two of you had gotten soaked by rain coming back to the dorm from class. He had let you duck into the bathroom first to change into your warm, ugly clothes (comfortable clothes, thanks!), stood there shivering and wet on the linoleum waiting his turn. And when he had come out of the bathroom ten minutes later dressed in his own warm comfortable clothes (nothing ugly about the way his pajama pants sit low on his hips and cling to his thick thighs)—when he had come out and found you with his leather jacket spread out on the kitchen island, dabbing at it with a dry cloth because ‘Google says rubbing it dry could remove the natural oils and ruin it!’ 

Then—right then he gives you a look. Like he wants. His eyes (so dark and pretty and expressive) drop to your mouth. It is the buildup to a movie-worthy first kiss, and then it is gone as he gently takes the cloth to take over and tells you to go get under a blanket before you catch a cold. 

Yes, sometimes you are nearly positive that Marc wants you. This moment solidifies it.

“I could make you feel good,” Marc promises, voice still slurring and slow from his exhaustion. “I’d be so good to you, I promise. I’d take such good care of you.” 

Take care of you—yes, that’s what you were trying to do right now with Marc, wasn’t it? You let him continue to murmur his pleas beneath his breath, his body shaking against your own.

“We shouldn’t tonight,” you whisper, your voice easily loud enough in this little den of blankets that surround you both. “You’re exhausted Marc. Your eyes aren’t even open. You’re so tired.”

Marc sighs. His lashes flutter. “Yeah, ‘m tired. Tired of pretending. Pretending like I’d need anything but you to keep my heart warm. Pretending…”

You are breathless, but you prompt him: “Yeah? Marc?” 

Marc just hums. His mouth goes a little slack. After a few minutes, his eyes begin to flicker beneath his lids. He has fallen asleep. 

You relax into the blankets, into the loving cage of his arms, nearly buzzing. Marc said he didn’t need anything but you to keep his heart warm! If it wouldn’t wake him, you might have shrieked with glee, with triumph, with the sweet requitement of your affections. How you expect to sleep, you’ll never know. 

But the next time you wake, it is to Marc thrashing beside you. You’re sure for a moment that it’s a nightmare—some terrible memory about growing up—but then you realize he is throwing blankets off of you both, tugging the hat from his head (curls riotous and sweaty). Fuck, it is hot. 

The electricity is back on, and so is the heat. 

“Oh my god this is hell,” you whine, kicking at the blankets. You unzip your coat even as Marc pulls a hoodie off from over his head. Your shirt is sticking to your body, and you peel it off as well since you have a tank top on beneath. 

Finally the two of you face each other in nothing but your essentials, sweating, candles burned to nothing all around the room. A glance at the window shows only a pale blue glow of early dawn. 

Marc can’t meet your eyes. If there was any doubt that he remembered his words from last night, that doubt is gone now. Your heart twists. 

“Marc?” you ask, voice small and quiet.

Marc hums. 

“What now?”

Marc finally looks at you. He’s wearing only his boxers, chest slick with sweat from being buried beneath the blankets once the heat had returned. His hair is a mess from the winter hat he had worn to bet. 

You love him like this. You love him. 

“Now,” says Marc, voice delightfully raspy with disuse. “We lay in your bed.”

[ventismacchiato]

chiscara headcanons ? 👀

shoutout to the multiple ppl who asked me 😈

canon compliant sorta

childe followed scara around like a puppy after getting recruited since he was in awe of his fighting ability

stole his hat once and never again after scara raged out on him

openly has called scara hot and scara tells him to stfu

teucer loves scara and scara wud rather chop his leg off than admit he likes kids; he lets teucer ride down hills in his hat

that one scene from howl’s moving castle but it’s scara cus childe wanted to see how it felt like to float as high as u want / his hands on childe’s waist moans

they are both so touch starved but scara never initiates it. one time he did and childe teased him so scara never did it again until months later and childe doesn’t say anything cus he doesn’t wanna scare him off

modern au moment

strangers to best friends to lovers

growing up they went to the same elementary school and childe befriended the entire class, including scara and he was scaras first real and only friend

went on to middle or high school and childe instantly became popular bc of his social status and how extroverted he was so scara assumed childe wud leave him for other ppl who actually talked and matched his energy

so he was surprised when childe kept in touch w him

scara was popular too cus of his looks but nobody talked to him too much cus of his demeanor

childe confessed first but scara makes the first move to kiss

childe probably lived in a frat house and scara got his own room so childe sleeps over half the time

goes on a lot of bar crawls and sometimes scara goes to keep an eye on him but he just stands in the corner and glares at anyone who flirts with childe

childe gives him his letterman jacket and it drowns scara so next time around he orders a smaller size and everyone on childe’s team is like wtf it wont fit u but he doesn’t care cus it’s for his bf

hc childe plays college soccer and scara goes to his games, he’s too awkward to cheer him on and he doesn’t care to learn the rules but he’s there

he’s jealous cus he’s insecure (he has abandonment issues 😍) so it upsets him when cheerleaders flirt w childe

scara probably has a more time consuming major so study dates but childe just sleeps during them or watches scara study

childe small spoon omg cus scara will hug him when he’s asleep and doesn’t realize it

scara is a skincare whore and he’ll make childe do facemasks

he loves childe’s freckles…sometimes he counts them when childe falls asleep first and if childe’s insecure about them he’ll tell him to stfu

i got carried away lemme shut up 😇 (i will reply to the other ppl w more)

[mlmxreader]

Drunken Howling | R.J. MacCready x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ anyone you'd like from your fallout characters you write for, with the prompt;

"The first time you said you loved me - that was my best day"

preferably fo4, but if you wanna do other ones that's fine too ❞

: ̗̀➛ MacCready tags along while you and Preston go drinking with Old Longfellow.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking, alcohol consumption, drunkenness

↳ word count: 1000

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

MacCready knew it was a mistake to leave you and Preston with Old Longfellow at the pub, but he had to leave for a brief moment to have a cigarette and to get himself something to eat; he came back to find you hunched over the table, leaning on one arm with the other slung over Preston’s shoulders, your glare fixed on Longfellow’s.

“No, no, listen,” you slurred. “This motherfucker here? He’s the best fuckin’ cunt I ever did meet. Honest, I fuckin’ swear down that he is - best cunt in the world, I reckon!”

Longfellow smiled, nodding along as he looked at Preston for a moment, trying not to laugh. “I’ll take your word for it, kid.”

“He’s lying,” Preston chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m really not that great.”

“Oh, hush!” You all but howled, shaking your head and smacking his arm. “You’re the cunt in charge of the only cunts who give a fuck about any of us! You, Mister Fuckin’-Garvey, are a fuckin’ angel, y’know. A fuckin’ angel.”

Preston was relieved when MacCready sat down beside you, pulling you into his side as he laughed softly. “And what about me, cowboy?”

You shrugged, swaying a little as you reached for your drink and took a long gulp. Moonshine seemed to do wonders for your honesty. “You are the fuckin’ love of my life, you can do no fuckin’ wrong… but I’m not forgivin’ you for never lettin’ me steal your cuntin’ hat.”

MacCready pulled back briefly, taking his cap off and gently smacking it onto your head as he stole a few swigs from your pint glass. “Happy?”

“Very much so,” you grinned, gently kissing his lips. “Because I know you don’t do anything without a reward.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he watched you put the hat on properly; his ears were turning bright pink, as were his cheeks, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he leaned back to catch his breath a little bit. “You feeling okay?”

You nodded eagerly, pressing another kiss to his lips as a hum slipped from the back from your throat. “Dandy… but you disappeared on me.”

“I only went for a cigarette,” he pointed out. “You want one?”

You nodded again, letting him help you to your feet before he took you outside; the sea breeze hit you like a freight train, and you immediately clung onto his arm to steady yourself.

MacCready put a cigarette between your lips, lighting it for you before easing you against the wall so you wouldn’t fall over despite stumbling over your own feet. Slipping from the wetness of the sea battered wooden floors as you laughed, your face hot as you rolled your sleeves up and grinned at him. 

“I fuckin’ love you, y’know,” you slurred with a soft laugh. “I fuckin’ love you so much. You fuckin’ mean the world to me, you fuckin’ daft cunt, you know that, don’t you?”

MacCready laughed loudly, closing his eyes as he did so, resisting the urge to throw his head back as he grinned. “I love you, too.”

It still felt wrong to say the words, but admittedly, MacCready was getting used to it; the wrongness was just starting to feel like a slight sting in the chest, the way that a nettle would sting. A small irritation, but still so painfully obviously there even when he tried to hide it.

But knowing that you had more than enough liquid courage to say those things to him did make him feel a little bit better about admitting it; even though every warning sign in his head was telling him to grab you before you fell and vomited. 

“You’re a good cunt,” you told him between sharp drags from the cigarette. “A really fuckin’ good cunt. You’re my favourite cunt. My favouritest cunt.”

MacCready nodded, humming as he came to stand beside you so that he could grab you if you stumbled; fixing his hat to make sure that it wouldn’t fall from your head. “Thanks, cowboy. You, too.”

“Aww!” You gushed. “I’m your favourite cunt?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he laughed. “But sure.”

Fuck it.

“You gave me a second chance,” he told you softly. “I didn’t think I could… feel anything for someone again, and I f- I really appreciate that.”

“It’s a fuckin’ puppy!” You gasped out upon seeing one of the stray dogs wander towards the pub, skidding down onto your knees and taking its face in your hands. Tears quickly beginning to stream down your face. “Puppy! R.J., can we take him home? He’s a puppy and I love-is him.”

MacCready could only laugh as you petted the dog and cried over it, wondering how the fuck he got so lucky to be given a second chance with a man who made him laugh so much whilst also giving him a shoulder to lean on when he needed it most.

He gently pulled you away from the dog, keeping you steady against his body as he allowed a few small chuckles to escape the back of his throat. He really was just so lucky.

“I love-is you, too,” you slurred out, clinging onto him. “I really do - you is my favouritest cunt in the whole worlds.”

“Yeah, you, er, you made that pretty clear,” he slowly started to guide you towards the door. “C’mon, we’ll grab Preston and go home.”

“Wait!” You protested, swaying from side to side as you grinned and laughed. “I wants a kiss.”

MacCready smiled, shaking his head as he gave you a soft, quick kiss to the lips. “Come on, before you call me a c-... well, y’know.”

“A cunt!” You howled out proudly. “You are a cunt, R.J.! And I love you! You cunt!”

He rolled his eyes, opening the door and ushering you inside so you could grab Preston. “Come on, we should start getting ready to go home.”

“I loves you.”

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

I'm a bit drunk rn, but thanks for reading! if you could spare 5 minutes, maybe consider sending anything you can to help Mahmoud to rebuild his life as he is currently trying to survive the ongoing genocide. Any little helps, genuinely, even if it's a bit of shrapnel from your back pocket - just a few pence, anything would help.

[aikoiya]

Jazz as Altair (The Bluebird of Gotham)

This is based on @tireduniversityscam's Halfa Jazz with Parent Syndrome au, a.k.a. BrucexJazz & @lordgrimoire's Bluebird vigilante Jazz.

I'm thinking that Jazz's vigilante name could be either Altair after the bluebird star (as homage to her brother, the astronerd) or just simply The Bluebird. As bluebirds represent hope, love, renewal, optimism, joy, as well as symbolizing the essence of life & beauty. Not to mention Immortality.

Also, seeing a bluebird after a death represents that the soul of your lost loved one has reached the afterlife. So, seeing her tends to give comfort to those who've lost loved ones.

I see her looking like this:

But maybe with her hair more resembling mist instead of water should her main element be wind instead of water to go with the bluebird aesthetic. Same color, but mist.

Here's a close up of her hat:

I see her using a Fenton Whiplash (just an anti-ecto whip) or just being able to form her ectoplasm into a whip. Either/or.

Also, this mask:

This is her with the mask:

If not a trenchcoat, then a blue cape that fans out to look like bird wings when she's flying. Like the Roc's Cape from LoZ: Minish Cap.

I always hc'd that she'd have psychic empathy, minor clairvoyance, minor mindreading, & telekinesis as a halfa cus it seems the sort of thing she'd have. She comes across as very psychic oriented.

Plus, Spectral Acknowledgement, which is a fun power:

Again, her primary core element could be either water or wind.

I see her having a ghost sense, it being a family thing. However, hers would be different based on her element. If water, it works like sonar & is more close range than Danny's & when it goes off, her eyes get watery, a single stream of tears falling from her eyes. I don't know how it'd manifest with wind, though.

I see Jazz taking the role of a medium as a vigilante. Helping Shades to move on. The Shades I think of is inspired by the ghosts from the Blackwell games & when doing medium things, Jazz tends to do similar things as in the game. Helping the Shades to get to a point where they can move on, which can result in them becoming ecto-ghosts later. However, helping Shades to fulfill whatever is keeping them on earth makes it less likely for them to become ecto-ghosts & more likely to move onto whatever is next. If she just fights them & sucks them up into a thermos, they're more likely to turn into ecto-ghosts & possibly come back. The reason being that emotional attachments, unfinished business, & so on, causes strong, often distressed emotions, which attracts ectoplasm & causes it to stick to a soul. The more ectoplasm sticks to a soul, eventually it'll form a core which is how ecto-ghosts come into being. At least, when spirits of the dead are involved.

For more on the formation of ghosts, go here:

Seriously, the Blackwell series is great & you should definitely go play it or watch someone else play it.

Anyway, Jazz does regular vigilante stuff too, but I feel like this would give her a bit of mystique as a hero. It also meshes well with her therapist focus.

I see her originally patrolling from just before midnight to just after dawn, but after Duke joins, she extended her schedule to midday in case he needs help. She works between midnight & dawn because that's the timeframe where ghosts, spirits, shades, & other such spectral entities are the strongest & cause the most disturbances with 3:00 am being when it peaks.

As for Jason as the Cardinal, I think this would look good for his mask:

Also, one of these hooded jackets:

They're freaking badass!

No helmet & give him a red bird symbol on his chest.

Everything else could match with the second jacket's outfit though.

This is also a really cool design for halfa Jason:

I love the design for his hair, especially the little shadowy flame for that little tuft.

I just really like the idea of Jason with shadow powers, like from @dxrksong.

One of his powers is being able to control his shadow. However, he doesn't have full-on umbramancy. Rather, like I said, he can only control his shadow. At the same time, he can cover himself in it for added protection & it gives him an aura like black flames licking over his skin. He can also make shadowy claws out of them for added melee. It's metal af, okay?

His shadow is controlled entirely by his wants, so it can do a lot of things similar to what Dr. Facilier could in Princess & the Frog.

While he can't control the shadows of others, if he makes his shadow touch other shadows, like if his shadow strangled another person's shadow, it'd result in the owner of said shadow choking for real.

At the same time, saving one's self from said shadow is as simple as shining a bright light all around themselves so that the shadow can't come near.

If they're in an alley at night with no lights, then the shadow can navigate the walls & surfaces unseen as it blends in perfectly.

Can also merge with his shadow & travel through shadows or jump from shadowy spot to shadowy spot.

Also, All-Blades are necessary. I dunno how, but they are.

[zabacore]

draft that my friend (worst enemy) is forcing me to post ;;p

the henry stickmin collection headcanons!

[only doing triple threat bcos thwyre love theyre life theyre god]

henry stickmin !

my little baby boy is white as hell holy shiiiiit. he is as pale as paper he is edward cullen. he says "ni hao" like "knee how" i love him tho. also hes def european or sumn idk. like italian or british IDK

HES SO BICURIOUS ENERGY GROWLS.... IDK. HE JUST SEEMS LIKE. CONFUSED ABOUT EVERYTHING HES SO SILLY. also a he/him user he doesnt get into that mentally ill stuff

thsi is baaaasically canon at this point but hes autistic + selectively mute!!! hes nonverbal a lot no shit hes kindof like ferb.

henry would watch brooklyn 99. idk i cant explain itbut he would. he probbaly wouldnt even understand it rlly he would just watch it

HES SCARED OF TOP HATS HE HIDES BEHIND CHARLES WHEN HE SEES THWM

henry stickmin

charles calvin !

HES ASIAN. SUE ME. IDOTN CARE. SOME SORTA EAST ASIAN MIXED TYPA SHIT. FILIPINO OR TAIWANESE. BUT HES ASIAN!!! FUCK YOU ALEX.

GAY GAY GAYYYYY GAYYYYY MLM!!!! HE IS A GAY HETHEY I DONT CAAARREEEE I DONT CARE!!!! also provably dabbled for a bit as a nonbinary but decided otherwise

soz can u tell charles is my fav character

he has audhd!!!! he definitely likes like the little wiggly slug fidgets giggles like thw ones that go wksjskanwskdjjd. yeah

goes NOWHERE without those headphones. always listenignt o music or smth to keep him focused

he prob has like commitment issues ;p idk he seems lole the type

when he goes to bed he needs like 17 different stuffed animals, two blankets, 5 pillows, white noise, music, a podcast, and a hefty dose of melatonin to fall asleep

wittle bonus stickvin/stickduo hc >< charles and henry are probs soooo like clingy to each other cus charles was like?? the youngest pilot rihjt? so he was probably very lonely and henry spent all his fuckin time commiting crimes so he probably had dno fuckin friends either. CUTESY!!!!

ellie rose !

she was my queer discovery awakening thtas all.

OK NO shes def like puerto rican or sumn ^^ idk they just havw that energyyyyyggggyghbgyghh

LESBIAN SHETHEY I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS ALL MY LIFE. LESBIAN DEMIGIRL SHETHEY ELLIE RISE KISISIES GRILS!!!!!!!

helllaaaaaa attachment issues oh my lrod if she isnr a daddy issues girl idk who is. their dad def like abanoned her adn her mom or sumthin idkkkk

third wheel to stickduo but is nevwr mad about it. isntead she just makws fun of them

"henry dont be a fucking pussy and hold his damn hand" "charles take OFF those goddamn headphones you look like an idiot"

yea she def swears the most out of the group too i lovw her

wine aunt. ill say no more

UMMMMMM YEA I DEF HAVE MROE BUT WHATEVE RDOES THIS SATISFY U ALEX. CAN I HAVE MY FAMILY BACK NOW PLEASDW

[giggly-squiggily]

Oh, oh! Okay! Currently listening to a group called the Overtones, and the sings called 'In the still of the Night', let's go with that as the sentence starter! And I'll throw in Dazai and Chuuya cus (*^▽^)/★*☆♪

Love you, Squiggies! *kith your forehead many times* mwa~ 🩷💕🩷💕🩷

{Puffs are officially CLOSED}

EEEEK RACHI I LOVE THIS!! The song is so good? I didn't know what to expect when I looked it up but my god it's gorgeous! I've gotcha covered!

Song: In The Still Of The Night- Overtones

Chuuya didn’t show off, but he had some serious singing pipes.

“In the still of the night, I held you, I held you tight~” He sang out in a smooth melodious voice, steaming the brims of his hats the way he saw on TV. “‘Cause I love, love you so~”

He was there. Chuuya could feel eyes on him, picture the easy expression Dazai wore as he took him in. The first time he caught Chuuya singing to himself, the redhead could barely look at him.

Now…

“Promise I’ll never let you go.” He turned so his gaze found Dazai’s, something proud and soft mixing in his chest at the smitten expression he brunette wore. “In the still of the night~”

“Don’t stop on my behalf.” Dazai encouraged when Chuuya trailed off. “Keep going.”

“So demanding.” Chuuya stood, putting aside his hats as he walked over to Dazai. With barely a tug, he pulled the taller man into his arms, swaying him. “I remember that night in May, The stars were bright above~”

Dazai hummed along, his voice a low vibration beneath Chuuya’s voice. He pulled Chuuya closer, resting his head against his crown with a content sound. If he pressed his head into his chest, Chuuya was sure he’d feel Dazai’s heart racing.

“I hope and pray to keep, your precious love~”

“You already have it forever.” Dazai spoke in his hair, earning a small pinch to his side.

“Shhh, we’re getting to the good part. Well before the light, hold me again. With all of your might, in the still of the night~”

They carried on like that, Chuuya wrapped in Dazai’s arms and falling further in love with him with each sway of their feet.

He didn’t have to ask if Dazai felt the same. The soft kisses to his crown told him all he needed to know.

[xycuro-illuminati]

[ID: Digital art of Daredevil in his cowboy outfit wearing a black veil and cowboy hat that's is being cut at one side to reveal a section of Matt's face with the DD cowl. He has a shocked expression with the section being burned off. There are pieces of the black veil scattered around him, covered in flames. The background is a dark red while there is a subtle orange lighting crossing the background and Matt's face. Underneath the veil piece in the foreground is a shadow of a chain. End ID]

Local idiot forgot that just bc he came back to life once doesn't mean it'll happen again and is just realizing that. A small breaking point in his criminal cowboy era was Matt realizing that yeah, why the hell is he fighting Ghost Rider of all people. This is during the time when Matt was already falling out of love with George and couldn't stand being around him so this fight was a little reminder that he should definitely leave that man. (I'm this close to buying a black veil and experimenting with it bc how tf does the material burn, google images isn't helping LOL) Bonus, Matt showing up at Foggy's door, begging him to help him divorce his shitty husband:

[ID: Video of a sketch with cowboy Daredevil standing in the rain and Foggy Nelson opening the door to be greeted with a sad pathetic cowboy. There's a cut section of the black veil that shows Matt's sad face. End ID] Sopping wet pathetic man asking for divorce papers DO NOT TAG AS M/CU

[faebhaal]

send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character.

@bloodtwin

Is that really an extra set of ears? do they work? if so does that mean he's got double hearing? hmmm....if a tree falls in the forest would he be the only one to hear it? makes him look like a dog. maybe if I throw Scratch's ball he'll chase after it too..... can I cut them off? shit. shit, no. no don't think about cutting them off and wearing them. that would be messy. I don't see how the ever loving fuck he wears hats. holes in the top? i could put holes in him. puck...luck...duck...fuck, suck, muck...tuck, buck, cu---so many words that rhyme with his name. but it's always dangerously close to puke.

[ghostjelliess]

Cinderella's sassy ass

I'm reading this German version of Aschenputtel and first of all, it's her mom's money. Her dad comes back with a new wife and she doesn't mind cus that's normal, but then they're all just spending all the money and she's getting more stressed as they're dismissing servants. Like, this family has a pidgin coop big enough for a whole person to hide in (it's Cinderella who hides there lol). Anyway, daddy dearest is going to the festival with the boys and asks what they want. Playing into his fantasy charade, the first step sister says jewels and pearls, the second says pretty dresses, and he turns to Cinderella, who has become their maid out of necessity and irritation, refusing to spend her dead mother's money outside the first year of mourning, says the equivalent of "oh, father remembers me? Oh father, a stick, bring me a stick and I shall be happy, the first stick you see, that will be enough for me (...to beat myself to death with because y'all are stupid and we're gonna starve)."

So he goes to the festival for like, actual days, while Cindy-relly cares for the entire estate alone. Her clothes are scrubs, she cooks and cleans and preserves food and plants the garden and is trying her best not to die within the same year as her forgotten mother, while her father dances through the festival with his fellow Rich BrosTM, refusing to listen to her lectures about fiscal responsibility and basically agreeing with the whole family that she's just such a debbie-downer ughhhh gross. So on his way home with his trunks of dresses and jewels, a branch AT THE GATE OF THE HOUSE hits his hat and he's like "oh shiiiiiiit, I forgot about my little Ash-sweeper, damn. Good thing there's sticks everywhere, phew." He breaks off the branch and calls them all down and presents the ridiculous outfits to his new daughters and wife and literally hands Cinderella the branch like "here... you wanted this. I don't know why but you said..." *shakes entire tree limb at her*

Cinder-soot gapes at them all, but takes her new pet with an awkward "an avocado... thaaaaaaaanks..." and sticks it in a vase while chatting with her BFF birds and watching her house fall apart. There's only so much she can do, and boy howdy she's tired of doing it alone. When the hazelnut branch has roots, she goes to plant it on her mother's grave and it grows super fast. These two white doves take up residence in the tree as her leveled-up bird best friends because they get to eat magical hazelnuts that fed on her mom's rotting corpse, but we're just going to brush over that. They live in the pidgin house and grant her wishes and make cleaning way easier, so it's fine.

So the king throws another festival, or whatever, and all the eligible maidens must come. Cinderella is an eligible maiden, she follows rules, she must go. Step-mom agrees, she should go, but ohhhhhh noooooo, I spilled this dish of ash and lentils, you have to pick it all up before you can go. Cinderalla is an eligible maiden who follows all the rules, she must pick up the ash and sort the lentils before she can go. She starts to panic-sing and the birds come help her get all the bits back into the plate. She skips into the room and present her step-mother (who she is bound by household rules and propriety to follow the orders of), excited that she can go. Step-mother takes the dish, genuinely impressed, somewhat confused, and maybe a little concerned, and right in cindy-boo-boo's face, drops it again, "oh shoot... I'm so clumsy... there's no way you'll be ready in time now."

Cinderella is a one-task-minded kind of person though, and she's really set her heart on following the orders of the king, so she starts panic crying a second time, and again, the birds help just like day-one ghosts of her mom should. This time, she runs out with the plate to find her family getting in the carriage to go and her dad waves with a shrug, frowning "you don't have anything nice to wear anyway, kiddo. You wanted that stick, remember? Besides, you can't dance, you'll embarrass us."

What a saint, what a guy, what a special center-fold feature of Daddy Issues.

So she cries by the grave of her mom, by the special magic tree, because they're right. She can't go, she's breaking the law, she's going to be outcasted before she even enters society, stuck as their maid forever. If she tries to join next season, they'll ask where she was at the King's orders, and they'll know she's a Bad Person who doesn't follow the rules, or she'll be killed!

The tree interrupts her pity party, dropping a whole gold and silver ball gown and shoes and the birds chirp. She gets ready and runs to join the festival in town. Her family sees her and thinks she's a foreign princess; the prince sees her and dances with her, and refuses to dance with anyone else because if he let go of her hand, surely another would take it. Another prince tries to cut in while they're chatting and taking a break and our Prince steps in front of her and says "she is my partner."

Ashy-soot-foot got tired and wanted to go home and the Prince says he'll walk her there, he wants to see where such a pretty lady lives, and she laughs and walks for a while, but when they get too close, she hikes up her skirt and sprints away, jumping into the pidgin house while the prince is turned away. The magic birds take her dress and she jumps out the other entrance of the roost and darts inside.

The Prince is left lingering at the wall of their estate, confused, wondering if she was a ghost, when the family arrive. The Prince asks Daddy Darling who lives there, and broski introduces his family, but the Prince describes his Perfect Woman, and the family laughs and says there is only what's-her-face inside. They're all pretty wasted, so they get a bunch of axes and hatches and Papa and Prince literally chop down the pidgin house until they're sure no one is inside. The family enter to find Cinderella at the fire, reading or whatever not-like-other-Girls do and fall into their beds after making fun of her for being malnourished and super-short. The birds do not like this, they start to attack, but ya'girl has had a long day, calling them off.

The next day the same thing happens, but she doesn't whine to join them. She waits for the fam to leave, then runs to the tree and asks for a dress and gets an even prettier one. Skipping to the festival and looking for her charming stalker Prince like a creep, she is happy to see him pouty and glowering at a line of friends pushing him to dance, refusing to have fun or dance with any of them until he sees her. He asks her to dance and again, throughout the whole night, refuses to let anyone else cut in, claiming each time "that's my partner" until they backed off. Again, she got tired and wanted to go home, but this time, he walks her back and follows very closely, keeping a careful eye. But once again, Cindy-swiftfoot gets away, because it's her house and the birds like her and she knows all the secret spots. They're just strolling down a road together, when suddenly, she jumps the low wall, dodges through the kitchen garden of herbs and bushy vegetables, and scampers up into a pear tree as light as a squirrel and the Prince blinks "wondering what became of her" (which means either he lost her again cus it was dark and they're probs drunk OR, my preferred interpretation, he saw her climb the tree and wondered if she was like... a tree-person, or a fairy, or something, just watching her from the garden gate cus it's rude to trespass even though he's a Prince).

Again, the father came home, and drunk papa and prince cut down the tree until they were certain there was no one trapped in it. C-Daddy explains that Cinderella isn't really social, she's like, ugh, responsible and stuff, she would never go to a festival. One time he offered to get her a dress with her dead-mom's fortune and all she wanted was a stupid stick, what a prude.

Cinderella, meanwhile, had either left her dress in the tree for the birds to carry away and jumped down on the other side, in the dark, no longer glittering, so the Prince didn't see her come down, OR used the tree to climb into her room and that's just not something girls in pretty dresses do, so they cut down the tree and probably ate pears for weeks looking for the girl they thought was hiding there. Dad, step-mom, and sisters pop in, all curious and swaying to, once again, find Ashy-Ash putzing around the fireplace, reading or sewing or darning socks or whatever DIY nonsense of the day kept their house standing.

Finally, on the last day of the festival, 'Drella waits for them to leave, goes to the hazelnut grave, and pulls out a dress of moonlight and wonder (which we are assured does come from the magic birds and the hazelnut tree, she is NOT pilfering the grave goods of her dead princess-mom). She goes to the festival and meets her Prince for her last day, because the house won't last, and the king's orders were only for the festival, but it's nice to feel wanted each time he starts a new dance with her; it's nice to be spoken to as an equal, as someone with thoughts and dreams and goals and not the scourge of Satan ruining all the fun. The night ends and the Prince goes to walk her home, but her plan to escape him on the final day is just to sprint as fast as she can away from him. It works, because she is small but stupid-fast. She rushes past him in a blur, already too far ahead to catch, and the Prince sighs, absolutely smitten.

But he's not dumb. He knew she would run, and he knew the vague direction she would go, since he'd walked her almost-home twice. He had coated the alley stairs in pitch to stop her from running away, and it also works. Cinderella's foot gets stuck in the sticky mess, but, unexpectedly to the royal Prince, but second nature to the rowdy keeper-of-all-things Aschenputtel, she just steps out of the shoe, leaving it behind. This is ridiculous, people don't walk barefoot, they don't leave golden shoes behind! But already she is gone and the stubborn Prince has only a conjured shoe left behind.

The next day he goes to Cinderella's father's house with the shoe. She lives there somewhere, three times she disappeared on their property. He pounds on the door and says he will marry the beautiful woman who lives there and fits the shoe, right now! The vicar is in the car waiting, let's go, bring her out!

Taking the shoe, the step-mother retreats to her daughters' room, holding the shoe out to the eldest as they all giggled about their luck. But the shoe was too small, and even though they were very proud of their beautiful feet (because Cinder-foot did all the walking), the step-mother tells her to cut off her pinky toe so the shoe fits, when she's queen, she'll never have to walk anyway. She does, happily, and the Prince, confused but convinced by the shoe, reluctantly walks her to his horse, ready to ride all the way to the castle.

But those meddling birds, absolutely hating the sisters, start crying and picking at her feet, until the Prince sets chivalry aside enough to look at what all the fuss is about, and finds her foot bleeding all up in his precious shoe, gross! He stomps back to the house, tosses her in, and tells them to try again. The step-mother convinces the second sister to cut off a slice of her heel to fit the shoe, and again, the Prince believes them and walks her to his horse, lifting her up and riding past the grave, until the birds attack her feet before they reach the gate, and he finds his mysterious maiden's golden shoe scarlet and ruined with their blood. He turns the horse around and rides directly up to the door, pushing the sister off, "this is the wrong one. I'll let you try one more time." It is a threat, and the father hears it.

The father stutters forward, confused and hungover and annoyed that all they have to eat are pears, still trying to find whoever cut down his pidgin coop, points to his wife and step-daughters, "these are the only people here. There are no servants. My last wife left a daughter, but she's a runt, it's impossible you met her, she's tiny and ugly, and doesn't know how to have fun. She doesn't go to festivals, and one time I asked her what she wanted, like a dress, or a trinket, or a mirror, and all she wanted was a--"

"A stick, yes, you said." The Prince narrows his eyes down at the father, sighing with a snap of his fingers, "bring her out."

"Oh, no way, she's all dirty. Covered in dirt and ash and gross." The entire family tries to explain at once, "it would be far too embarrassing to present her to you, your royal highness."

The Prince smiles stiffly, glancing at the ruined shoe sitting in a bloody puddle on the stoop, resting his hand on the sword at his hip while even his beloved horse rolls its eyes. But they really don't want to bring her out, so he finally sighs and dismounts, boots creaking, "it's an order."

Cinderella's sisters drag her through the kitchen, doing their best to trip her and cover her in dust and flour as they wrangle her to the door, explaining that it was a prince's orders. Humiliated at her appearance covered in sweat and dirt and dough, dirt under her nails, her hair still greasy from the night before, wooden clogs on from weeding the dewy herb garden, Cinderella digs her heels in, wiping her face on her apron, cleaning herself up as much as she can while the sisters laugh at her. They toss her in front of the Prince, sending her jolting into his chest as she leaps over the stark red shoe, her wooden clogs thudding loudly off her small feet.

Eager not to be tricked a third time, the Prince ignores chivalry and points to the shoe, urging her to try it on without getting excited. She slides her foot in, revealing a perfect fit (OR pulls out her own golden slipper which she'd kept as a keepsake), and the Prince, not quite ready to believe anyone yet, scoops her into a dance, spinning her around the yard and then into a hug, proclaiming that this is the right one, this is his maiden! He knows her despite the rags and dirt, and she could definitely whoop all they asses in a run and if they don't let them go in peace. He will make them race for the title. The two step-sisters, profusely bleeding from their open wounds, stop holding her back and the Prince pulls her onto his horse, probably flipping off the father, as the birds soar above them as they leave the house. As they passed the grave, the hazel bush wilts in a final farewell, the last of the magic used up, her mother finally at peace with Cinderella's freedom.

The day of their wedding arrives and Cinderella sits like a queen in her chariot as she is paraded through the city toward the church, every bit as splendid as her mother once was, back straight and proud, the white birds perched on each shoulder. As her mother's fortune was squandered the minute she left the house, her step-sisters jump at her, desperate to curry favor, for if she only recognized them publicly, they could be the sisters of the Princess. The eldest step-sister limps on her right side, the youngest on her left, but Cinderella does not greet them. They reach for her, enraged, and the birds on her shoulder each pecked at at eye; Aschen-Put-Your-Eye-Out does not call them off. The screaming sisters let go as the procession approaches the church.

After the ceremony, Cin-D-rella emerges with her new husband, and again, her step-sisters lunge forward, demanding the recognition of the Prince and Princess, the crowd surging around them in confusion. The Prince looks at his new wife's stony expression and shrugs beside her "I've never seen these people in my life." The guards move in to drag the sisters away, but before they can, the ghost-birds peck out their other eye in repayment for all the apologies they owed. Cinderella waltzes easily down the cathedral steps beside her Prince, smiling at all the ways they might make their kingdom better economically, the Prince joking that he might not be able to catch her if she runs away again, but his horse could... probably, and the family that took advantage of the only responsible person in their party was left to suffer the rest of their lives in all the ways they'd once mocked Cinderella, stooped short and streaked with dirt.