#does iron make stool black

[diet2all]

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[yurinaa-world]

“𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝒹!”

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Jiaoqiu, Moze, Aventurine, & Sunday x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: he's turned into a kid?

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒥𝒾𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓊 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔"

“Jiaoqiu, that's enough sweets for you.”

You're worried, truly. Jiaoqiu has this insane sweet tooth, at this rate, when he turns back into an adult his teeth will be black, sore, and full of cavities by then and of course, you’ll be to blame for being unable to resist his cuteness.

His tail sinks and his ears frown down whilst he sits on the stool with his head down in sadness while you lecture him about his health and give him restrictions. Child Jiaoqiu doesn’t know better at all, refusing to talk or do anything after this revelation came out. (he burns his mouth as an adult & numbs his moth as a kid, how ironic)

He thinks you’re just a jerk, ruining his fun and not having any kind of love for him left so he returns you the same attitude (even though you're doing it for his sake). Huffing while putting the candy on a tall cabinet. “Come on, Let's go get dinner.” you offered, after a sigh left your lips at the grimace look he had on yet even with this offer he refused, snapping his head to the side and not even looking back. 

“I’m not going, not unless you give me my candy back.”

Well, you can see his eyes shifting to the side, seeing if you cared enough to listen to his little demands of wanting Cavities and landing himself in a Yaoqing local dentist's office because of your weakness for his pleads. BUT, not this time, no way are you letting him have his way.

“Jiaoqiu,” you mumbled his name as you walked over to him, your tall figure looming over him, casting a shadow which even caused him to be frightened. Staring back up with doe eyes before shutting them the instant you raised your hand.

“Stop it!” he wined, feeling your finger gently pinch and pull at his ear in discipline, while you grinned down at him before your other hand went to touch his stomach which caused him to jerk back a little. 

“You better be grateful that I love you so much or else I would have let you riot your stomach away with those sweets.”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

He looked so cute! His little form hiding in the corner while glaring at you with such weary, that you might just shatter from it. He looked so cute as a kid! But Moze turning into a little kid wasn’t what you expected but here you are, sitting a bit far from the corner, and refusing to leave him.

His one arm had bandages on it, several bandaids everywhere, along with cloth taped onto his cheek. A sad appearance that an ordinary child shouldn’t have but it’s Moze and you already have an idea of what kind of life he’s lived.

Smiling at him every time he moves his head up to look up at you, which causes him to just glare and lay his face back onto the knees he’s brought close to his chest.

“Your smile makes you look stupid,” he mumbled the sound of his voice slightly muffled by his knees.

Wow…you can’t help but be left speechless by his words, Moze had never once insulted you—in his words, he would rather die than do something like that. Yet with this predicament he’s in, you’ll let it go (and his cute face).

“Does it make me seem less threatening to you?”

“Don’t think I’ve let my guard down, it’s always the idiots that are most threatening.” He begins going on a rant, you’re not even sure what he’s going on about but it’s just like any other kid with a hyper fixation on things, and he’s prepared to scare you on everything.

“It’s known that you should never suck the poison out of a wound with your mouth….”

It just gives you an opening to get closer to him.

Like a snake in the bushes, you get close enough to the corner, trapping him there. He let his guard down! Clenching his teeth waiting for your next action and thinking how he’ll counter it if he could.

“You're so cute, Moze!” You gush, wrapping your arms around his neck while rubbing your cheek against his and giving him loving kisses all over his face. He’s in complete shock, eyes wide with his mouth agape while his body freezes at your actions.

“I could just take you away!”

your approach is odd...It must be love bombing! people like you don’t exist and like a fool stated your reason! Wait you’re taking it a bit too far! Stop smothering his face with kisses!

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃��𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉”

“It’s so cold.”

He was adorable, his beautiful eyes had so much life to them, cute face, he wore rags for clothes while hugging his shivering body to keep himself warm in some way, which broke your heart.

 “Is it cold? wait for a second!” You immediately run to get a blanket to warm him up with, wrapping it around him and making sure no air gets in. Watching him still shiver in the blanket, it would take time for him to even warm up in the first place, Yet you hear his sniffles and slight whines.

Which causes you to do the only thing you can.

Firmly holding Aventurine close to you, having him in your lap, you hugged him very close as if he would slip away. Taking your hand and touching his smaller ones, the cold flesh made you shiver as well, like a shock when you first touched, both of your body temperatures clashed.

He enjoyed it while you shivered.

“Do you feel less cold now?” You smile at him, watching him hold your hand close to his body so he can feel the heat more.

“It feels so nice. Thank you.”

He smiled back at you, and your smile got wider, feeling the connection between the two of you. Watching his eyes quickly begin to droop, sleep taking him away while keeping him in your lap, and gently caressing his head.

“I’ll take care until you turn back, even if it takes forever.”

💫𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝒶𝓀 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎"

Watching little Sunday gush over a simple picture book you had lying around, looking at it with stars in his eyes, and going “ah” or “oooh” while his wings flipped when tiny twists happened in the story. It's too cute! It's good that he took a day off but not when he was turned into a little kid! And it’s not like you can make him go to work like this, can you?

“On Friday he ate through five oranges, but he was still hungry.” he reads, a confused expression plaguing his face, while he takes in the words

“He eats so much? (Name), do you know why he eats so much?” 

His question might’ve just gone in one ear and out the other, watching his confused expression while his wings flapped, It’s too cute! 

Normal Sunday is always to control himself in every situation, never letting himself go in front of anyone else but you and his wings are a big part which causes him to restrain himself to the fullest extent.

The second he sees you staring at his wings for a tad bit longer than you should have, his cheeks turn a rosy pink color—feeling insecure about your gaze on him, his hands going to his wings, gently touching the feather while shifting his gaze to the side in pure embarrassment.

“Is there something wrong with my wings? Are they ugly?” He moped, which made you immediately reassure him. “Of course not! You're so adorable in every way!” you sputtered, trying your best to make him feel better, which made you calm down when his expression twisted into a gleeful expression.

“Really you think so?” he chirped, losing his attention from the book he was reading, it seemed like he wanted to hear more sugary compliments.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[lexical-lushes]

A Lesson Learned

“Sit still, dear, this is delicate work.”

I do my best to obey, trying to shut out the tickle of my Maker’s tools like I would any other sensation. It doesn’t do me much good – my phylactery is sensitive in a way my vessel isn’t, and no matter how hard I try to ignore it the work of sealing the little cracks in that vibrant purple gemstone buzzes inside me like an electric arc.

Despite myself, I fidget restlessly, and my Maker’s patience grows thin.

“If you can’t sit still on your own, I’ll need to disconnect your phylactery entirely. Now behave, dear.”

The threat of being pulled into that absent blackness does its job – I find it in me to ignore the buzzing, jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other. My Maker gives an approving little noise, then continues on with her work, tone softening once more.

“There’s a good doll. You know what would have happened if you’d succeeded.”

I give the slightest nod, still focused on keeping still, on not flinching away from the sizzle her iron makes as it carefully and precisely seals the cracks in my phylactery, whispering the artifact whole again. If I’d succeeded, I’d be dead.

“I’m nearly done, now, dear. Just a moment longer to make sure the mounting is still set correctly.”

I close my eyes, let the ticking of my metronome provide me some meager stability. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the buzzing in my soul fades and I can feel my Maker pull away, feel her satisfaction with her work.

“There. You can relax now, dear.”

With a gentle sigh, I open my eyes again, let my jaw relax, let my breathing resume. I take a moment to reaffirm my surroundings – sat on the edge of a workbench in my Maker’s studio, stripped of my clothes, one arm wrapped in a brace to prevent the spiderweb of fractures that reach all the way up to my chest from worsening. My Maker is sat turned away from me on a tall stool, carefully replacing the iron in the appropriate drawer.

Turning back towards me, she slips one of many tuning forks out of her work apron, twirling it between her fingers. I say nothing, but I feel a blush creep across my face, warmth tinging my cool porcelain skin at the thought of what must be coming next.

“Yes, dear,” she says, catching my reaction. “I’m going to need to tune you.”

“Just stay relaxed and let yourself sink into it... there’s a good doll...”

She taps one talon against the tip of the fork, sets it singing, and leans in to gently press it into one of my aetheric hooks – I can’t help but do as she says, sinking, sinking, feeling my consciousness pulled inwards towards my phylactery, leaving my vessel a hazy afterthought.

I can feel her winding one of my threads, feel the tune of her fork vibrate into me, her intent a hypnotic, drowning tide that pours in along the thread, filling me up until at last I can take no more, resist no more, and I fall inward, into the comforting warmth of a trance.

...and then I’m wide awake again.

“Such a good doll...” my Maker reassures me, gently stroking one hand through my silver hair, cupping my cheek. I realize I must have been crying – my face is wet against her hand.

“W-what...” I stammer, trying to gauge how long I was entranced. It can’t have been too long – the beam of sunlight that enters the studio through it’s tall, narrow window has only inched across the floor.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright dear. I just had to make a few changes to you. I can’t have one of my dolls hurting herself, now, can I?”

I frown. Hurting myself? Had I...? No, no, that would be silly. Even the thought of it made me recoil instinctively, the fear of a rebuke sharp in my mind for considering the mere possibility.

...Wait.

Oh. Of course. I realize immediately what my Maker meant by her words – I’d had a new rule implanted in me.

Something must have shown in my expression, because my Maker nods softly, tipping her talons beneath my chin and raising my violet eyes to meet her brilliant amber ones.

“Most of my dolls know better than to damage themselves all on their own,” she explains, “but sometimes these things happen. Do you remember why I needed to repair you, dear?”

I start to shake my head, then stop, pausing to examine myself. My right arm is fractured, kept safe in a brace. I experimentally test my fingers, and find them stiff, barely responsive. The mechanisms must be quite damaged. I close my eyes and trace my self-image up from the near-paralyzed arm, up and up, across my chest where the cracks spread and blossom...

I try to imagine what might have caused this sort of damage, but nothing comes.

“...I don’t remember,” I finally admit uncertainly.

My Maker smiles softly, nods. “Good. I’ll tell you, but I didn’t feel it appropriate to leave you with the memory itself. You beat yourself to breaking against a wall, dear. You wailed and wailed and smashed yourself, and then you tried to smash your phylactery. I found you, afterwards, all pulled into yourself, and I took you home to fix you.”

I can hardly believe what she’s saying. I... I tried to destroy myself? Why would I... how could I? A doll should never harm herself.

(Dimly, I remember that that last part is a recent command, a compulsion implanted deep into my soul. It doesn’t matter – I feel it strongly all the same.)

Finally, I find the words to ask my Maker why I had tried to... to kill myself.

She answers with a question of her own, and once again I’m frozen as I realize I don’t know the answer.

“Dear, do you remember why you sold yourself to me? Why you had me make you into a doll?”

How... how could I forget something like that? How could I forget when it had only been a few months? I can vividly recall my life as a human, recall the process of being made into a doll, the blissful feeling of my soul being gently pried from my body and nestled snugly into my phylactery, of my vessel being transfigured from flesh and blood into ceramic and glass and brass, given life by my Maker’s magic...

But when I tried to recall what had driven me to such a permanent decision, I found only a dull ache of longing surrounding a hazy nothingness.

My Maker waits patiently, and under her gaze I feel compelled to try harder to provide a satisfying answer to her question.

Biting my lip, I try to feel out the space around the haze. I remember being... dissatisfied with my life, with who I was, and at how little my attempts to change it seemed to matter. I remember a feeling of elated certainty that this was the way, this was what I had been looking for. I remember... remember...

She must have been very careful in excising the memories she’d asked me to locate, because when I finally find an answer, it’s only in the outline of what’s missing.

The look of pained realization in my eyes proves all the response my Maker requires of me; gently, tenderly, she pulls me to her chest, lets me cry and whimper against her, whispers gentle reassurances. It would be too painful, she tells me, to make you bear those memories. You know everything you need to know about what happened.

I fight it at first, recoil at the idea of being left with a hole in my memory like this. But as she cradles me close and kisses my perfect silver hair and fusses at my broken arm, promises to make me good as new, I realize that she’s right.

Her talons stroke me gently, trailing up and down my spine in a lazy circuit as she hugs me close. Her voice is like a lullaby at this point, drawing out the ache and tension until I feel my springs start to unwind, feel a comfortable weight creep into my vessel as all my strings go limp.

“You’re a good doll, dear... such a good doll. You have a purpose now, alright? Dolls all have a purpose. And you’ll never forget that.”

I nod tiredly, sniffling, aware I’m leaking all over her apron.

She doesn’t seem to mind.

Before long, I’m at peace.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Old dog, new tricks - Kaz Brekker x Reader

SUMMARY: Looking for someone to give you a quote on a stolen painting, you find yourself reaching out to a middle-man called Dirtyhands or the Bastard of the Barrel. Little do you know, you've met him before. A long, long time ago...

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

It's pouring in Ketterdam. Black clouds cover the sky, hanging so low it looks like the bell towers scrape them. Thunder rolls in the distance. Some say that rain is refreshing, that it cleanses body, mind and soul. Perhaps it does but not in Ketterdam - the rainwater only leaves pedestrians feeling dirtier as though the coal-coloured clouds tainted it. The air begins to smell in an odd way as if the water washes something foul before falling to the cobbled streets; something not quite alive that can’t seem to die. But perhaps those somber words are true and thunderstorms truly do cleanse. In that case, it isn’t some largely unknown flesh rotting away but the sins of the city and its people washing the streets before falling down the drain like many things do in Ketterdam.

Those who can, flee the streets into the warm confines of their homes. Hats, umbrellas, even newspapers - anything just to keep the dirty water out of their faces. Some of them would mutter a swear word between pants and grunts as they made haste to the nearest shelter. Those who can’t, however, do not seem any grumpier than they usually do. For them, it’s just another day of soaking in the black rainwater stained with the unspoken secrets of the citizens. Wrapping worn-out coats tighter around their famished bodies, they cuddle the cold, stone walls a little closer before letting out a tired sigh. 

On days like this, bars and pubs earn their most delicious coin. If someone’s home is too far, a brewery is a great place to be with a good drink, a good game and tolerable food. Among the rather large group of workers, traders and unfortunate pedestrians is the most curious stranger. She stops for a moment to look above the heads, at the crow cast from iron hanging above the entrance. Dressed in a foundry worker's clothes and a patchy coat, she fits the landscape of Ketterdam like a glove. Soon, the stranger followers the other patrons inside.

Thunderstorm or not, the bar looks rather cosy and fashionable, considering its location and clientele. The standard was high enough to make the working class feel good about themselves instead of inadequate.

You squeeze through invigorated, already quite drunk, groups of people who have become friends the moment they accidentally sat at the same table. Some bump into you but they never apologize - hard to say where they can’t or won’t. Others, the sober and brighter ones, notice their pouches gone after some time when they go to make another bet. Furious, they throw their hands at the first miser their accusatory finger points to. Despite that, they do not see you, even if they do look. To all those poor bastards gambling and drinking their life away, you're nothing beyond a mirage dancing in the corner of their eye; a fleeting thought that you saw something but can't quite articulate the nature of the illusion. And just like the bar patrons, you, too, quickly dismiss the mare as a trick of the imagination. Just as soon as the thought of the phantom disappears, its place is taken by severely mundane things: a pint of beer, a frivolous smile of a scam artist, a suspiciously good streak of a cocky man.

By the bar sits a man with a top hat at his side. While all the other workers are busy losing their money, that one simply sits there with his back turned to the rest of the room. A bottom-up, empty glass is placed beside his hand. The man is waiting.

Sitting down on the stool next to him, you don’t let your eyes leave the prize. "You look like you've been around, good sir.”  The stranger turns to look at you. A spark of amusement glistens in his eyes. His brow lifts ever so slightly, beckoning you to continue. “Tell me, where can I find a man called Bastard of the Barrel?"

He turns his whole body towards you, leaning his arm on the bar counter. "Boss is pretty busy these days, you know? Might not have the time or desire to see you."

You give him a flustered smile, trying to appear a little too stupid to be cunning. "I won't take too much of his time,” you reassure him quickly. “If you could please pass the message to him that I have a painting from the Greaves' collection. I'm looking for someone who can give me a quote."

"That Greaves' collection?” he repeats. His face momentarily lights up as he surely sees right through your facade. “I thought it was impenetrable."

"They say that about every prison, don't they? And yet the world is as it is."

The man stares at you for a moment, his fingers frantically tapping the counter. Clearly, you’ve got someone’s interest. But will it be enough? 

"Quote or not, I think he'll be interested in this. Come on."

Without waiting for your response, he takes his top hat and leaves, walking past you towards a small staircase in the corner of the bar. You quickly follow in his footsteps, never getting too far from the man - you’re to appear as nothing more but his shadow.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a streak of darkness move like a plant’s leaf swaying gently when there is no breeze. Curious, you follow the disturbance to what seems to be its source - a young woman dressed in dark robes. Leaning against a wall, in the corner where the yellow light doesn’t quite reach where it should, she’s impossible to notice to anyone who doesn’t know what to look for. In that spare moment, she notices you too.

Having walked up the stairs, your guide knocks thrice on the door but doesn’t wait for an answer before opening them. There, in the small office littered with papers, you notice a face so familiar and yet strange you begin to question your own sanity. Could it be…? 

It’s like staring at a winter landscape during a toasty, summer day - you know the fields in front of you are the same but at the same time, they will never be more different. His face is more serious than you remembered. Strong, sharp features accompany his light eyes to create a truly chilling demeanour of a seasoned man. Despite undoubtedly looking like a handsome, young man, a spectre of a boy he used to be lingers beneath his skin.

Feeling lost and shocked, you frantically tear the hood off your head. "Kaz?” you’re not sure whether you’re asking him or yourself. “Kaz Brekker?!"

His eyes widen momentarily. Before he knows it, Kaz jumps to his feet, having to lean against the desk because of his leg. He doesn’t seem any less surprised, although he does appear to be better at hiding it - at least on his face. "You sly old fox,” he says in a low voice. Something akin to a smirk curved a corner of his lips upwards. “You just won't die, will you?"

You can’t help but scoff. After all those years of wondering whether he’s even alive, you find him in a complete accident. "As much as I'd love to see you crying over me, I like being a nuisance a bit more."

"You know each other?" the man, whose name you still do not know, vaguely points between you and Kaz.

To your mutual, utmost surprise, the two of you answer simultaneously: "We used to." The shock seems to drown out the hint of nostalgia and regret in your voices.

“Right…” he nods slowly. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

And before you know it, the door shuts and it’s just you and him. On one hand, again, but on the other - for the very first time. The words used to dance in a merry-go-round inside your head. Painful, yet truthful. Yes, you used to know Kaz like no one else. It sounds, you realize, as though the last time you had met, it was a different world, a different lifetime. To some degree, it’s true.

“What are you doing in here?” Kaz asks curtly. You can’t help but find his tone angry, almost accusatory. A strand of his hair falls on his face.

Unwilling to face the responsibility of years of silence, you settle for half-hearted jokes. “Your office or Ketterdam in general?”

“Both, preferably.”

Has he always been this incandescent or has longing simply white-washed him in your memories?

“Same as you it seems - work,” you say with a shrug. For a moment, the two of you stare at each other, unsure what to make of this unforeseen reunion. Then, you let out a tired sigh. If you have changed as little as you think so, he can definitely see right through you. “I won’t lie to you, Kaz, this isn’t a social call. I come here in business. I stole a canvas from Jurgen Greaves’ private collection and I’m looking for someone who can give me a quote.”

Kaz clenches his jaw. His blue eyes stare into you, maybe through you, as he clearly ponders something. Before continuing, he sits down. “I know an art dealer who might be interested. But first, you’re going to tell me everything.” Do not be mistaken - it’s an order, not a request. Truthfully, he got out of the habit of asking and pleading.

"It's a long story and a lot less interesting than I'd like to admit."

"We've all night,” he states. Not letting his gaze falter, Kaz gestures to the chair across from him. He still doesn’t take no for an answer.

He’s absolutely furious but only partially at you. It’s mostly his lack of understanding that gets on his nerves - the girl he remembered, a skilled and beautiful woman now, could have anything she wanted if she only asked. So why would you choose this path? With pearls and servants within arms reach, what are you doing in the Barrel, among murderers and liars? The surname of Greaves' resounds in his head, only fuelling his frustration: not only did Ketterdam dare to taint you, but you've also made good friends with that black stain of filth.

His chest clenches and Kaz feels disgusted for a moment. The parasite of corruption has nested under your skin, spewing its venom into your veins.

“Oh, don’t make me blush.” Although your dismissal is nothing beyond a jest, you still sit in the appointed chair. Maybe you want answers too, after all.

Still staring at you with that stern, cold gaze of his, Kaz sits back in his chair, clearly unwilling to end this conversation anytime soon. 

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors LOOK THE OTHER WAY

Ch 007: Buckle Up, Baby

A night in the town with Eddie takes a spicy turn when an outfit on display catches your eyes. And what do ya know? It’s your exact measurement…

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 3.5k words

disclaimers & warnings — dialogue heavy, arguing, trauma dumping again, angst, yearning, shy girl yelling at eddie (as she should), sexual tension, grinding, thigh riding, car canoodling 🫣

“She’s a black magic woman, she’s trying to make a devil out of me.”

♡

Spellbinding is the best word you can think of to describe Nocturna, a town spookier than Hawkins just 20 minutes inland. It sure lives up to its name, with the average closing time for restaurants, bars, and shops being 3:30 AM.

“This city is so cute,” you beam. “Love the late night vibe it’s got going on.”

“Right?” Eddie agrees. “If Hawkins were a Spencer’s, ‘Turna would be the back of it.”

Eds takes you to El Diablo Bar & Grill where you settle for a ‘TURNA Tossed salad’ and beer. ‘The Eddie Special’ may have left you full, but there’s no way you’d ever pass up free food.

Your boss helps himself to a couple of beers as well, both of them way too hoppy for your liking. And just as you predicted, downing two of those bad boys after smoking a shit ton of weed has its repercussions.

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?”

Personal space is a foreign concept for Eddie whenever he’s under the influence. Not like that’s any new information. You just didn’t expect him to be so tender, affectionately fiddling with your hair, using it as a mustache, and then attempting to braid it. You’re surprised because he actually does pretty well.

“Where’d you learn how to braid?” you ask.

“Taught myself,” he replies. “That way if Nancy ever calls out, someone at Hellfire would at least know how to do hair. Luckily I haven’t ran into that problem yet.”

“That’s really thoughtful,” you swoon as Eddie goes to braid your other side.

“I’m also learning how to curl hair,” Eddie adds. “If I could get past burning myself with the iron, that’d be great. Until then, I’ll always vouch for a traditional sock bun.”

You watch has he loops your hair around itself to secure the braid, just as he did the first one. Then comes the unpredictable. Suddenly, you’re taken aback when Eddie gives your hair a tug. Aggressively.

“Eddie!” you cry out.

He spirals into an outrageous belly laugh.

You shove Eddie away from you in a playful form of disgust, his dramatics launching him right out of his seat. Customers start to look your way. You hide your face in embarrassment.

“I think you’ve flown off the handle,” you accuse.

“No,” he denies. “Just comfortable that’s all.”

“Yeah and a bully,” you hiss, undoing your braids out of spite. He knows you’re kidding around.

“What?” Eddie questions, reeling you in via bar stool, smirk growing more and more prominent the closer you get. “You don’t like that I pull hair?”

“That’s enough, you little freak.”

Eddie stops, jokingly wincing at your harsh words. "Thought you were into freaks."

"...Shut up,” is all you can think to say.

"Come on..." he taunts, giving your side a soft pinch. “You know I'm right."

He is right.

You poke his stomach with one of your pointy fingers.

"Okay, and what if I was? Does that get you off? Mr. Know-It-All?”

Eddie clears his throat and squirms in his seat.

"No, actually,” he shakes his head, leaning into your touch. “Cuz that's just not true.”

Your eyes find each other again.

An apology lingers in the air. Eddie bites his lower lip as he stares, closing the gap between you two with a slight turn of his knee. You explore his dark irises, his wide pupils. When fixated on you, they emit what appears to be sorrow, with just a pinch of regret.

"Sometimes I'm wrong. And I fuck up,” he admits. “Whether I like to admit it or not."

Eddie chugs the remainder of his pint before slamming it.

You shrug. “Yeah. Like when you told me to get off my phone today but stayed on yours the entire time.”

Eddie chuckles away from you.

“Playing music…” you persist, leaning into him a little more. “Texting people…”

“You jealous?” he questions, tongue rolling around in his cheek.

“In your dreams,” you lie.

You’re so close to him now you can practically smell the beer. He inches closer, the front portion of his curly locks tickling the side of your face.

“In your dreams.”

Your thighs clench. In your dreams, indeed. Eddie winks at you like he knows.

“Whatever you say,” you scoff. “Freak.”

———— 🌹————

After dinner, you and Eddie decide to walk around the shopping strip. Eddie walks closest to the street, leaving you on the innermost part of the sidewalk like a gentleman.

“So who’s Wayne? Heard you and Henry talking about him before we left.”

“He's my uncle,” Eddie answers. “Pretty much raised me since I was a kid. I owe a lot to him.”

You continue to walk. Somehow along the way, you and Eddie end up strolling with your arms around each other. He turns to ask,

“Who is Max?”

“Max?” you’re stunned to hear that name roll off his tongue. Despite him helping with her YMCA membership, you had always registered them as being worlds apart from each other. “She’s my sister.”

Eddie slowly nods in understanding.

“Her full name is Maxine,” you explain. “Max for short.”

“No wonder,” Eddie chuckles. “I always hear you mentioning a Max and have been wondering who that is.”

“You jealous?” you echo him.

He sneers, “You wish.”

You take this time to admire Eddie. His wanderlust eyes. His pronounced Cupid’s Bow. His thick, wavy locks. The tiny freckle at the crook of his neck that you were sure a lover left for him in a past life. The way his dark clothes always seem to hug him so nice. He’s breathtaking. The hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

"WHOA!" Eddie brings you back. "That's the hottest shit I've ever seen!"

There he goes again. You race after Eddie as he scampers across the street, leading you to what appears to be a lingerie-slash-sex shop. On display is a beautiful scarlet red two piece with fluffy wings behind it to match.

DEVIL WOMAN, is what the set is advertised as.

"Whew, lord," Eddie whistles, pressing his hands against the plexiglass.

He turns to you desperately.

"You can make SO many tips with this on," Eddie insists. "I'm telling you right now woman, you need to seize this opportunity."

"Are you gonna pay for it?" you joke, batting your lashes seductively.

"Sure!" Eddie exclaims. "A-anything you want tonight, you'll get."

It sounds too good to be true.

"Not you trying to spoil me..."

"Definitely me trying to spoil you,” a sneaky smirk forms across his face yet again. “Especially since I’ve been an asshole lately.”

It’s a fair bargain. Not like you can deny it either.

You two shake hands, deal, and make your merry way inside Madame Sédutrice’s Love Boutique.

Time to make his pockets — and heart — hurt.

————💋 ————

It fits you like a glove.

Everything is just right. There is no free space, but there is some real estate to breathe. The set is also squat and split proof. Perfect for a good show.

You strut in front of the mirror like a Victoria’s Secret Devil, relishing over how well the fiery red set accentuates your bust, hugs your hips, and highlights the cheekiest parts of your ass with just enough coverage to have the men wondering.

To leave Eddie wondering.

You’re parading around some more, taking selfies at all angles while Eddie talks to the cashier about guitars. Eventually he does circle back around, as you've been in here for a long period of time.

"Shy Girl," Eddie checks on you from outside. "Did you die in there?"

You put your phone away.

"No, but you're about to."

He laughs. "I love the confidence. Let me at her."

You pull the curtain over so that Eddie can see.

“Jesus fuck.”

Eddie sinks down to his knees, the tips of his fingers trailing from your hips to your thighs, down to your calves. He’s being dramatic again, you think, evident by the three bows of resignation he gives you as he continues to take in your beauty.

"What do you think?" you ask him.

"Simply out of this world," Eddie gasps. He stands to spin you around like he once did before. "You look... like an absolute fantasy. Destined for some alternate dimension."

His breathing heightens as his rough hands trail down to your birthmark. And soon, you’re up there with him.

“I can already see you on that stage,” Eddie gushes. “Doing your thing, stealing the show, driving customers wild. The spotlight soaking in all your beauty...”

“The version of me living in your head sounds pretty damn cool,” you giggle.

You snake your arms around the nape of his neck. Eddie blushes. “She’s a lot like the girl in front of me, actually.”

Either of you can let go now. But you both don't.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks.

"Mmm… I don't think I'm done just yet," you bat your eyes once more. "What’s a set like this without some accessories?"

You grab his hand and he watches in shock — almost starstruck by you — when you manually wrap his hand around your neck.

“Like a necklace of sorts,” you continue. “A choker, maybe?”

“A choker,” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He gives you a teasing, gentle squeeze. You’re an absolute puddle.

He grins at you connivingly, playfully.

"Lead the way, m'lady. Anything you want tonight is yours.”

———— 🔥 ————

Satisfied is an understatement. You’re strutting back to Eddie’s van now as he trails closely behind, hauling shopping bags that belong to you in each hand.

“Thank you Eddie,” you say as he manages to open the door for you too.

“Anytime, Princess,” he insists.

You get settled on the passenger side while Eddie starts the van back up again. He waits for a while in his seat.

“You looked stunning in that piece,” Eddie raves, the image of you strutting around still living in his head. “I almost don’t want you to wear it anymore.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What? Why?”

“I wanna be the only one who gets to see you in it,” he explains.

“Gatekeeper much?”

“No, I’m just selfish,” he says. “Especially when you look like that.”

Eddie takes it upon himself to fasten your seatbelt for you.

Your eyes trail along as he clicks it in place, adjusting the seatbelt so that it laid perfectly and untangled, protecting your hips…shielding your chest…

“My eyes only, you know?”

“Just yours?”

“Mhm,” he strains. “Mine and only mine.”

His gentle eyes are begging, glued to your lips like bees to honey. His tongue pokes out again, and you watch as he licks his lips in lust. Fuck. You can’t help it anymore. You decide to lean into him and try again.

But hostile air stops you in your place. There's fear in that man's eyes the closer you get and he pulls away from you.

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

You swat the rest of him away. “You’re doing it again.”

Eddie sighs in defeat.

"I know."

The fact that you didn’t have to elaborate is very telling. Eddie is not stupid. He knows the game he’s playing.

You watch with zero sympathy this time as Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He lifts a hand. You flinch. Then you relax again when you realize the man isn’t trying to hit you.

“I’m VERY aware of what I’m doing, Hargrove. Okay? That’s the worst part.”

“And you think it’s okay? You like stringing me along, is that it?”

“There’s MORE TO IT, alright?” he groans. “I just don’t know how to explain it to you just yet.”

Eddie starts up again.

“I…” he says, his haunted eyes sparkling. “I just. CAN’T. get. involved. with a coworker. Let alone someone who works under me. Think of all the legal issues that can rise up.”

Bullshit.

“That is a FUCKING LIE!” you scream. “A fucking LIE, Eddie and you know how I know that?”

He looks back over at you.

“It’s because you didn’t think twice about it when you were hooking up with Chrissy.”

You’ve had enough of his excuses. Startled, Eddie shies away from you, surprised that you knew of what he so desperately wanted to conceal.

“Who told you that?”

“Who else would know?”

“Everyone at Hellfire, basically,” Eddie laughs pettily. “I just hoped it wouldn’t get around to you.”

Frustrated, Eddie turns off his car. He tosses his keys onto the center console between you both.

“Chrissy and I happened like two or three times. Is that what you wanted to hear?” he asks you. “She was horny, I was horny. She never gave me the time of day in high school so I got all excited. One thing led to another. Thrill eventually wore off. Now she’s just one of my good friends.”

You cross your arms and glare out the window.

“But the reason I was soooo okay with the Chrissy thing is because I only saw her as a fling,” Eddie continues. “End of story.”

“Where exactly are you going with this?”

“The difference with you is that a part of me actually wanted this to go somewhere.”

Does he think you’re stupid? Surely Eddie can’t think you’re just going to fall for his words instead of his actions.

You scoff. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

You muster up the courage to look over at him again. And there he is, his big brown doe eyes glimmering under the full moon.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before, Hargrove,” he mumbles softly. “That shit’s terrifying. For the first time in an incredibly long time I feel like someone gets me.”

You attempt to look away again. Eddie cranes his neck over towards you to meet you where you’re at.

“Someone who gets what it’s like to have a shitty, absent father,” Eddie continues. “Someone who also had to learn how to navigate grief before getting a fucking learner’s permit.”

“You can stop,” you choke. “I get the picture.”

But Eddie continues.

“…Someone who also has to be the bread-winner of the family, not by choice, but by necessity. And someone whose now got a shit ton of trust issues cuz somebody else had to go and fuck ‘em up THAT badly.”

Your throat begins to burn. A soul cry marinates at the pit of your stomach.

"I'm so infatuated with you, Hargrove,” your boss insists. “Okay? You have no idea.”

You tsk.

“You’re infatuated with me,” it’s more of a statement than a question of yours. “Yet you push me away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, like you don’t have trouble accepting things you so rightfully deserve?”

He reaches over to grab your hand. You let him.

"There's nothing scarier than falling for someone who is your literal mirror," Eddie whispers. "Especially when you don't like anything about yourself."

“I know.”

You two fall silent and end up staring ahead for quite some time.

Both of you observe a couple cross the street together. The smitten pair are taking a stroll on the sidewalk, hand in hand and falling into one another like missing puzzle pieces. The guy kisses the girl's forehead, his silhouette reminding you so much of Steve.

“I also didn’t wanna get in between you and Harrington," Eddie mumbles.

“I told you we’re just fuck buddies.”

“But he really, really likes you.”

“Yeah, but if he’s not over Nancy, then what’s the point?”

It’s been a decade since Steve and Nancy broke up and he’s still lovesick over her. When you realized that she couldn’t ever be replaced, you stopped trying to pursue Steve romantically. Eddie falls mute again.

"I'm just his lil pocket pussy for all I know," you break the ice with a laugh.

"Don't say that," Eddie disapproves. "You are more than your body, Shy Girl."

“Then tell me what I am, Eddie,” the wounded part of you speaks. “Since I don’t seem to know.”

His gaze softens. “Well, it’s easy.”

You look at him.

"Corn ball alert,” Eddie prefaces. “But you’re the conversations you have with your regulars, asking them about their day and if they have any updates for you… You're the friendships you make with girls that you don't see a need to compete with. And you're that silly little dance you do when Argyle makes you food. And you’re also the destructive parts of yourself that you keep hiding from but little do you know that even those parts of you tell a story."

The sound of police sirens divert your attention. You shudder at the noise. Eddie seemingly makes note of it and clears his throat as a placeholder.

"…I didn't think you paid attention to any of that, Eds."

"I'm more observant than you think."

You believe him. After all, there are instances when you catch him sneaking a glance at you, turning away too late because you’re caught by his eyes to do the same.

A sigh escapes your body. You interlock your fingers with his.

“I don’t know what... this… is,” you begin. “But all I know is that I really enjoy your company. And that I’ve had a crush on you since the day I met you. If it wasn't obvious already."

Eddie snorts. “Even when I was freaking out over kegs and ground chili?”

“Especially when you were freaking out over kegs and ground chili.”

And now forgiveness is in the air. Monkey see, monkey do, and soon both you and Eddie are grinning at each other from one side of your faces to the other.

“Please,” Eddie requests politely with a gulp. “Will you let me kiss you?”

“Yes.”

To your surprise, Eddie leaves a peck on your cheek out of all places. This fucker, still so polite. He doesn’t touch or graze anywhere else while he does.

“Thanks,” he says as he pulls away. “I guess.”

But you only want him closer now.

“Oh don’t be stupid,” you giggle grabbing his face with both your hands. “Just fucking kiss me.”

You rest your hands at his chin when you pull him closer. And with Eddie’s permission, you sink your lips onto his. His warm breath circles you as your lips attach to one another.

There’s no turning back now.

Eddie’s lips are as soft as a cloud, and they seem to know yours very well. When he’s latched on, Eddie synchronizes with your rhythm almost immediately, getting a few more kisses in before his tongue begs you for entrance. You deny him access and push him back.

“Oooh,” you taunt him, causing him to laugh. “Someone likes me.”

“Maybe,” Eddie blushes, cupping the side of your face with one of his rigid hands. He gives the back of your head an endearing little scratch.

“But you…can’t get involved huh?”

Eddie shakes his head, doing his very best to stand his ground. He’s back to staring at your lips. “No. Definitely can’t…get involved.”

Of course not.

“Not even if I do this?”

You swoop over to press down on the button of Eddie’s seat belt to unbuckle it. Click. He restrains himself, but there’s wonder in his eyes.

“Or this?”

Your hands travel to the side furthest from you as you lean to crank the lever, lowering the head of Eddie’s driver seat to a 30 degree angle.

Amused now, he furrows his brows together and rests his hands behind his head, manspreading as you play that agonizingly long game.

“You’re pushing it, Hargrove…”

Using his unavailable hands to your advantage, you climb over him and assert yourself on his lap. A low groan escapes Eddie’s nose. You make sure to strategically situate yourself right on his crotch. Eddie’s breath hitches, hand hovering over your birthmark as you sink those hips into him. He bucks his up in return, trying to keep up with you.

“What about this?”

“Oh, that’s not fair…”

His hands are back at your waist.

A protruding essence grows in size as you continue to ride Eddie’s thigh. Soft, low whimpers escape from his chest, his dark eyes now beseeching at his mercy. Eddie’s fingers curl, enclosing themselves tightly around the fabric of your baby tee. His available hand gnaws at the seat below him.

“I don’t like playing fair,” you whisper huskily. “I just like getting even.”

Both of yours eyes are glued to what you’re doing, where you’re grinding, and how.

“Why do you do this to me?” he whispers longingly.

“I think it’s safe to say that you’ve been edging me for quite some time, Munson,” you shrug angelically. “Now it’s my turn to give you a taste of—”

You squeal suddenly when Eddie’s hand flies to your throat. The grip he has on you tightens hastily, long before you can even process it.

Shock overpowers you as Eddie studies you eagerly, with flared nostrils and a hot chest. You peer down at him with glossy eyes and yearning lips.

“Back of the van,” Eddie orders. “Now.”

—————————————

tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon, @ali-r3n, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @bebe07011, @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @holabeans00, @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse

—————————————

author's note: i'd be lying if i told you guys i didn't play imaginary barbies in my head in order to map out the argument between eddie and shy girl dfsjklfdkgfgsg would you say I’m a puppet master?

[shirotaangel]

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ Magdalena: Black Dragons

- SCENE I, ACT II

- SYNOPSIS: Koko will do whatever it damn takes to buy you.

- PREVIOUS: Scene I

tw : human-trafficking and purchase, smoking, communism, lowkey blackmail, Koko is a clever bitch.

╰┈➤ KOKONOI LINGERED BY THE STALL of the pawnshop, bent down to look at the gold on display behind the glass. He recognized most of them are white gold from Arabia, some he knew by baser instincts is actually iron covered in shimmering yellow paint.

He hummed and stood upright, stretching his slender back.

It was a little off of five, the sky already switching to purple. He came specifically since he thought it'll be less hotter at dawn.

Kyoto is quite hot in these days of October,  the sun can almost be seen melting the lacquer off of the beams of the ancient palaces. A sight to see. But Koko is never one for sightseeing, anyway.

He came here for you. But before that, there were steps. He hated it. It's an inconvenience, really, but the more he thought about it, it brings a smile to his face.

That made you more desirable. This long, dragging process in order to breathe the same air as you - Ah.

"Excuse me," Kokonoi rapped his leather-gloved knuckles on the glass of the pawnshop, "Where can I inquire about Tourism?"

"On the right, second door," the man bent over a spread of silver rings replied, "wait your turn."

Kokonoi hummed and went into the green-lit hallway of the building. The plaster was peeling off the walls, and a ceiling fan buzzed in Kokonoi's ear, producing more noise than the cool air he needed.

Hooking a finger in his collar to release tension, he sat down on the rusting stool by the fish tank, clicking his tongue. Goldfish, eight of them, swam in dark green water.

They're lucky. They might die in a few days but at least they die cool, comfortable deaths. Koko rolled his eyes. They may lose their lives but he lost something more. No amount of goldfish lives will account for that.

Actually no, he hasn't lost everything yet. Yet. If he has, he won't be here in Kyoto, of all places. He hated Kyoto. He always thought he'd be caught dead before he's seen stepping her ever again.

Kokonoi crossed his legs, staring impatiently at the door in front of him, the second in a rotw here in the green hallway. The door is not a door. It's a rectangle space with a flower-printed plastic as it's door. Cheap, but it makes do.

A pair of Americans exited it, laughing and satisfied. Koko pitied them. They're used to the cold in their Western country. Maybe they'll die first before the goldfish does.

Kokonoi strolled into the flower cover of the door, raising his thin brow at the vile smell of cigarettes in the small, cramped room.

Tourism posters in red inks were pasted to hide the ruined walls, stacks of dusty folders were scattered on the tiled floor. Koko took a seat in front of the table, where a small radio played something Luciano Pavarotti beside a grumbling mini fan.

Koko noticed on the right wall hung a yellowing photo of Mao Zedong.

"You're Communist?" Koko asked the woman behind the table wearing an orange qipao.

The woman, maybe somewhere between fifty and sixty, was flipping through a black binder for accounts.

"Force of habit to have that picture," she raised her head, "I was born when the CCP still lived."

"But you speak Japanese," Koko reasoned, tapping his leather-clad fingers on the glass of the table. There are red tickets behind it written in Cantonese.

"I speak all the languages, boy," the woman snorted, "you should've done the same - it could've gave you better chances of winning my little Oiran over."

Kokonoi raised his brow, challenged, "she told you?"

"Why not? We'revery close." The woman raised her sagging arms, "if that girl wasn't so pretty, she could've passed as my daughter."

"Of course she did," Kokonoi muttered bitterly, sticking his pointy tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"Come now," the woman smiled, "why? What do you want with my beautiful girl? She has no time for you. A hundred kings are waiting for her as we speak."

"Half of them not as profitable as I am," Kokonoi answered, tilting his clever head, "where is she right now."

"Sleeping," the woman puffed out acrid smoke from her bony nose.

"Let me see her."

"Why?"

"Because I want her," kokonoi pressed, leaning his weight on an elbow he put on the table, "you out of everyone know what the benefits are when the most beautiful woman in the world is in your side."

"Exactly," the woman looks at him pointedly, "so why do you think I'll give her away just like that? Do you know how many men, powerful men, go through that door to pay me millions for her?"

"One of them me," Kokonoi says defiantly,  "madame, I'm here for a business proposition."

The woman looked at him suspiciously, tapping her cigarette on an ashtray the shape of a dragon head.

"Go on," she urged.

Kokonoi smiled, leaning coolly on his chair. He made this offer days ahead, filled the loopholes and cracks that might fault his argument. It's flawless. He was proud of himself for being so smart. So clever.

"The Oiran's men, all three thousand two hundred and four of them, made you a rich woman, haven't day?" Koko said calmly, proud again for his research, "but not a single one of them are patrons."

The woman glared at him. At this, Koko knew he struck a nerve. He sent one of his men from his division to bribe the older girls in the brothel. They liked to be paid more for information than for sex.

Knowledge, Kokonoi knew, is the divine currency. Oh, if only this woman knew how rich he is right now.

"As Treasurer and Captain, Black Dragon earns a total of three million yen per month, a maximum of five if the - " Kokonoi tilts his head, grinning, "weather is good."

"Go on," she flicked her head.

Kokonoi couldn't believe it - how easy it is to have the woman who owned you to lean towards him in interest, seconds away from giving him her terms of agreement.

He found that, no matter the amount t of money she receives from the you, it's unstable income. He learned you were bedridden from a fever two years ago. The brothel was forced to sell ten girls in the Vietnamese black market just to go by until you healed..

Roppongi also, is an untrustworthy finance. The connection between it and Kyoto, Koko knew, is illegal. The imports exchanged are always delayed because the police trace the money transfers -  another unstable income.

Only Koko can save them all.

"Shiba Taiju, tenth Generation Commander of the Black Dragons, will be your patron," Kokonoi raised his hands in welcome, "finally you have something to make your business a less bit illegal."

There. He said it. Kokonoi loved the shifting of the woman's wrinkled expression, all of which leads only to one.

"Fine," she groaned, "fine."

Kokonoi, triumphant, smiled and laced his fingers over his knee. The woman sighed, deflating back on her chair.

"But you know her, don't you?" She raised her brow, "my pretty, pretty girl?"

Kokonoi was silent for a moment, a flash of memory crossing his head. It made him smile and frown, excited and furious. You're beautiful, the most beautiful he's ever seen.

"Come to Black Dragons," he told you.

"Why should I?" You asked, glowing like a beautiful torch in your red cheongsam.

His answer was what all the women in the world would come running down to grasp, to eat.

"Because you'll be free," Kokonoi said.

Kokonoi offered you something your circumstance can never give. He dangled it in front of your perfect face, all you needed to say was -

"No," you told him.

That was it. Kokonoi could never forget how he bit his lip until it bled when he rode to Taiju at the back of Inupi's bike, leaving the Jansou where you poised and sat by the Mahjongg table you played on with him.

Koko looked at the brothel madame, "of course I do."

"Then you know she'll say no," the woman says, lighting herself another cigarette, "that girl is more beautiful than anyone and anything - it's a given her reasons aren't like most, too."

He knows that. Of course he fucking does. Kokonoi shrugged, "when can I see her?"

"Now."

Kokonoi smiled. You don't want freedom. It's even possible you might not want anything at all.

He remembers it, that look of yours. The endless depths of nothingness swimming under you perfect, perfect skin. Try as he might, he can't really do anything about it.

But he'll get you. Oh yes. He'll get you.

copyright belongs to @shirotaangel

[wildbornsiren]

Almost does Count. || Rhett Abbott/F!Reader

Almost does Count. 

Summary: A terrible, horrible, no good very bad week. And one almost that isn’t an almost. Rhett gives you a hand, and makes things a little better. 

Warnings: drinking, Rhett punching someone, pining

Notes: For the lovely @princessmisery666​, love you wifey. Comments and reblogs make me happy. Likes are appreciated. Thank you so very much for reading, it’s appreciated and means the most. 

** Tag list is gone, visit @wbslibrary​ **

There was one thing that you could count on. The bars of Wabang were loud, crowded and full of people who paid no mind to what was going on around them. Which is why no one says a damn word when you sat at the bar, beer bottle slick with condensation in front of you, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hand willing yourself not to cry. It had been a red-letter week, the car broke down and it would take scrimping from the next three paychecks to pay for repairs, and that’s if you can convince one of your coworkers to give you a lift to and from.

There was nothing that could make this week worse.

“Hey baby.” There’s a grunt as someone sits on the barstool next to you.

“Terry, tonight is not the night.” You lift your head from your hands, glaring at your ex-boyfriend. Though, calling him your boyfriend was generous. It wasn’t much more than a few crappy dates, most of the time spent fumbling with each other in the bedroom.

“I mean, I could help. You just got to talk to me baby.” His fingers travel up your arm, circling your elbow. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll help you forget all your worries.”

“For all of thirty seconds while you jack-rabbit between my legs, come and roll over and go to sleep?”

“Oh, come on now baby, there’s no need to get nasty outside the bedroom.”

“Terry, you couldn’t get nasty in the bedroom, I’m shocked you can identify it.”

“You know what,” His hand tightens on your elbow. “I’ve got half a mind—”

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said all night.” A second masculine voice says. Smooth, quiet, a voice you know very well. “Come on. The lady’s not interested. Move on.”

“You know what Abbott. I’m tired of you walking around like you’re something important just because you can last 8 seconds on a bull. You can’t last that long on a woman.”

“Terry!” You slide off the stool, putting yourself between him and Rhett. A stupid move, but you know Rhett wouldn’t hurt you, and you can handle anything Terry managed to deal. “Too far.” You break the hold on your arm. “You need to go.”

“We ain’t done here,” He snatches at you, fingers iron tight. Terry yanks you toward him, causing you to stumble. You slam into the bar, feeling the edge of it bite into your torso, knowing you’ll have a bruise later.  

There’s a heavy crack of skin on skin, a grunt and the sound of someone hitting the floor. The rest of the bar notices what’s going on, as chaos breaks out all around you. Rhett is rubbing his hand, Terry’s laid out on the floor, not moving, on his back.

“Come on,” Rhett says quickly, offering you his hand. You take it, and he tugs you through the crowd, leaving a few crumpled bills on the bar. The night air is cool and crisp, the sky pitch black, stars stretching out endlessly above you. You find yourself pinned against the passenger door of his truck as he fumbles with the keys. Laughter bubbling up in your throat, wild and an alternative to the tears and frustration you feel just under the surface. Rhett helps you into the truck, racing around the front to get in behind the wheel.

Tires squeal as he peels out of the parking lot, struggling one handed with his seatbelt as he gets onto the main road. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“I don’t much care for how he treated you. He has no right to speak to you that way.” Rhett glances sidelong at you. “Told you that before,” his voice is a little softer. He drives for a while, heading out of town, landscape being taken over by dark pastures and fields.

“Thanks,” you lick your lips, staring out the window. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. After a week of bad things piling up, you were in the cab of Rhett’s truck. With a thousand ‘almosts’ filling the space between you. The two of you had always been a little too close, too friendly. Inside jokes, quiet glances. You’d watch him ride; he’d drop by the famer’s market to keep you company while you sold produce. Hands brushing together, easy enough to be passed off as accidental. The way his hand tightened on your hip while he spun you around the dance floor.

The way you could sit in absolute silence with him, not saying a word—and have it be the best conversation in the world.

You almost had him, but he was taken. Almost ended up cozied up together at a bonfire, but you were enamored with someone else.

Almost hurt worse than being alone.

Which is why the string of shitty boyfriends, terrible one-night stands, and occasional rodeo boy that came through Amelia County. All because of a lanky, sweet man who stood at your side as a friend, and an almost.

You’re jolted from your thoughts when Rhett turns the ignition off. He’s parked at a diner, and he tips his head with a grin. “Let’s get some coffee, and you tell me everything that’s going on in that head of yours.” He’s opened your door, offered his hand to steady you as you hop out of his truck. Rhett keeps a hold of it as you walk to the diner, a calloused thumb smoothing over the back of your hand.

A corner booth, his knees knocking against yours as you huddle around the small, slightly sticky table. Two cups of coffee and a massive slab of apple pie with two forks sit between you. He’s letting you talk, his hands wrapped around the worn mug, listening with a slight upturn to his lips.

Everything comes out. The car problems, the work problems, that it hadn’t rained nearly enough this year and things were already looking lean. Each little drop in the bucket of bad bubbles up. “And then Max ate my slippers.” You stab at a slice of apple with your fork. “My brand-new slippers. He knows better than that. I came home and he brought me the sole of one of them like it was a present.”

Rhett laughs, really laughs. You can’t help but smile at the quiet sound. His eyes crinkle and there’s an unrestrained joy to it—happy is a good look for him, and not one that you get to see often. It’s something that you want to see on him all the time.

“Thanks,” there’s a lump in your throat. “For looking out for me.”

He passes you a handful of scratchy thin napkins when you sniffle, wiping at your eyes. “S’alright darlin’. Just let it out.” Rhett leans closer, his fingertips so gentle as they tip your chin up. “I’m just a phone call away. I know it’s hard to pick up the phone, but it’s not good to let it fester.” That same thumb brushes over your cheek delicate and soft.

“I’ll take a look at the car, if I can’t fix it, I’ll work something out with Jenkins alright?”

You nod mutely, wiping your nose. “Sorry.”

“Darlin’ you’ve picked me up outta worse.” He says, “Now finish that pie, and I’ll take you home.” He picks up his coffee again. “You need some rest.” He won’t let you pay, but you leave a tip on the table. The drive back to your place is nice. Rhett is humming along with a song on the radio, and the night air is so cool and clear. You sing along, letting the wind bounce your hand back and forth when you stick it out the window.

Rhett follows you up the porch stairs, a warm presence at your back as you unlock your front door.

“You want to come in?” You ask, looking up at him. The porchlight casts harsh shadows on his face, and yet he’s still one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen.

He smiles softly, tipping his hat up. “Not tonight darlin’.” He kisses your forehead, drawing you closer, an arm around your waist. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to, lord I want to.” Rhett’s words brush against your skin, his lips pressing them softly to your cheekbones. There’s a slight scrape of his stubble when he nuzzles against your jaw. “But you’ve got so much on your mind, darlin’. And when I have you for the first time, I want all of you.”

Rhett’s mouth eases over yours, kissing you softly. He’s sweet and gentle, backing you against the doorframe. One hand light on your waist, the other braced above you, pinning you. “Go on inside, sweetheart. Get some rest.”

He pauses, “for me?”

“For you.” You whisper. You can feel the warmth from his kiss coursing through you.

“You work tomorrow?” When you shake your head, he continues. “I’ll come over look at the car after I feed the horses. I only accept food and kisses in exchange for mechanical work.” He winks at you. “Go on now.”

You open the door, stepping into the house, still buzzing with the effects of Rhett’s touch. The door closed solidly behind you, you lean against it, trying to control your racing heart. It’s not until you lock it, that Rhett’s heavy footsteps go down the stairs and his truck roars to life.

/end

[manicplank]

The Color Pink (Part 7)

Noisecouple lovers rejoice.

This one took me a minute to get to.

Hazel had woken up before her alarm clock in the morning. She strutted over to the bathroom and hopped in the shower. She ran the water so hot that the mirror had steamed up. She went back into her room. She had a vanity dresser that she sat in front of. On it was all of her makeup, a curling iron, and a hair dryer. It was a bit of a mess. She toweled off her hair and turned the lights on the mirror on. She imagined herself as a movie star getting ready for the set. She imagined if that was how Theodore felt when he was getting ready for filming. She hummed a little tune as she blow dried her hair. She used the a round brush and a special addition to put a peppy upward curl at the end of her hair.

She approached the door of the cafe. The bell above the door rang as she walked in. That was the sound that started her day. The Vigilante came in shortly after she opened, as usual. "Hi, Vigi," she greeted him cheerfully. He tipped his hat at her, "Mornin'." She placed a mug and filled it up with fresh black coffee. He slithered up to the counter and climbed up to the stool. She added three sugar cubes to the coffee and slid the mug to him. He sighed and pulled out a newspaper.

"Quiet today, hm," she spoke.

"Yeah. It was bailing day for the hay field. Had to store it all afterwards before the rain came. Lots of heavy work."

"Sounds... not great."

"Eh, it's a living. I got some good helpers, though."

"Did Mort help?" She chuckled.

The Vigilante laughed. "Naw, never. He always makes it a bit worse. Always wants to be on my hat." He sipped his coffee. "You heard from The Noise, lately?"

"Yeah, actually. We've been talking on the phone a lot. I haven't seen him in a while, though."

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Don't look at me like that," she pouted. "He's been busy on set. They're making a new movie, something you might be interested in."

"Oh, yeah? You think so?"

"Yeah. It's a western, The Loud Sound."

The Vigilante looked disturbed. "The hell does he think he's doing makin' a western? He doesn't know a thing about bein' a cowboy!"

"I think he's playing a bounty hunter rather than a cowboy."

He slammed his hands on the counter, "WHAT?!"

"Whoa, whoa, relax. It's just a movie."

The Vigilante scoffs. "I bet it's gonna be terrible."

Hazel shrugs. "All I know is that he's been working a ton. A lot of overtime."

"You sure he's not avoiding you?"

Hazel face palms. "Why do you have to be so negative?"

"I'm just trying to-"

"I DON'T NEED YOU TO PROTECT ME!"

The Vigilante leaned back in shock with his hands up. It was unlike her to get angry like that. "Is... Is there something wrong?"

She sighed, "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm just sick of you being so overprotective. It's not helpful. I don't want you putting words in my head that make me paranoid. I... I like him. I think I like like him."

The Vigilante let out a sarcastic laugh before he sipped his coffee. "Little too soon to say that."

She gave him a death stare. "Like you, you- No, Hazel. Be nice, Hazel. Don't say that. Be nice." She inhaled and gave him a wide-eyed stare. "Would you like me to top off your cup," she asked through gritted teeth.

He had a wide-eyed look of slight fear. "Uh... No, I... I think I'm gonna get going, actually."

"But you haven't even finished your coffee."

He laughed nervously. "Those cows ain't gonna feed themselves!" He took out cash and put it on the counter with a forced smile.

"But you feed the cows at dawn before you even come here."

He slithered backwards toward the door with his hands up by his head. "Then the chickens... Bye!" He dashed out of the door in a cartoonish manner. Hazel rolled her eyes and put her head on her hand as she rested her elbow on the counter.

-

The rest of the day was boring for her. No one else came into the cafe. After The Vigilante turned her mood sour, she was having a tough time coping with the emptiness of the cafe. The Pig City police didn't even come in. She was feeling discouraged. She got home, and even her house seemed empty. She sat down on the couch and sighed. She checked the time; only 4 p.m. She wanted to call Theodore, but she figured he would still be working. She wasn't feeling like cooking, so she ordered takeout from one of the Chinese places in The Pig City. Orange chicken with white rice and a side of fried rice. She slowly ate it carefully. The food made her mood slightly better.

Time went by slowly. It finally reached 7 p.m. Hazel picked up the phone and dialed The Noise's number. He answered after a couple rings, "Hello?"

"Hey!"

"Oh, hey Hazel!"

"Were you sleeping again?"

He chuckled. "No. I figured you might call."

"Oh yeah? How come?"

"Lately, you've been calling at around 7."

"Oh... Sorry..."

"It's okay! It doesn't bother me. I uh... I like talking to you." He smiled as he twirled the phone wire around his finger.

She blushed. "I like talking to you, too. How was your day?"

"Ugh, it sucked!"

"What happened?"

"We're still working on that movie, The Loud Sound. It was going okay, but then we started to have issues with the microphones. The supporting role kept forgetting his fucking lines."

"I can't believe how long you've been working on that movie."

He groans. "Yep, going on three months, now. I swear, every time we get a good pace going, something goes wrong. I mean, yeah, movies take a while to film and edit, but this one is taking even longer."

"Aw, that sucks."

"It does. We've been working overtime a lot still. I'm so fucking tired."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah... How was your day?"

She frowned and sighed sadly, "Slow. The Vigilante came in as usual, but he was the only one who showed. The cafe has been so empty, lately. It makes me sad."

"That blows."

"Yeah... I don't know... Sometimes I wonder if opening the cafe was a mistake."

"Let me ask you this; does it make you happy?"

"Well, yeah, sometimes. I always wanted to start a business, but I think the tower wasn't the best place to do so."

"I think it's because not everybody knows about it. I've tried spreading the word."

"I know. A couple people have come in saying they heard about it through you."

"Your location also isn't the greatest, no offense."

"No, you're right! I've been thinking about asking Mr. Pizzaface for a different location, but I feel like it'll be useless."

"Yeah, he's sort of a stiff."

"I guess I'm just feeling a little discouraged..."

"I'm sorry, toots."

"..." She looked upset.

"Hey! I have an idea!"

"What?"

"What if, and hear me out, what if you catered to the studio a few times a week? It'll be a ton of orders plus good money."

"Huh... I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Awesome! Maybe that'll put everyone in better moods. You wanna try maybe doing it tomorrow? We're all gonna be there around 10 but filming starts at 1."

"That'll work! But how would we do it?"

"Hmm... I'll probably write down everyone's orders. I'll collect the money and give it to you. And I can help you out! We'll both bring the coffee to the building. If it's a lot, I can bring someone else with me, too."

"That sounds perfect!"

"All right!"

She chuckled. "So then I'll see you tomorrow. I should get going to sleep so I can get everything ready early."

"Oh... Yeah, okay! I'll, uh... I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, then. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight."

Theodore hung up the phone with a huge smile on his face. He was so excited that he got to see her again, but he was also nervous as he still got butterflies when he thought about her. He couldn't stop thinking about their date. He wanted to ask her on another one, but he didn't have the time lately. Having her cater the studio was his grand idea of getting to spend time with her while he was so busy.

-

Hazel woke up at the first beep of her alarm clock. She felt that it was a big day for her and her business. She got to cater NTV studios, she had to do her best. Better yet, she got to see The Noise again, so she had to look her best, too! She brushed her teeth extra well and swished mouthwash vigorously, then she washed her face and used just a touch more moisturizer than usual. She went to her vanity and added a small curl to the ends of her hair as always.

She opened up her cafe at the usual time, but she was busy preparing more pots of coffee than she regularly does. She was a tad bit anxious from the anticipation. She still had plenty of time, but there was only so much she could do to prepare. She didn't want to ground too much coffee too early so it didn't go stale. The bell rang as The Vigilante came in. "Hey, Vigi," she greeted him.

"Howdy," he responded.

She prepared his usual black coffee with three sugar cubes. She slid it to him on the counter and started getting out supplies to get ready for the big order. The Vigilante noticed her working frantically.

"You alright, Hazel?"

"What? Oh! Yeah! I'm fine! I'm just a bit anxious on account of the fact that I'm catering NTV studios today!"

"Really?" He smiles. "That sounds like a big order."

"Yeah. I forgot to ask Theodore what time he was coming."

"Theodore? Who is that?"

"The Noise."

"His name is Theodore?"

"Yep! THE-odore Noise! Get it?"

The Vigilante thought about it for a moment. "Oooh. Okay. I see it now."

"Anyways, he asked me last night if I'd be willing to cater the set today. I figured it'll be great for business. I mean, things have been awfully slow."

He shrugged. "Well, that's a good thing! I'm sure that'll bring in some good money for ya, too."

"Yep!"

-

Ten o'clock came quickly. Noise came through the door in a yellow hoodie and grey sweatpants. He had a long list of orders. "Okay," he sighed. "So, this might've been a bad idea."

"What happened?"

He handed the list to her with a worried but shocked expression.

"Oh... That's um... That's a lot..."

"Yeah... I didn't realize that literally everybody on set would order."

She smiled with determination and put her hands on her hips. "Well, it's too late, now. I've got this!" She immediately went to work, grinding fresh coffee, setting fresh brews, lining up cups, pressing espresso. The Noise watched her. He felt guilty as he watched her slave over the counter.

"Do you want me to help you," he asked.

She looked at him and shook her head. "Mm-mm, I can do this!"

"But I-"

"Shush! I'm trying to focus."

Incredibly, Theodore went quiet. He sat at the counter with his hands clasped. She checked the list every few seconds. It was like watching a factory line but with only one worker. He was amazed at how quickly she worked. She even wrote names on the cups to make it easier to hand them out.

"You wanna help me?"

"Mhm," he nodded.

"Here," he handed him a stack of cardboard drink carriers. "I'll hand you the drinks and you place them in these."

She placed drinks at the counter as he set them in the holders, but he could barely keep up with her. She was going so swiftly. Before they knew it, they had 10 carriers with 4 cups each filled up. She shook her hands as they finished up.

"Alright," she smiled, "all done! Um... Theodore, are you okay?"

Theo was short of breath. "I'm fine, I just uh... I feel like I just ran a marathon."

She chuckled. "Sorry, I can get a little intense sometimes."

"How," he huffed, "how are we going to get all of these to set?"

She put her fingers on her chin. "Hmm... Oh!" She snapped her fingers. She ran to the back and came out with a three tier cart. "We can use this! We'll have to stack them really carefully."

They placed the drinks carefully on the cart, stacking some on top of each other. As they got the last few carriers on, Hazel nodded at him and began to push. "Try to catch any that are going to fall, okay?"

"Okay," Theo responded.

-

After a good 20 minute walk, they finally arrived at the building with all the drinks in tact. Theodore beckoned her to follow him as he led her to the set. Several people cheered as they saw them coming in. They went over to the mostly empty concessions table and placed the coffees on it. They were immediately swarmed by people scrambling to find their coffees. Everyone was excited to have coffee that didn't taste like pizza. Hazel felt a tiny bit overwhelmed as she was surrounded by strangers, but just as fast as they came, they left, and the crowd cleared out. She took a deep breath, "Phew!" She looked at Theo, and they laughed together.

"That was a lot," he said.

"Yeah, but I think it was worth it." She smiled.

"So what do I owe ya?"

Hazel had a horrified expression on her face. "Oh, my gosh! I forgot to ring up the orders!"

Noise laughed. "Here, come with me." She followed him nervously as he led her to his dressing room. He took his wallet out of one of the drawers from the vanity and pulled out $400 cash.

She gasped. "No, no, I don't think it would've costed that much!"

"Well, this is with tip."

She froze for a minute before she pocketed the money and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you!" She squeezed the air out of him. She let go so he could take a breath.

"Yeah," he had a giant smile on his face. "No problem."

There was a knock at the door that made the two jump. "Mr. Noise," Mary, his makeup artist spoke. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, you're good!"

Mary walked in slowly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Oh, no no, I was just paying her for the coffees."

Mary smiled. "Well, they want you in costume for rehearsing." She had her makeup supplies with her. "So, if you don't mind..."

He clicked the vanity lights on and sat in the chair. Mary placed the makeup on the dresser. "Excuse me, love," she aired as she walked around Hazel.

"Oh, sorry," Hazel responded. "Well, uh, I should get going..." She started to walk toward the door.

"Wait," Theo blurted, "don't you want to stay?"

"I'd love to, but I have to get back to the cafe. I think I'm going to close it up early and get some rest."

"Alright, then, go get some rest. That order was huge. You remember your way out?"

"Um..."

"Here," he stood up, "I'll walk you out. I'll be back in a sec, Mary." Mary nodded at him with a smile.

He led her out side by side through a short corridor then through the set that was set up like a western saloon. She was amazed at the build of the set. Theo looked at her and grinned as she stared at the set in awe. People waved to her and thanked her as she walked through, and she waved back with a smile. They reached the door of the building and walked out together. Hazel turned around, still smiling. She held her arms up and out. "C'mere," she exclaimed. Theo leaned in and hugged her. She squeezed him and picked him up for a second. "Oooh, thank you so so so much!" She put him down, but before she pulled away, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. He became wide-eyed and flustered. His face was almost pure red.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Uh, no problem."

She had her hands clasped together and had one foot on the toes as she twirled her ankle around. She was blushing lightly. She couldn't believe she just did that. "I'll call you," she spoke softly.

"Yeah. I'll answer." Noise laughed nervously.

Hazel gave him one more hug before she walked off. Theo was as stiff as a board. His legs felt like they could give out at any moment, and his heart was racing. He took a few deep breaths before he walked back in the building and straight to the dressing room where Mary was waiting for him. She had a huge smile on her face. Her eyes followed him as he walked to the chair and sat down.

"That was her, wasn't it," Mary asked.

He wouldn't make eye contact with her. He cleared his throat, "Yeah... How could you tell?"

"Well, for one, you asked her to stay. You never ask anyone to stay. Two, you took her straight to your dressing room. I thought I was going to walk into something I wasn't supposed to see." She chuckled as she saw Theodore get even more flustered.

"No, no, we weren't-"

"And three, you just came back from walking her out, and you are red as a strawberry!"

Noise hid his face in his hands as he brought his left leg up. He couldn't look at her.

"If you don't mind me asking," Mary continued as she organized her makeup set, "what happened out there?"

"Nothing much," he uncovered his face and put his leg down. "She hugged me tightly and thanked me."

Mary raised her brow with a smile. "And that's it? That's what has you beet red?"

He clenched his fists and slid down in his chair. "She... kissed me on the cheek."

"Oooo," she teased.

"Shut up!"

"Okay, okay," Mary laughed. "I'll stop messing with you. Now sit up and close your eyes. I have to make it look like you actually slept last night."

[mrslunasnape]

Eye of The Beholder

This work was created for the Snapebang 2023! @snapebang

Author: @mrslunasnape Artist: @deathnotelu Artist: @okeydokeylackey Rating: PG Pairings: Severus Snape x OC Trigger Warnings: Bullying Tags: Teen Snape, Marauders Era, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Snape getting the love and support he deserves, bullying, inner monologue Summary: Severus comes from a hard upbringing. His father was abusive in multiple senses of the word. It's left him with an image of himself that he hates to look at. He's afraid to let anyone else really see him, for fear that they too might see him as the wretch that he sees himself as... Until his potions class partner challenges Severus to see him through her eyes.

“I want everyone to partner up! Partner up, everyone! Come now, let’s not slog about!” Professor Slughorn bellowed all too cheerily for a 7:00 in the morning class.

The room filled with the sound of students grumbling and the shuffling of feet as the practically zombie students took their seats.

The dungeons were dimly lit by candles on their last bit of wick. The bricks lining the walls were stained with the smell of smoke, ash, and herbs. An unusual ochre colored growth flourished in some of the cracks, but no one dared to investigate what it was.

“Do you want to be partners?” Luna nervously asked Severus.

“What?” Severus mumbled as he pried his focus away from his well loved potion’s textbook. He had been hunched over it, scribbling in any space he could find in the margins…which wasn’t a lot.

“For the assignment today, do you want to be my partner?” Luna repeated.

“I…um….yeah, sure.” Severus managed to get out before moving his satchel off the chair next to him to make room for her to sit.

Luna had dark chestnut hair that’s untamed curls spilled just past her shoulders. Her eyes were oceanic blue with a faint green lining around her pupils.

She was the middle child of the Black family, and it always seemed to perplex Severus that she would want anything to do with him. Her younger brother was cordial enough with him, but her older brother was downright cruel.

Severus was tall and lanky. His obsidian eyes housed no hidden flecks of light in them and matched the oil slick black hair that draped down to his chin. He was frequently referred to as a bat by the other students, and deep down Severus didn’t really ever blame them. He avoided looking in mirrors, not just because he didn’t like his physical appearance, but because he had a deep seeded fear that if he starred at the coal black eyes looking back at him in the mirror for too long that he would see himself. Really see himself. His father was a monster who abused both him and his mother, and he feared that a part of him slumbered deep within him. He was terrified that one day that part of him would awaken and turn him into his birthright; into a monster akin to his father.

Luna sat on the stool beside Severus and nervously tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

Gods. She can’t even look at me. Am I truly that hideous? Did I brush my hair this morning? Does it even matter? Focus, Severus.

“Amortentia!” Professor Slughorn announced as he lifted the lid off a large cast iron cauldron at the front of the room to reveal a swirling pink potion with a mother-of-pearl sheen to it. Most of the girls in the class giggled while several of the boys either groaned or mockingly made gagging noises.

Professor Slughorn ignored the commotion and continued, “A combination of the French word Amour, meaning love, and the Latin word Tentia, meaning held; the Amortentia potion can defined as a potion that reveals to us what we hold a special place in our heart for. What we love some might say.”

Professor Slughorn leaned over the swirling concoction and inhaled deeply; almost comically. He leaned back from the cauldron, his back practically crumpling as a euphoric exhale escape his lungs, “Ahhh, smells like success, fame, and recognition.” He chuckled heartily, “Many people make the mistake of thinking that the Amortentia smells only of romantic love, taking on the scent of the love interest of whomever smells it. Of course this is common enough, but it isn’t always the case. Some people have things that they love more than they love other people, and those smells often shine through in Amortentia. For example, the smell of money is a rather common one.”

Professor Slughorn turned his attention to Severus, who sat in the back row and was who once again preoccupied with the contents of his potion textbook, “I suspect Mr. Snape’s Amortenia would smell like books and ink. Honestly, my boy, I’m shocked how you manage to keep ink off that nose of yours with how close you get to that thing the parchment when you write.”

A few students chuckled.

Severus’s cheeks felt as if they were physically on fire.

Please don’t make them look at me.

“Now, while I appreciate your insatiable appetite for learning, Mr. Snape, I would kindly ask that you at least turn that desire to learn towards my lesson rather than your book.” Professor Slughorn lectured.

Severus grumbled something inaudible under his breath, but he returned his quill to its inkwell none the less.

“Moving on!” Professor Slughorn swished his hand in the air in a rather flamboyant manner, “Perhaps Amortentia is misnamed, for as we discussed earlier, its French route suggests it to be a potion of love. Of course, your average witch or wizard off the street will see it that way. But you, my dear students, are not common riff raff off the street! So learn well that Amortentia isn’t really about love at all. Sure, when you inhale its fumes each individual smells scents that appeals to their heart, but when the potion is consumed… well, now that’s a different story entirely.” Slughorn winked cheesily at the students.

“How can a love potion be dangerous?” A Slytherin boy taunted from the front row, “Oh no, my heart feels tingly now, so dangerous!” He pretended to faint into the arms of the student sitting next to him, who was all to eager to play the role of catching him and fanning his face.

Several boys laughed, while most of the girls in the glass shot him dagger eyes.

Professor Slughorn gave a muted chuckle, “That sounds like the talk of someone who has never experienced real love before.”

It was the girls turn to laugh.

Professor Slughorn continued, “Don’t be fooled, love is more dangerous than hate. Hate will make do unspeakable things to another in order to calm your own demons. Love will make you do unspeakable things to yourself in order to calm the demons of another.”

The fainting boy rolled his eyes.

“But, as I was saying, Amortentia is not truly a love potion, but rather an essence of love potion… and the worst essence of it. Despite how many skilled potioneers have tried over the centuries, none have been able to authentically recreate the emotion of love. If they had, they would be exuberantly wealthy and love potions would certainly not be sold from tacky little fountains at Zonko’s.” Professor Slughorn said as he side-eyed a Hufflepuff girl seated in the second row.

The girl had a tiny pink crystalline vial that housed a potion with a mother-of-pearl sheen to it. A distinct Zonkos label was plastered on the vial which read “Aphrodite Amortenia”. She was showing it off to a small group of girls who were huddled over it like a secret treasure. Upon being called out by the professor, she quickly shoved it into her satchel and flashed a weak smile.

Professor Slughorn pulled a small plastic comb from his chest pocket and brushed his hair back neatly, “No, Amortentia does not create love. It creates obsession. Specifically, it creates an obsession for the person who administered the potion to whomever drank it. While not love, obsession will certainly still make you do crazy things. People have killed for less.”

The room fell awkwardly silent.

Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together in front of him, the loud echo bouncing off the stone dungeon walls breaking the silence, “Well then, let’s get to brewing, shall we? Open your text books to page 493.”

Severus opened his textbook to Amortentia section, which to his potion partner’s surprise, was already filled well into the margins with notes in tiny fine print.

“You’ve already done your research I see.” Luna said playfully as she nodded her head towards Severus’s book.

“I like to read ahead…” Severus said mousily as his thumb caressed the worn pages of his well loved textbook.

Luna leaned in closer to read the small ink scratchings in the margins. There was so much written in such a tiny area that she had to squint in order to make the writing legible. There were corrections to ingredient measurements, recommended cauldron temperatures, substitute ingredients, and even notes on various ways to procure oils and seeds from herbs.

“Wow.” She whispered.

“I know, it’s a mess. My handwriting isn’t very good and some of the notes overlap because I was trying to squeeze in some information and there’s not a lot of space to work with but-”

“Severus, you’re brilliant.” Luna cut him off.

Surely I heard her wrong.

Severus’s face, normally almost as pale as the castle ghosts, faded to a sweet shade of pink. “Really?”

Luna’s fingertip traced along the lines of handwritten notes, “Yes. Really” She paused and looked up at him with a tender smile. “I should have you tutor me.”

“Oh, well…” Severus stumbled over his words.

“Mr. Snape. Ms. Black. This is the last time I’m going to ask for your attention.” Professor Slughorn scolded.

Severus and Luna’s faces both went red and their shoulders hunched with embarrassment as once again turned their attention to Professor Slughorn.

“The particular version of Amortentia that we will be brewing today was developed by Hogwarts Alumni Laverne de Montmorency. We’ll be using the following ingredients. Ahem.” Professor Slughorn cleared his throat before picking up each clear glass jar on his desk and holding it up so that the students could get a better view of each ingredient, “Ashwinder eggs. The eggs of this fiery serpent will help us to draw in the fiery energy of passion. Rose thorns, to remind us that love often hurts. Powdered moonstone, also known as the wishing stone, to enhance the desire for love. Pearl dust, known traditionally to help with heart conditions. Today it will aid us in a rather unconventional definition of a heart condition. And of course, rose petals, a timeless symbol of love. You’ll find the proper measurements for each of these outlined in your textbook, along with how to prepare them. We have about an hour left in class. That should be ample enough time for you to brew a small batch of Amortentia.”

Luna turned her attention back to her own textbook, “It says here the first step is to grind the moonstone and pearl down into dust using a mortar and pestle.” She dropped the gems into the mortar on their shared desk and began to twist her wrist back and forth in a feeble attempt to grind the stones into dust.

“It works better if you go in a circular motion.” Severus said barely audibly.

“What?” Luna questioned, not hearing him over the sound of several sets of mortar and pestles grinding around the room.

“Like this.” Severus said as he reached out and grabbed the pestle, his slender hand firmly placed on top of hers as he guided her to move the pestle in a grand circular motion encircling the entire inside of the mortar.

Luna turned her head to thank him, and quickly found her face so close to his that she could feel the warmth of his breath. The tip of his unique nose practically touched hers.

Severus, startled, quickly released his grip on the pestle and jumped back. “Sorry.”

“Thank you.” Luna said in unison with his sorry, “Wait, what?”

“Nothing.” Severus added nervously.

Why can’t I just act normal for once? This is why you have no friends.

Severus cracked the Ashwinder eggs and added them to the bubbling cauldron in silence as Luna finished grinding the powder. He tossed the shells into the bin and then turned back to face her, “Rose thorns and petals are next.”

A bouquet of gorgeous red roses sat in a spiral vase on the desk. The pair set to work carefully plucking the velvety petals from the flower and using a small paring knife to extract the thorns from the stem.

Art by @deathnotelu Instagram: amber_dnl

“Ouch!” Luna exclaimed as she dropped her knife on the table with a clatter. A small crimson droplet began to bloom on her thumb.

“Did you cut yourself?” Sever asked, clearly concerned.

“Yeah, but it’s not bad.” Luna said as she sucked on her small cut in an attempt to cull the sting.

Severus winced, “Don’t do that. It’s not good for the wound.”

Luna pulled her thumb back out from her mouth and a small droplet of blood once again formed on the tip of her finger.

Severus picked up his satchel from the ground and began to furiously dig around in it. Finally he pulled out a small bandage roll and a tiny vial of a fine yellow powder.

“What’s that?” Luna asked.

“Yarrow powder.” Severus responded, “It helps to stop bleeding.” He held her hand still with one hand and with the other carefully sprinkled some of the pine smelling powder onto her cut. He then proceeded to tightly wrap her finger with a small cloth bandage. “There.”

“I’m lucky you carry around first aid supplies.” Luna said with a smile.

“I get hurt a lot.” Severus said solemnly.

Luna felt her heart sink a little, “Thank you, Severus.”

I must seem so pathetic.

“Any time.” He meekly responded as he tucked his supplies back into his satchel.

Severus scooped up the collection of thorns they had made and tossed them into the brew. He began to stir methodically, one clockwise rotation followed by two counterclockwise rotation. He repeated this patten over and over as the potion began to swirl and shift colors in the cauldron.

Luna watched him curiously and then looked back down to her textbook, which clearly indicated to only stir the potion clockwise. She was going to bring this discrepancy up to him, but before her very eyes the brew began to shimmer with the telltale mother-of-pearl glow that only Amortentia produces. In fact, the shimmer of their potion seemed to surpass what was in Professor Slughorn’s own cauldron. They certainly had gotten theirs to shift colors faster than everyone else in the room.

Luna began to lean over the potion in an attempt to smell what unique scent the potion would create for her, but Severus reached his arm out in front of her and stopped her before she could get too close.

“Hold on.” He instructed. Severus peered over to Professor Slughorn, who was chatting up a Ravenclaw girl who was rumored to be the top of their class about joining his Slug Club. Seizing his opportunity, Severus slipped to the back of the classroom and into the storage closet. A mere moments later he returned holding a vial of tiny bright green leaves.

“What is that?” Luna whispered as to not attract any attention.

“Peppermint leaves.” Severus responded with a devilish grin only worn by those who have completed a successful heist.

“That’s not on the ingredient list.” Luna said curiously.

“It’s on mine.” Severus said proudly as he pointed to his textbook. Sure enough, scribbled in his own handwriting at the bottom of the ingredient list: peppermint leaves - finely chopped not crushed.

“Are you sure? Have you tried this before?” Luna questioned.

Only about a hundred times.

A warm smile melted onto Severus’s face as he finely chopped the small green leaves into the most delicate little pieces.

Luna couldn’t help but stare at him as he worked. His long slender fingers had a way of dancing with the knife. His face, which all too often had a cold and solemn look to it, now had a warm smile that while subtle, seemed to bring color to his entire face. He was beautiful, completely in his element.

Severus carefully scooped up the chopped peppermint and placed it into Luna’s hand, “Here. You do the honors.”

Luna hesitated, but when she saw the pure anticipation on Severus’s face she tossed the leaves into the cauldron. The spirals of purple smoke that were chaotically spurting out of the cauldron appeared to calm and find a consistent pattern.

“Huh.” Luna mused, clearly impressed.

Severus took a step closer to her and smiled, “Peppermint removes the rather unpleasant side effect of the drinker singing out of tune love songs.”

Luna giggled.

“You can try to smell it now.” Severus said, his head nodding towards the cauldron encouragingly.

Luna leaned over the swirling shimmering pink potion and inhaled deeply, her mind racing about all the different possibilities of scents she would smell. She paused and then stood up with a look of disappointment plastered on her face.

Oh, shit. Did I mess up?

“What?” Severus questioned.

“I don’t smell anything.” Luna said, “Are you sure the peppermint didn’t mess with it?”

“I’m certain.” Severus said sternly, “What do you mean you don’t smell anything?”

“I mean it doesn’t have a smell. It smells the same leaning over the cauldron as it does standing right where I am now.” Luna said.

“Huh.” Severus lifted a hand and rubbed his chin as if deep in thought, “Maybe what you love is Slughorn’s potions class.”

Luna laughed and playfully smacked Severus on the shoulder, “Oh, shut it, you.”

Severus gave a chuckle, and Luna realized this was the first time she had really ever heard him genuinely laugh. It was rich and deep.

“So it really smells like the classroom to you?” Severus pushed.

“I mean, not the classroom per say. The dungeon certainly has a distinct smell to it… I don’t know how to describe it. It’s not the dungeon itself that I smell. It’s just that where I’m standing right here smells no different to me than the Amortentia does.” Luna attempted to explain.

“Can you be more specific?” Severus asked.

Luna closed her eyes and inhaled, “It smells like sandalwood, blood oranges, ink, parchment, and the singe of smoke you get on your fingertips when you’ve spent too much time working with a potion.”

Severus looked down at his ink stained fingers. For a brief moment he hoped that it was him that she was smelling, but he quickly shoved that feeling down into a bottle with the rest of his emotions.

“Oh, just wonderful!” Professor Slughorn sang as he clamored his way over to the pair.

Startled, both Luna and Severus jumped before turning their attention to Professor Slughorn, who was now bent practically in half deeply inhaling the vapors coming out of their cauldron.

When he finally pried himself away from the vapors of their concoction his eyes were glazed over as if he were drunk.

“You two have done a wonderful job! Absolutely superb! Quite the potions pair you two make! Well done! 25 points to Slytherin for each of you on a job well done.” Professor Slughorn mused as he walked off towards the next pair of students, his walk a little more wobbly than usual.

“Oh, Gods!” Professor Slughorn groaned, his face practically turning green. “What did you two do?” his voice was now comically nasally as he had pinched his nose to not smell the brew in the student’s cauldron that was just as offcolor as Professor Slughorns skin.

The class erupted in laughter. Except for the pair who had made the disastrous brew, who began to melt out of pure embarrassment into their stools.

Idiots.

Professor Slughorn walked to the front of the room and removed a handkerchief from his coat pocket. It was painfully discolored, suggested not only that it was not just for show, but also that it was not washed frequently enough. He obnoxiously blew his nose and then tucked the dirty hanky back into his pocket. “Now then, I must remind you that love potions are banned here at Hogwarts. So please, no smuggling out any samples from todays class.” Professor Slughorn motioned towards the previous pair of student’s cauldron, “Especially yours. Who knows what that would do.” He skin began to shift to that nauseating green once more just thinking about the foul smell that pair had managed to create.

Professor Slughorn returned his attention to the Hufflepuff girl from earlier in the lesson, “Which reminds me. I’m going to need to confiscate that vial from Zonko’s.”

The girl grumbled, but handed over the vial to Professor Slughorn, who promptly tugged the vial into the tiny pocket hidden inside his jacket.

Severus and Luna walked out of the classroom together, but Severus stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Sirius leaning against the stone wall just opposite the classroom door.

The Hufflepuff girl and her group of friends were now huddled around Sirius, vying for his attention. Sirius was clearing basking in the radiance of their attention, but he was clearly not interested in any of them.

Why do so many girls look at him like that? Can’t they see him for what he really is?

“Lunch?” Sirius asked casually as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on with his back and strolled towards Luna.

Luna hesitated a minute and turned to look at Severus, who had looked away pretending to be preoccupied with something else.

If I don’t make eye contact maybe he will leave me alone for once.

“Yeah, sure, I’m hungry.” Luna finally answered.

“Great. Meet you in the hall with the guys.” Sirius smiled and headed off. The pack of hormonal girls followed him like lemmings.

Luna turned to look at Severus, “Are you going to lunch too?”

“What?” Severus asked surprised.

“Are you hungry? You can come to the Great Hall with me.” Luna questioned.

She’s just being nice to me because she pities me.

“Oh… No, thank you. I was just going to go for a walk outside. Maybe read some by the lake.” Severus gave a slight smile.

“That actually sounds really nice.” Luna adjusted her satchel over her shoulder, “Maybe I’ll just grab something to go from the Hall and see you out there.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” Severus said.

“I want to.” Luna replied cheerfully.

Severus’s smile was genuine this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Severus sighed in relief as he relished the feeling of the cool early autumn air as it kissed his skin. The temperature had just started to drop, but the leaves hadn’t begun to change colors just yet. He felt a weight come off his shoulders as he walked out of the castle walls. The loud hustle and bustle of the castle hallways was replaced by a comforting silence that enveloped him in a hug and calmed his nerves.

He loved going outside to walk or read during lunch. Any other time of day there were plenty of people out walking the grounds, but at this particular time of day he had them all to himself.

Usually.

“Hey Snivellus!” a shrill voiced called out from behind him.

Seriously?

Severus froze in his tracks, and his grip on the leather bound book in his hands tightened so much that his knuckles went white. For a moment he stood there in silence, his breath labored with inner rage, silently praying that they would just leave. He spun around quickly, “That’s not my name.” Severus snarled.

“That’s not my name.” James Potter mocked while making a pigish face. Sirius, Peter, and James all laughed. Remus and Lily hung back nervously, but neither did anything to deter their friends behavior.

James strutted towards Severus, a rather nasty grin plastered on his smug face, “I see you’re out to lunch with all your friends.” James mocked as he motioned towards the empty grounds.

Severus’s lips pressed tightly together in attempt to keep his rage from spilling out. He hugged his book to his chest, but remained silent.

Just leave me alone.

“Whatcha reading?” Sirius teased in a sing-song voice as he reached for the book.

“None of your business.” Severus responded coldly.

“Come on now, don’t be like that Snivellus.” Sirius goaded, the devil burning in his eyes.

“I told you, that’s not my name.” Severus spat, his voice now shaking with rage. He was finding it harder to swallow the venom of the beast that lay dormant within him.

“Ooooh hoooo, tough guy?” Peter chimed in, practically tripping as he stepped closer to Severus. His voice cracked when he spoke.

James scoffed, “The dungeon bat gets out of his cavern for one day and suddenly thinks he can take on the world.”

“Come on, let me just have a peak at the bloody book.” Sirius pushed as he once again lunged for the book. The cheery tone in his voice was gone and replaced with impatience teetering on anger.

Severus stepped back to dodge Sirius’s advances, but tripped on a tree root sticking out of the ground behind him. He stumbled and fell backwards. The stinging on his backside felt like nothing compared to the stinging that he now felt in his pride.

“Pathetic.” James sneered as he pushed his crooked glasses with one finger back up to their correction position on his nose.

Severus attempted to get up, but just as he was getting back to his feet, James reached into his robes and aimed his wand at Severus.

“Expelliarmus!” James shouted and Severus’s wand went flying from his hand, landing in some rather tall grass.

Panicked, Severus began frantically searching for his wand in the tall grass, tossing fistfuls of clumps of weeds and brush to the sides.

Come on, come on!

“Impedimenta!” James shouted, sending Severus once again tumbling to the ground.

This time he fell face first, his jaw smashing against a protruding sharp rock. The pain was instantaneous. Blood began to drip from his chin.

Severus’s thoughts went blank.

“You fucking asshole!” Severus shouted as he wiped his chin and looked down to see his fingertips covered in blood. Another drop fell from his chin and mixed with the dirt at his feet. His gaze returned to the clan of bullies, his obsidian eyes darkening beyond imagine.

“Tsk tsk” Sirius tutted, “What a filthy mouth you’ve got on you, Snivellus.” He placed a hand on his chest and feigned disgust.

“I can fix that.” James jeered, “Scourgify!”

Bright pink soap bubbles began to foam within Severus’s mouth and pour out his lips. They dripped down his face, mixing in a rather unpleasant manner with the blood on his chin. It made his fresh wound singe and burn. The taste was foul and Severus began to choke on the foam building up in his throat that prevented him from breathing properly. He felt as if he was going to be sick, but he stifled the urge to vomit for hear that he might asphyxiate.

“Ha, nice one James.” Peter egged him on. His rat-like face contorted in a rather disturbing smile.

“And now, for the grand finale” James announced, waving his wand arm in the air like a twisted circus ringleader, “Levicorpus.”

Severus began to slowly float in the air. His body writhed in a feeble attempt to keep his feet on the ground. He was about ten feet in the air when his body began to twist to turn him upside down.

“Let’s take a peak under those robes, shall we? Let’s see if you have the equipment to back up the attitude you just gave me.” James spit furiously.

Please.

Lily and Remus both looked horrified, but neither one of them made any attempt to stop James. They simply stood there and watched it happen.

Severus desperately attempted to scream for help, but the pink soap bubbles formed a gag.

I want to die.

“Expelliarmus!” a familiar female voice shouted.

James’s wand went flying from his grimy paw, and the moment it left his hands Severus was dropped back down to the earth with a loud thud.

James turned towards the voice, his face beat red with rage, spit foaming around his lips as he screamed, “Who the fu-”

“Flipendo.” Luna whispered with a soft rage, interrupting James mid sentence and sending him flying backwards into the field of grass where Severus’s wand was still lost.

“Luna!” Sirius scolded, “What the hell was that for?”

“What do you mean what was that for? Look at him!” Luna practically screamed as she motioned towards Severus who was just now getting back on his feet. He was covered in a mixture of dirt, soap, and blood that formed a rather repulsive color when mixed together.

“Oh, come on. It’s just Snivellus.” Sirius grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair. A nervous habit of his from childhood.

“His name is Severus.” Luna said sternly, noticing the moment of weakness in her brother.

“Whatever.” Sirius scoffed as he reached out a hand and helped James back to his feet, “Come on, let’s just go.”

As the group headed back to the castle, Luna stood there, her chest rapidly rising and falling with labored breath. When she was sure that they weren’t going to return, she turned around and headed over to Severus, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Severus said, clearly trying to hold back tears.

She must think I’m so pathetic.

“What am I saying? Of course you’re not okay.” Luna sighed and picked up Severus’s satchel. She reached inside and pulled out a familiar small vial of fine yellow powder, “Is this the yarrow powder?”

“Yes.” Severus responded meekly.

Luna popped the cork off the vial and poured a little bit of the fine powder onto Severus’s chin. He winced. “Sorry.” Luna whispered as she winced sympathetically.

“It’s not your fault.” He responded.

“All the same.” Luna smiled softly as she gingerly wiped his wound clean with first aide supplies she found in Severus’s satchel.

“I told you I get hurt a lot.” Severus gave a half-hearted laugh, but there was a darkness to his tone.

Luna frowned, “Please tell me this doesn’t happen all the time.”

Please don’t look at me like that.

“Not all the time.” Severus groaned as Luna wiped his wound, “… Just sometimes.”

Luna sighed, “I’m sorry.”

She thinks I’m pathetic. I am pathetic.

“I told you, it’s not your fault.” Severus repeated sternly.

There was an awkward moment of silence.

“Are you hungry?” Luna asked.

“What?” Severus responded.

Luna reached into her own satchel and pulled out two sandwiches, “I stopped at the Great Hall before coming out here. I know you said you were going to come out here to walk and read by the lake. I figured you’d be hungry… and I was hoping that maybe I could join you?”

What the hell?

“S-sure” Severus said, his voice clearly a little shaky.

Luna beamed and handed him one of the sandwiches. Severus took it from her with a faint smile. After relocating Severus’s wand in the brush, the two made their way down the path a bit until they came to a large oak tree on a hill just above the lake. It’s looming height suggested it had been there for years, perhaps as longer than the school had been open. There was a distinct patch of dirt at the base of the tree where grass had clearly stopped growing decades ago. It was obvious that over the years many students had sat here gazing out at the waters of the lake.

“This is one of my favorite spots.” Severus said as he took a seat at the base of the tree.

“It’s beautiful.” Luna remarked as she sat down next to him.

They sat in silence, eating their lunch and watching the wind blow little ripples of water across the lake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

“No, no, don’t cut it.” Severus said as he quickly snatched the silver dagger from Luna’s hand.

“What?” Luna boggled at him, “Did I mess something up already?”

“Technically, no.” Severus grinned.

Luna’s forehead crinkled with confusion.

“You get the juices out of the Sopophorous bean much more effectively if you crush it with the dagger instead of cutting it.” Severus said as he methodically pressed the shimmering silver blade at an odd angle into the bean against the cutting board. There was a soft crackle sound as the exocarp cracked open and thick silver juice oozed out from the pearly white bean.

“Where did you learn that little trick?” Luna questioned.

“Trial and error.” Severus responded as he poured the Sopophorous juices into the cauldron. He flicked his wand at large hooked spoon in the cauldron and it began to stir. It mixed the contents seven times counterclockwise before stopping, reversing direction for one stir, and then continued to repeat this pattern.

Luna watched the ladle dance in the cauldron and then peered back down at her textbook for a moment before turning her gaze to Severus, “Is this trial and error too? The extra clockwise spin?”

Severus simply smiled.

“You’re really something else you know that.” Luna praised.

“What?” Severus practically stuttered, “No, I’m not.”

“Don’t be modest. You’re bloody brilliant, Sev.” Luna beamed.

A faint rosey pink flushed Severus’s face.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were teaching this class one day. Hell, teaching your techniques to all the potioneers of the world.” Luna said earnestly.

“It’s just a few tweaks. Nothing major.” Severus insisted as his gaze moved to the floor.

“I wish you could see you like I do.” Luna resigned.

“… What?” Severus questioned.

“Oh, excellent work you too! You’re turning out to be quite the potioneer duo!” Professor Slughorn chimed as he leaned deeply over the still stirring cauldron to peer inside. “As a matter of fact, I was wondering, Miss Black, if you would be interested in a little soirée I’m holding this weekend. I call it my Slug Club. It’s rather exclusive. I only invite students who I think really have potential to make waves in the wizarding world. What do you say?”

“Actually, Professor, If you’re looking for wizards who will change the world one day, you should really be asking Severus to attend. He’s the brilliant mind behind our success in your class.” Luna insisted.

What?

“Well then, my invitation extends to you my boy. What do you say Mister Snape?” Professor Slughorn solicited.

You can’t say no now that she stuck her neck out for you.

“Um… Sure.” Severus mumbled.

“And you, Miss Black?” Professor Slughorn pushed.

“Of course.” Luna replied.

“Excellent!” Professor Slughorn said emphatically as he open his jacket and procured a pair of embossed party invitations. “I do so look forward to seeing you both there. Please dress formally.”

Ugh, what did I just agree to?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

When Severus wandered into the Slytherin common room after his last class of the day had concluded, Luna and Regulus were sitting together on black leather couch in the center of the room in front of a roaring fire. Luna had a parcel on her lap that was wrapped with brown paper and tied with a simple string. The two appeared to be huddled close together like thieves and laughing.

“Dad is going to kill you if he finds out.” Regulus chuckled.

“Oh, please. He has like a thousand of them. He’s never going to notice if just one of them goes missing.” Luna rolled her eyes.

Curious.

“Evening.” Severus drawled.

Luna and Regulus practically jumped out of their skin, like children caught misbehaving by their parents.

Severus’s eyebrow peaked at this behavior, “Up to no good are we?” he teased.

“No.” Luna said defensively.

“Yes.” Regulus said at the same time as Luna’s denial with a rather cheeky smile plastered across his face.

Luna gave Regulus a playful smack on the shoulder and Regulus laughed heartily in return.

“Come on, join us in our bad behavior.” Regulus teased as he scooted over to allow Severus to sit between him and his sister. He gently patted the spot on the couch in a welcoming manner.

What’s the catch?

Severus cautiously sat down between them.

“Here.” Luna said as she pressed the parcel into Severus’s lap, “This is for you.”

There it is.

“It isn’t my birthday.” Severus said cautiously.

“I wasn’t aware that I needed a special occasion to give a gift.” Luna tormented, “Just open it!”

Severus surgically opened the parcel, taking special care to unfold each little bit of paper instead of simply shredding it. When he finally had it unraveled, a cloak as dark as the night sky lay on the brown parchment.

It’s gorgeous.

“Try it on!” Luna exclaimed. The smile on her face was akin to innocent excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

Severus hesitated, but Regulus gave him a gentle push on the shoulder with his own shoulder, “Come on, Sev.”

Did he just call me Sev? Are we… friends?

Severus stood up and began to fasten the cloak, his slender fingers making quick work of the ties. The cloak enveloped him.

“It looks fantastic.” Luna beamed, her eyes widening to take him all in.

“Well, yeah.” Regulus scoffed, “It’s dad’s. It’s expensive. Of course it looks good.”

“It’s what?!” Severus exclaimed as he began to undo the cloak with a look of pure panic in his eyes.

Luna shot up from the couch and grabbed Severus’s hands to stop him, “It’s fine, Sev. I had Kreacher mail it to me. My father has tons of these, he’s never going to notice one missing.”

“I really don’t want to bring the wrath of Orion Black upon myself.” Severus said nervously.

“Kreacher won’t tell him. Really. He isn’t that loyal to my dad. Now if I had tried to get him to take something from mother… Well that would have been a completely different story.” Luna grinned.

“You’d be dead for sure. Both of you. And Kreacher. And probably me. And Sirius too for good measure.” Regulus chuckled.

Severus gulped.

“I got you this.” Luna said as she tidied up the bits of the cloak that Severus had undone, “So that you could feel like the superhero that you are. You know, like a cape.”

Oh Gods.

Regulus almost choked on his own spit from trying to contain his laughter.

“Don’t.” Luna warned as she pointed a threatening finger at her brother.

Regulus mimed locking his lips with a key and tossing it to the side before raising his arms like a criminal being arrested.

“I know it sounds silly… and maybe childish” Luna said tentatively, “But when you have this on I want you to see you like I see you. Brilliant. Caring. Strong.”

“I’m not..” Severus began, but he was quickly interrupted.

“You are.” Luna insisted, “When you wear this cloak, I want you to feel like a superhero. To be brave.”

Regulus shot up to his feet, “Like this, Sev.” Regulus stood with his feet firmly planet, his chest puffed up, and his hands resting on his hips like a hero right out of a comic book.

They aren’t messing with me… this is genuine.

Severus laughed nervously, and replicated Regulus’s pose, albeit with much less confidence.

“I love it.” Luna giggled as she clasped her hands in front of her chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Severus crooked his neck in a feeble attempt to see past the towering stack of books that he held as he maneuvered from the Restricted Section of the library to a small table in the corner of the room where he hoped to read undisturbed. His face contorted in a wince as his hip banged against the corner of a bookshelf on the side of his book tower that he couldn’t see.

“Aw, hurt ourself, did we Snivellus?” a familiar voice taunted.

Severus froze in his tracks, the book at the very top of the stack fell to the ground with a thud.

“Looks like you dropped something.” A second familiar voice chimed in, “Here, let me help.”

Can’t I just have one day…

The tower of books came crashing down to the ground, revealing James and Sirius in their wake. James had smacked the books from Severus’s hands, and stood there with a smug look on his face. “Oops.”

Severus looked down at the books strewn on the floor, some of which had had their spines cracked. He felt a rage building up inside him that longed to be unfettered.

The pair of boys began to cackle like the witches in muggle fairy tales, watching Severus’s burning gaze towards the ground.

“You’re so clumsy. Did you get some of the grease from your hair on your hands? That’s probably why you dropped that.” James sneered.

Normally Severus would sulk away and have an imaginary argument with his bullies in his mind when he got back to the dormitory. He would think of all the things that he wanted to say but never had the courage or the confidence to in person. Today was different. As he stared at the books on the floor he caught a glimpse of the bottom of his cloak billowing in the light draft that always seemed to be present in the library. Flashes of him and Regulus posing like super heroes in the common room while Luna laughed went through his mind. And he felt brave.

I don’t deserve this.

“Do you have no respect for anything?” Snape annunciated each work with deadly precision as he slowly raised his gaze from the floor to meet James. His obsidian orbs darkened like night as the hurt and rage he had spent years bottling up poured out of him.

Rage from being an outcast. Rage from being tormented relentlessly. Rage from being beat and called names from his father. Rage from his mother who watched it all happen. Rage from the dark thoughts that he poised his own mind with about himself.

James took a step backwards, caught off guard by the sudden change of demeanor, “Wha-”

Severus cut him off abruptly, “Do you have any idea how valuable these books are?”

James snorted, “Valuable? They’re a couple of ugly books. They’ve got torn pages and broken spines.”

Severus gave an exhausted sigh, “The value of things does not lie in their appearance.”

“That sounds like shit ugly people say.” Sirius chuckled.

Severus scoffed, “I am constantly amazed at the level of delusion people must possess to think that beauty is the same as goodness. The ladies may swoon over you now, but your ugly hearts will rot you from the inside out. I only pray that I am there to witness the day people finally see you for who you really are.”

Severus gathered his books, taking the time to inspect each one for damage before placing it on the desk next to him.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sirius said, his chest puffed out defensively.

“It means I hope you choke.” Severus said coldly as he sat down and began to read.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

“Gods, please tell me that you actually said that last bit.” Regulus said eagerly, perched on the edge of the leather couch in the common room, “And I mean out loud, not in your head.”

Severus gave a lighthearted chuckle, “I did.”

Regulus fell back into the couch and full on belly laughed, “Oh, I can’t wait to tease Sirius about this. Good on you, Sev. It’s about time you stood up to that lot.”

Luna walked up to Severus and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a deep hug, “I’m so proud of you.”

I’m proud of me too.

Severus stood with his arms awkwardly straight as his sides, still as a statue as Luna hugged him. His body may have been frozen in that position, but inside his heart flicked with an unusual warmth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Severus broke himself out of his self-induced trance and finally looked up from his potions textbook. How long had he been at it? He could have sworn the sun was still up when he had started, but it was dark now. He could, and frequently did, lose himself in his studies.

He looked back down to his book and glanced over the tiny handwritten notes scattered among the margins. He was more than just a few chapters ahead of the class, he was practically finished with the book. He yawned, but caught himself just before his hand reached his mouth and pulled it away. It was absolutely covered in ink stains.

He closed his worn textbook and tossed it into his leather satchel. He gathered the rest of his things quietly, after all he wasn’t sure what time it was, and he didn’t want to disturb anyone else in the dorms.

He made his way quietly to the bathroom and dropped his satchel on the floor next to the door. The echoing thud of his bag hitting the ceramic tiles of the floor let him know that he was alone. He locked the door behind him, sighed wearily, and began to undress. He always showered late at night so that he didn’t have to deal with other people. The thought that someone might see him disrobed absolutely horrified him. Hell, he even avoided looking in the mirror during his evening routine.

Severus procured a small bottle from his satchel. It was a special shampoo blend that he had crafted for himself. Plenty of people had referred to him as “greasy” and he was experimenting with creating his own blend that would alleviate this issue.

He turned the shower water on, but remained outside the stall allowing the water to heat up. Dancing waves of steam poured out of the shower stall and began to fill the room. The mirrors fogged over and he no longer felt worried about catching a glimpse of himself. He popped the stopper off the bottle and absentmindedly took a whiff of his shampoo. It smelled delightful, like sandalwood and blood orange. Severus froze for a moment as his thoughts raced.

It was at this moment that he noticed the light singe of smoke on his fingertips from working with cauldrons and the splotches of ink along the sides of his fingers and his palms.

Earlier in the week when Luna had described what she smelled in the Amortentia… it couldn’t be.

But there it was, both in and on his hands. Sandalwood, blood orange, smoke, and ink. What she had smelled was him. He shook his head dismissively, as if to shake his own thoughts out of his head.

Surely not?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Severus sat uncomfortably next to Regulus on the black leather couch near the fireplace of the Slytherin common room. He was dressed in a high collared dress robe of varying shades of black and grey. He had also included the cloak that Luna had gifted him. The robes long sleeves with tightly clasped buttons and equally buttoned up beck ensured that very little if any of himself was showing. He felt more secure by hiding his body away behind those buttons. Each one a tiny shield fighting off anyone from seeing him underneath.

He couldn’t sit still, and found his hands constantly fidgeting with the buttons on his clothes. The thread in the button over his wrist had begun to fray as a result. Butterflies danced in his stomach.

This isn’t a date. This is a professor led social event. This isn’t a date.

“You alright, mate?” Regulus asked with one eyebrow peaked.

“What?” Severus said rather surprised. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he had almost forgotten that Regulus was even in the room.

“You’re all…” Regulus fumbled his own hands around rather dramatically, mimicking Severus’s hands, “I don’t know. All twitchy.”

“I’m fine.” Severus assured him as he clasped his hands together and forced them to behave and sit still. The frayed button was all too obvious now and it pained him that he didn’t have time to stitch it to be more presentable before the party.

A sound of a heavy door shutting from the girls upper dormitory entrance filled the room, causing both boys to snap their attention upwards.

Luna was adorned with a black and green layered dress. The top was black with long sleeves and black buttons running down the sides of her waist. The second layer of fabric peaked out beneath the top layer and was emerald green with black lace florals ontop. A small black silk bow was tied in the center of her collar.

“That looks new” Regulus smiled as he went over and gave his sister a hug, “You’re gonna drive those nerds at Slughorn’s party nuts.”

Luna giggled and playfully smacked Regulus, “Shut up.”

“Fine. You look ugly. Is that better?” Regulus teased.

Stop it.

Luna full on belly laughed now.

“A right old maid. You’ll be single your whole life. Mum and Dad will get no grandchildren from you, that’s for sure.” Regulus continued to speak over Luna’s laughter.

“That’s enough.” Severus said sternly.

“What? Don’t you think my sister looks ugly, Sev?” Regulus tormented, “What’s the issue? Do you fancy her, Severus?”

“N-no. Of course not.” Severus stuttered.

Luna stopped laughing. She felt her heart sink to the very pit of her stomach.

“I’m just teasing.” Regulus assured him, “Just keep an eye on her at the dance, yeah? Don’t let any of those nerds get too fresh with her. Bring her back in one piece.”

“I will” Severus smiled nervously.

“Good, because I really would hate to kill you. I actually kinda like you.” Regulus had a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Regulus!” Luna scolded him.

Regulus simply chuckled, “Go on now, you’re gonna be late.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Severus and Luna walked down the empty halls, the light from the tips of their wands the only thing pushing back the pitch black darkness. It was late at night, and most of the school was sequestered to their dormitories. They, along with the other attendees of the Slug Club, had been granted special privileges to be out late tonight to attend Professor Slughorn’s soirée.

Their footsteps echoed so loudly that they bounced off the walls and gave the illusion that someone was walking behind them.

Luna inched closer and closer to Severus as they made their way down the hall until finally the side of her arm was brushing against his.

The sudden sensation of another touching him startled Severus, and the nervousness he felt only heightened as he turned to see Luna’s face lit up faintly by the glow of their wands next to him.

“Sorry.” She whispered, as if they weren’t the only two people in the hall. “Just a bit nervous in the dark.”

“I’m right here.” Severus reassured her.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to Professor Slughorns office. Every now and then the natural sway in their arms from walking would cause their hands to graze one another. Each time it sent a cold panic into Severus, like ice shards piercing his heart.

They gave the secret knock that Professor Slughorn insisted everyone in the Slug Club memorize and the door swung open. Not magically, but by Professor Slughorn himself who stood proudly just beyond the threshold in an ill-fitted plaid suit. “You rushed the triplet in the middle, but I’ll let it slide this time.”

Why did I agree to come here?

He took a step back and ushered the pair into the room with a grand sweeping of his arm, “Welcome, welcome!” he voice bellowed.

Art by @deathnotelu Instagram: amber_dnl

The pair walked awkwardly through the door together. They felt like they had walked out on to stage in the middle of a play; as if the spotlight had suddenly shown on them and they were standing there with no lines rehearsed. It felt as if everyone was starring at them.

They were.

Kill me.

“Drinks are just over there.” Professor Slughorn broke the silence as he pointed towards an elaborately dressed buffet table on the opposite side of the room. It was adorned with several large bowls of varying drinks.

“Thanks” Luna gave an awkward smile and headed towards the drinks. Severus followed close behind.

The novelty of the new party guests wore off quickly and soon the room was back to murmur of voices, fake laughter, and clinking glasses.

“What do you want to drink?” Severus asked as he grabbed two ornate crystal goblets.

“Fizzleberry, please.” Luna responded.

Severus poured himself the same, although he had never actually tried it before. It took him longer than he would admit to pour the drinks, as his hands were shaking. It filled him with self-hatred. Potioneering was a craft that required steady hands, and on any other day he was steady as a muggle surgeon. Not today though. Crowds and parties were certainly not his thing.

I hate everyone.

“Thanks.” Luna smiled as she took the drink from him.

Almost everyone.

Severus attempted to socialize at first, but he couldn’t help but feeling like a lost puppy following Luna around while she talked to the other guests. She would look to him to join in on the conversation from time to time, but remained silent. He was sure she was just trying to include him, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was just a disappointment.

She probably regrets telling Slughorn to invite me.

Eventually, not wishing to be a burden or to spoil the mood of the party, Severus had sat himself alone at a table in the corner of the room. He had been holding the same cup of fizzleberry soda since they arrived, but he hadn’t taken a single sip of it. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if his stomach could handle it, and he was absolutely not going to deal with the embarrassment of throwing up at a party. The other students already had enough ammunition to use against him.

When he finally took a sip of his drink he realized that it had long since gone flat. He wretched and his face tightened up in a painful looking grimace.

Ugh, flat and unbearably sweet.

If it were up to him, he would have slipped out and gone back to the dormitories soon after arriving. Of course he wouldn’t though, he had promised Regulus that he would look after Luna. Although, if he was being honest, he knew that she didn’t need looking after. After all, she had been the one to recently come to his defense.

“Severus?” Luna said his name in a tone that suggested it was not the first time she had tried to get his attention.

“Hm?” He barely got out as he snapped back to reality.

“Let’s go.” Luna said encouragingly as she nudged his chair with her leg.

Please.

“The party isn’t over.” Severus said, although inside he was dying to leave.

“I know, but Professor Slughorn cracked open a vintage wine that he said everyone could have some of as long as they didn’t tell. I’m sure no one will notice if we leave, and even if they do they’ll probably forget come morning. Let’s go. You look so uncomfortable.”

Oh thank the Gods.

“Alright then, if you’re sure.” Severus said tenatively.

“Now when you’ve made a name for yourself, don’t forget who it was who set you along your path, yes?” Professor Slughorn said as he lifted a glass of wine that was certainly not his first for the night high above his head.

Sure enough, not a soul noticed them leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

As soon as the door shut behind them, the loud chattering sounds of the party vanished completely. Clearly Professor Slughorn had placed a silencing charm on the door so as not to draw an unwanted attention to what really goes on in a Slug Club party.

Severus immediately started heading back towards the Slytherin dormitories, desperately wanting to put some distance between himself and that wretched party. When he only head one set of footsteps echoing in the hall he turned to check on Luna, “Coming?”

“Can we take a detour?” Luna asked, her hands nervously clasped behind her back like a child trying to act innocent to gets sweets from her parents.

“I don’t think that’s very wise. It’s late and I promised Regulus I’d get you home safely. He said he would hate to kill me, you remember?” Severus smiled.

“Just a quick one.” Luna pleaded as she leaned forwards on her toes just slightly.

Severus sighed, “Fine. A quick one.”

Luna beamed and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him off with her in the opposite direction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

It was much lighter outside the castle walls at night than it was inside of them. Thousands of twinkling stars up above lit up the night sky and illuminated the walkways of the grounds.

The sounds of owls hooting and katydids chirpping filled the night air. Sounds like branches snapping beneath creatures wandering in the Forbidden Forest carried so much father in the night; their rustling being able to be faintly heard from the banks of the Black Lake.

The pair was seated at the base of the ancient oak tree by the lake. Hundreds of fireflies danced in the sky, creating little orbs of light that waltzed with them on the surface of the water. Every now and again a firefly would wander over to them, its little green light illuminating their faces for a fleeting moment.

“Beautiful.” Severus whispered.

“Right?” Luna smiled, “Autumn is just beginning, so this is the last chance we’ll probably have to see them this year. I just wanted to see them one more time before we get into the nitty gritty of the school year. A bit of nature’s magick to get me through the year.”

She has no idea I didn’t mean the fireflies.

She leaned back against the base of the might oak, which Severus was already leaning against; their shoulders pushing against each other.

“It reminds me of when I was little. I loved watching them in the garden. When I was very young I would cry when they would go away for the year. Regulus actually caught me some in a jar once to keep as pets… Sirius smashed them and painted his face with their glowing inside. He thought it looked like war paint.” Luna laughed hollowly.

Asshole.

“I’m sorry.” Severus said solemnly.

“For as sweet as he can be to me, he also has a tendency to hurt things that I love. I don’t know if it’s on purpose or not.” Luna sighed.

“What else has he hurt?” Severus asked, his gaze still fixed on the fireflies over the lake. When he received silence as an answer, he turned to look at Luna. She sat in utter silence looking at him.

Severus swallowed, but his mouth was just as dry as his throat and offered no comfort from the nervousness that now muted him like a cotton ball in his mouth.

She can’t possibly mean…

Saying nothing, Luna slid her hand closer to Severus’s.

The pair both looked down as their hands dared to close the gap between one another. Their fingers anxiously playing chicken over who would touch the other one first.

Come on, Severus, be brave.

Finally Severus’s pointer finger gently brushed the top of her knuckle.

Their eyes met and Severus could see himself in the reflection of her eyes. And for once, he could really see himself. Not as how his father saw him. Not as how his tormentors saw him. Not even as how he saw himself… but as how she saw him. Brilliant. Caring. Strong.

Art by @okeydokeylackey https://okdl.carrd.co/

He leaned in towards her cautiously, expecting her to pull away at any moment. But she didn’t. Their lips grazed against one another, and Severus felt his heart stop. In a fraction of a second that felt like an eternity he waited for her to jerk away from him utterly repulsed. But she didn’t. To his utter surprise, she pressed her lips back into his. His hand wrapped gingerly around her cheek and pulled her in closer as he dared to go in for another kiss.

[fragileizywriting]

you're, like, seventeen and you are the world's most awkwardest alpha. you are too tall, too broad-shouldered, pack quite a lot of muscle naturally even though you don't work out, and every single morning you're praying that you won't just one day smack your forehead into the top of the doorframe to your room. you've removed your braces a few years ago, but still hide your teeth because you find your fangs to be too big for your mouth. when you were younger and you got into fights with other kids at school, one of them punched you on the cheek so hard, your fangs actually sank into your own lip. you actually went completely through it, poking out just underneath. you have scars there. snake bites. how ironic.

you have a friend. best friend. barely-ever-apart friend who is an omega. she's much smaller than you, but her personality is louder than you are taller. she's a hard worker. a take-advantage-er. every time she sees you, she takes advantage of your soft, buttery heart and begs to watch documentaries. it's her favorite thing. you find yourself researching all kind of facts about penguins, because she finds them so funny looking, and you like that. she says they remind her of you, especially when they fall and get back up, because they look so humiliated after something so simple just happened.

you are seventeen and you think about her a lot.

every single time the two of you are together, the two of you are together. the two of you are playing video games, catching up on homework, babysitting some cousin from either side of your family or doing errands— she's running across paris like a cat chasing her own tail, trying to keep up with her busy family; you're following her because you like her company and you worry when she's all by herself running around the city and you know no one will mess with her since you look like a brute— or even at her work, you help out too. you look awful in a hair net. but so does she. you're not so self conscious about yourself looking stupid with your hair pulled up when she also looks like an egg.

a pretty egg.

but it's summer time. most of the times you see her during summer vacation is when she's at the cash register, bored and doodling away at a sketchbook with ideas that she confesses she'll never be able to act on because of how her parents need her to work at the bakery to keep it afloat. she sits on a barstool in front of the register, next to the vitrines that have pretty confectionaries that need to be refrigerated. she's taking advantage of the cold that seeps through the cracks of the glass door. when you show up— ducking through the door, a habit you can't stop now— you can see whisps of black hair curling around her temples. her bangs are flat. humidity sticks to her white skin like dew. in your attempt to work your mouth again— desperately trying to remember how your tongue is supposed to move in order to speak— she's already rolling her eyes, hopping off the stool and telling you that she'll make you that one green drink that you really like. the spinach one. she has a baggy of it close by, near the blender as if she's been expecting you. she always does.

you don't expect her to bend down, though.

you're in shock— your tongue isn't working, neither is your mouth, but your eyes definitely work. you can't stop looking at her shorts. pretty pink shorts, jeans, high-waisted because that gives her enough space to embroider little silly designs on the pockets and make them stand out. she'd stitched green flowers on the lip of every pocket, dotted by dark pink flowers. you'd say the name of the flower if you could remember, but it's gone to you— you're most focused on the shape of her butt, anyway. strong thighs and calves glisten with that damp sweat, you're still at a loss for words when she says something about how she put some bananas in the cupboard she's reaching for. her smile is blinding when she's finally done making you that smoothie. she refuses to take a sip. she hates spinach. that's alright; you seem to be very thirsty, anyway. you swallow all of it down before she can even tell you that she snuck in some oatmilk in there instead of regular. you're not a vegan— you eat eggs, you drink milk, you're okay with butter— but the fact that she's trying to get the smoothie to not taste like hell to you is so touching.

you're seventeen when you get back home, hide in your room, and you think about the entire interaction. about how when she gave you the smoothie cup, your hand just dwarfed her little fingers. you think about those hands. those fingers. how they couldn't get around the cup but yours could just-almost meet. you think about how she gives a big smile, proud of herself for making you something that you like drinking. it's the smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes, and you can see it— almost briefly, like a dream— what those smile lines will look like in a few decades, still looking at you, still twinkling with endearment towards you.

you're thinking about that one time she took a sip of your straw, just when you told her to give it a sip. just one go. spinach isn't that bad when there's something sweet involved. you remember her lips around the straw. how you hadn't thought it through. how you'd watch her grimace— not because she was sharing a straw with you, but because she didn't like the taste. an indirect kiss. you'd indirectly kissed her. her mouth was around the straw. a perfect 'O'.

you're popping a knot before you can even stop yourself.

[beardedmrbean]

People go to many extremes to celebrate St. Patrick's Day, but generating green stool shouldn't be one of them.

Your morning trip to the bathrooom revealed you may have had one too many green beers last night. Do you need to be worried about green poop?

To find out all things green poop, we checked in with Mayo Clinic, UnityPoint Health, healthline.com and medicine.net.

Here's what you need to know:

Is it OK if your poop is green?

According to mayoclinic.org, all shades of brown and even green poop are considered to be normal. It is rare for the color of your poop to indicate a potentially serious intestinal condition.

Is green poop an infection?

Maybe, according to medicine.net. Many people experience green diarrhea and it will usually go away on its own.

If you're experiencing severe diarrhea symptoms when your poop is green, your stool may be an indication of something more serious and you should contact a physician.

Why is my poop green?

The color of one's poop is generally dictated by the food you consume combined with the amount of bile that exists in your poop, according to mayoclinic.org.

What is bile? It's a yellow-green fluid that digests fats.

Enzymes chemically alter bile pigments as they make their journey through the gastrointestinal tract. This is what changes the color of your poop from brown to green..

What does green poop mean?

According to mayoclinic.org, the bile doesn't have time to break down completely due to food moving through the large intestine too fast — such as diarrhea.

What causes green poop?

According to mayoclinic.org, there are few dietary items that bring about green poop:

Green food coloring (dyed beer, flavored drink mixes or ice pops).

Green leafy vegetables.

Iron supplements.

According to UnityHealth, other causes for green poop may include:

Bacterial or viral infections.

Gastrointestinal disorders − such as Crohn’s or celiac disease.

Why is my poop green, but I didn't eat anything green?

Foods using artificial or natural food coloring struggle with absorption while they pass through gastorintestinal system, according to healthline.com. This allows for blue and purple foods to leve behind a residue and that leaves poop green during the digestive process.

Such food tiems include:

Blue or purple ice pops.

Blue or purple icing.

Blueberries

Grape-flavored sodas

Red cabbage.

Does green poop mean a bad liver?

Bile is created in the liver, but green poop does not an indication that your liver is going bad, according to UnityHealth.

Why is my poop black?

According to mayoclinic.org, some dietary reasons for black poop include black licorice, iron supplements and bismuth subsalicylate — which is basically Kaopectate or Pepto-Bismol. However, you shouldn't take black poop lightly.

What does black poop mean?

Black poop may be a sign of bleeding in the upper gastrointestinal tract — such as the stomach — according to mayoclinic.org. Anyone who discovers black poop after a bowel movement should seek immediate medical attention.

[shadowqueen402]

Kalpana's Domain

Like all Second-levels and Reala, Kalpana has her own domain. She had created it on the day that she and NiGHTS left Nightmare.

Just like with Owl's Sanctuary from my previous post, Kalpana's domain can also be found in the forest. But it is rather in a different part of the forest and can only be accessed by a door that's hidden in plain sight.

Interestingly enough, Kalpana doesn't have a throne in her domain. Unlike the other domains, Kalpana made hers to feel exactly like an actual loving and safe home.

When a Visitor enters the domain, they are immediately in the first room; the living room. It has light green walls, two black and white couchs with blue and red cushions, a coffee table, and a grey rug that ties the room together. At the door is a light yellow indoor mat. A console table with a couple of small yet pretty vases can be seen. There will even be a small photo of Kalpana with Wizeman… for some reason. A large portrait of Crystal Castle will hang on the wall. There is even a fireplace Kalpana would light up when it gets really cold. (Where the fireplace is located is where the TV is at in the picture below.)

Behind the couches is the dining area and the kitchen. The dining area consists of a table with four chairs that each have magenta cushions. There are even two stools behind the table that are for the eating nook, which is located at the kitchen. In the kitchen, there is a sink, a stove, a cabinet where plates, bowls, and cups are stored, a refrigerator, and a pantry for storing canned goods, snacks, and cereal. Though not seen, there is a cutting board, a spice rack, and cupboards where pots and pans are kept. Between the dining area and the living room are a flight of stairs that lead up to a hallway.

In the hallway, there are five doors that lead to more rooms. Three of them are bedrooms, to be exact. The first door leads to NiGHTS's room. Though it's mostly pink, there are some purples in it to suit her style. There is even a bench by the window that will give her an amazing view of the forest regardless of each time of the day. While the bookshelf and desk are present, she doesn't have a laptop. Her corkboard has drawings that she once doodled when she was a child pinned up. By her bed is a framed portrait of Pure Valley. Her bedroom at Kalpana's domain is where NiGHTS loves sleeping at the most.

The second door leads to Reala's room. Canonically, it's currently empty due to him staying loyal to Wizeman. But, going by @redrockbluerock's AU where Reala defects againt Wizeman, Reala inhabits the room. His room in Kalpana's domain has red walls. Despite having some blacks in his room, there will also be some whites to represent his road for redemption. He does have a portrait of Mystic Forest in his room.

The third door leads to Kalpana's room. It has mostly whites and pinks upon entering inside. Her room even has a door that leads to the balcony. But Kalpana rarely goes out on the balcony as this would risk herself getting spotted by her husband. She even has a framed portrait of Lost Park hung by her bed. Kalpana makes a very clear rule to her two children that they cannot enter her room unless they absolutely need something.

The fourth door leads to the laundry room. This is where Kalpana will wash, dry, iron, and fold clothes. It has a sink that is used for washing clothes that cannot be in the washer. Though not seen, there is even a drying rack for clothes that must be hung to dry. A shelf full of detergent, scent boosters, fabric softener, and dryer sheeters is also in the room. There is even a ironing board where Kalpana can iron the clothes.

The fifth and final door is the bathroom. The tiles where the bathtub is are white. There is a large mirror and a large sink. A pale blue bathroom mat is seen on the floor. Though not seen, there is a toilet with a handheld bidet. The shelves, which are located in the back have shampoos, body washes, sponges, towels, toothbrushes, and toothpastes. (Imagine NiGHTS and Reala fighting over for the bathroom! 🤣)

(The first two pictures are from the Yandere Simulator website that I recolored. The other five are from Pinterest.)

@marinerainbow (Figured you should see ALL of Kalpana's domain.)

[renodots]

Transforming Your HDB with Urban Industrial Interior Design

Does the raw and authentic charm of urban industrial interior design HDB flats appeal to you? Then you have excellent taste! Rooted in the rugged aesthetics of late 1700s industrial settings, this style isn't just for sprawling New York lofts - it's also perfect for apartments in Singapore.

What is industrial interior design for HDB apartments all about?

An ample and relaxed space where every beam and pipe is shown off instead of hidden - this is the essence of industrial decor. It favors dark and noble designs that look effortlessly chic despite their unfinished vibe and more masculine palettes that feature rich materials and deep, warm hues. Industrial interior design for HDB is all about solid wood, brick, and metal - elements that make it a timeless choice and keep your home forever in style.

Top tips to nail an industrial interior design for your HDB flat

Think open and minimalist. The point of industrial design is to keep your apartment spacious and uncluttered. Consider subtly using black-paneled skylights to divide areas and adding large mirrors to deepen your space. Doing the sets, you emulate the expansive feel of old industrial buildings without having to embark on a significant renovation.

Always look for straight, wide, and clean-lined wood furniture. Such pieces capture the true spirit of industrial design. Add a few metallic accents, like a rustic wood high table with metal elements that remind you of an old workshop, complemented by backless stools.

Create a brick wall using brick tiles (or wallpaper if you're on a strict budget). This is the most efficient way to add an industrial character and warmth to your HDB flat.

Mix and match cohesive materials in terms of color and texture. Imagine natural wood with metals like iron, steel, and copper or stone with leather. These combinations create a cozy yet urban touch.

Stick to earthy tones like blacks, greys, taupes, and ochres. These colors work well with industrial materials and instantly add edginess to your apartment.

Show off structural elements such as exposed pipes and beams, whether original to your flat or added for style. Don't be afraid of rough and worn materials to heighten the industrial feel.

Keep textiles simple. Regarding industrial interior design for HDB flats, minimal patterns reign supreme. Instead of soft fabrics, focus and leather pieces in black, brown, or cognac to add that nonchalant touch of luxury.

Invest in "raw" flooring materials such as waxed concrete or concrete-look tiles. If you want something warmer, natural wood floors with a worn look will also work.

Lighting should be simple but bold, straightforward yet impactful. Metal lamps or retro bulbs hanging from black wires are great choices.

Accessorize smartly with just a handful of accessories to complete your industrial transformation. You don't have to buy a lot. Think large clocks, metal wall art, and vintage cityscape photos (which are cheap to buy online). Keep it tasteful and avoid clutter.

Are you ready to embrace the industrial style for your HDB? Visit Renodots for more inspiration and to check out design resources in Singapore!

[anantradingpvtltd]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] DK Furniture Is A Well-Known Brand in Furniture Category in Amazon We Are Working In Rajasthan. And We Deal In All Type Of Furniture Like Bed, Chair, Dining, Bedside, Coffee & Center Table, Night Stand, Rocking Chair, Iron Furniture, Dressing Table, Wooden Temple, Trunk, Bar Cabinet, Bar Stool, Bar Chair, Changing Table, Drawing Board, Writing Desk, Monks Bench, Folding Table, Wine Table, Workbench, Kitchen Cabinet, Vanity Set, Arm Chair, Wooden Rocking Chair, Wooden Designer Bed, Wooden Single Bed, Wooden Carved Sofa Set, Wooden Rack, Wicker Sofa, Bamboo Dining Table, Foldable, Longue, Balcony Furniture, Laptop Study Table, Garden Outdoor, Indoor, Kitchen, Hallway, Hotel Furniture, Cafe & Restaurant Wooden Stools, Console Tables, Sideboard & Bar Cabinet, Wooden Tv Units, Wall Shelves. | We Provide All Type Finish in Furniture as Per Your Requirement Like Rosewood finish, Honey finish, Liquor finish, Oak finish, Metallic finish, Glossy finish, Mahogany finish, Red Mahogany finish, Natural Wood finish, Teak finish, Mirror finish, Stained finish, Cherry Brown finish, Cherry Wood finish, Antique Pine finish, Tudor Oak finish, Black finish, Dark Oak finish, Rugger Brown finish, Teak finish, Old Pine finish, Wax finish, Brown Oak finish, Dark Oak finish, Maple finish, Natural Ash finish Etc. Overview 1. Anchor your living space in a contemporary charm and unmatched comfort with Winster wooden sofa. Perfectly balancing style with storage, this design will lend your home a contemporary upgrade. The storage facility at the ends of it makes this sofa more functional and stylish. 2. The fine crafting of Sheesham wood makes it more durable and promising to serve for years. ​3. It is available in 2 different finish options, such as Honey and Walnut. Cleaning Technique Wipe off the dirt from the furniture with a soft cotton cloth. Also avoid using the excess water for cleaning, take moistened cloth to wipe off the dirt. Avoid Chemicals Avoid chemical contact with the furniture as it may harm the natural finish and further the durability. Also, make sure to avoid application of polyurethane paints on the furniture. Cushion :- Walnut Finish with Cream Cushion Cushions Density - 32 , Back Rest Cushion - 3.5 Inches , Seating Cushion - 4.5 Inches , Cushions Cover with Zip Facility , Easy to Remove & Wash 4.This is 3 Seater Sofa , Wooden sofa set furniture , sofa set for living room , sofa 3 set , solid wood sofa This is Solid Sheesham Teak Wood Wooden Sofa Set 3 Seater Home Furniture Living Room | 3 Seater Sofa Set , Wooden sofa set furniture , sofa set for living room , sofa 3 set , solid wood sofa | Office Furniture | Wooden Sofa Set 3 | Wood Sofa 3 seater | l Shape sofa | Sofa set | Wood Sofa Set Home and Office Decoration Furniture 1. Accessories showcased in the image are just to give an idea about the setup. These are not a part of the product, unless specified. 2. In the case of solid wood based furniture, the wood grain might slightly vary from product to product. 3. In accordance with the different screen settings and resolutions, there might be a minute difference in fabric colour and wood finish between the website images and actual product. Assembly - The Product Requires Basic Self Assembly, All The Accessories Are Included In Package With Assembly Instruction. We Does Not Provide / Pay For The Installation. [ad_2]

[simpforrooster]

be careful with my baby pt 2.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!Reader

Read part one here.

t/w: cursing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death, some angst

....did he really just say that?

You didn't sleep a wink. How could you?

First, he drops that bomb on you.

Second, he had you pulled against him, his large hand splayed across your stomach.

Once he fell into a deeper sleep and that iron-clade grip loosened, you stealthily rolled off the couch and into his bedroom.

No way you could stay next to him on that couch with all those confusing thoughts in your head. Plus, his bed was a million times more comfortable than the couch.

When you finally decided it was an appropriate time to head into the kitchen, it was 7 am.

Rooster is still asleep on the couch, letting out little snores every now and then. His hand rests across his forehead, and you know he will complain that his arm is sore from that uncomfortable sleeping position.

You expertly move around his kitchen, putting on coffee and finding something to whip up for breakfast. Rooster's refrigerator and pantry are pretty bare bones since he just got back from a mission, but you manage to make something work.

Thank God your grandmother taught you how to make pancakes from scratch.

Rooster stirs on the couch, and you hold your breath.

"Fuck..." he moans. This has to be the most sexual-in-a-non-sexual-setting-thing he's ever done. "How much did I drink?"

Okay, so he remembers he asked you to stay over.

"Too much," you tell him from the stove.

Rooster rolls off the couch, his clothes from the previous night disheveled. He runs a hand through his sandy hair, grimacing as the lights in the kitchen hit him.

"Coffee?" he chokes out. You motion to the full mug you made for him on his bar. He slides into the stool opposite of you. Bringing the mug to his lips, he takes a large sip as if this coffee is a magical elixir that will cure his massive hangover.

He groans, confirming that that was exactly what he was hoping for, and the elixir failed him.

You can't help but let out a small giggle.

This man is adorable.

And sexy.

God, so sexy. How can someone be sexy and adorable?

Rooster smirks up at you. "You laughin' at my pain?"

"Always."

The two of you fall into a rather comfortable silence, considering the last thing he said to you before falling asleep, while you finish up the pancakes.

You set a plate in front of him, and take your own to the barstool next to him. Rooster digs in like he hasn't eaten in months.

"This is it," he gestures to the pancakes, "not the coffee. This is the magical hangover elixir. You have to stay over every time I drink to much from now own."

The compliment turns your cheeks pink. In the years you've known Rooster, this is the first time you've ever cooked for him. Your platonic nights spent together usually involved take out of some kind, or Hard Deck bar food.

Which is much better than you'd think.

Rooster takes both your empty plates to the sink, a new pep in his step thanks to your magical pancakes.

His words, not yours.

You watch as Rooster cleans up the kitchen. He told you when he grew up, the person who cooks gets out of clean up duty. Seeing Rooster act so domestic does things to you you didn't know possible.

Neither of you has brought up what he said last night. You're terrified he doesn't remember it. He remembers he asked you to stay, but maybe he blacked out before whispering those words to you.

Maybe he thought he was asleep and dreamt saying them?

You try not to dwell on it as you sip your coffee. The coffee is the best part about being at Rooster's. He always stocks up on fancy blends, sometimes bringing some back from overseas.

"Thank you for taking care of me last night," he mumbles, pulling you from your thoughts. He's drying the skillet you used, not making eye contact with you. "I hate when I step over that line I've drawn for myself."

You know Rooster likes to keep a clear head about him and typically stops after a few beers, but it's not like the rest of you haven't been there. Rooster has taken care of you countless nights. You've seen Phoenix guide Bob out to her car. Jake has pulled you down from a few tables. Hell, Mav's pulled a glass out of Jake's hand before when he's had enough.

Everyone looks out for each other.

"Roos, stop beating yourself up. You were celebrating a successful mission."

Rooster still hasn't met your eyes. "It almost wasn't." The words are so soft, you almost miss them.

Your blood runs cold. Being friends with fighter pilots has it's risks. You are well aware that when any of them go up, they may not make it back home.

"If Phoenix hadn't been there..." he trails off. His hand circles the skillet that is well dry by now.

You don't pry. Rooster has a very specific way of letting these moments out.

"All I could think of in that moment was you. Fuck, and how I've been such a coward."

Your heartbeat picks up. If you were wearing your Apple Watch, you're certain you'd get a "high heart rate" alert. You swallow your nervousness, waiting for his next words.

He finally sets the skillet down. Bracing his hands on the counter's ledge, he looks up at you.

"I meant what I said last night."

The confession knocks the wind out of you. The two of you stare at one another and your breathing starts coming in ragged intervals.

"I hate that I had to be drunk to say it. I've been so afraid to ruin this friendship." His eyes peer into yours. "I don't have family besides Mav, and I thought if I came clean, I'd loose you as a friend. I couldn't bare that."

Words still hang at the bottom of your throat, so he continues.

"When I was nose to nose with that jet, all I could think about was that I'd never told you how I felt. Dying without you knowing my feelings, shit, I couldn't believe it."

A tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek.

"So, I meant it, y/n. It wasn't just some drunk words."

The emotions you're feeling hit you like a tidal wave. Thrilled that Rooster feels the same way. Devastated that you almost lost him. Angry that he doesn't think more highly of himself.

"Please say something," he mumbles to the counter.

It takes every ounce of courage you have. "I love you too, Bradley."

His eyes snap up to yours, and within an instant he's rounded the bar. He swivels the barstool toward him. Looking up at him, with his arm above your shoulder, you feel so safe and small. His other hand brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. He hits you with the sweetest grin you've ever seen on your face.

"Can I kiss you?" he mumbles.

"You better, Lieutenant."

Rooster's hand trails from your ear to cup your face. Leaning in, his mouth covers yours in the safest kiss you've ever had. Your arms lock around his neck, pulling him as close to you as you can.

"Better than I've imagined," he whispers when he pulls back.

You answer him with another kiss.

a/n: I hope y'all liked it :) I'm so here for domestic!Rooster

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[therandomfandomme]

Archaeologist Habits Are Hard to Break

I've dug a water management well in my mom's garden the past two days (we are Dutch so you know we love some good water management) and I have discovered some defects that come with being an archaeologist and being asked to dig something that's not a coup.

[image ID: Image 1: picture of the well which is 1 meter in diameter and 1.5 meter deep. There is a purple step stool in it and there gray encased electrical wiring running across it on the upper side.

Image 2: a picture of awhite sieve filled with all types of pottery, rocks and other bits and bops. End ID]

AKA I have collected all the things I found while digging the well and since I wouldn't be an archaeologist if I didn't share what I found, I will provide pictures of all my finds sorted in categories below :D

All these finds come from the upper layer, they look pretty recent and are probably just trash that ended up in the upper layer after this house was build somewhere in the 1920s.

[Image ID: Image 3: a collection of glazed pottery, consisting of mostly orange glazed pottery but there is also a purpule and a dark gray piece Notable is the big rim fragment. There are 16 total.

Image 4: a collection of white pottery, most is glazed white. There are a few bottom pieces of what could be plates. There are 17 total.

Image 5: A collection of decorated glazed pottery. There are 4 total. One is white with a blue decoration in the bottom hard to make out what since it's so small. Another one is also white with blue decorations. This piece is entirely decorated with a blue flower on a white background and then a band of blue floral decorations. The next one is decorated with an orangy brown. These create white shapes in bands such as circles and triangles. The last one is the bottom of what could be a plate with a little bit of text left in the corner that reads: 'AMIQ..'

Image 6: A collection of random things. There is an rusty nail, two pieces of glass, a bit of pottery that I forgot to put in another category, a marble, a coin and the cap of a preserving bottle.

Image 7: a close up of both sides of the coin. On the front there is an image of a royal woman, the text around her says: 'Juliana Koningin der Nederlanden' which translates to Juliana Queen of the Netherlands. On the other side states that it is 10 cents with a crown above it. Surrounding it, it is indicated that it's from 1950.

Image 8: a close up of the cap. On the side it says in red: 'Flesschen Fabriek Delft' wich is annold spelling of bottle and then factory Delft (a place). The top is more faded but in black is says: 'J.H. van WEES DEPOT ZHB BAARN'

Image 9: a collage of collections of more pottery. These are sorted in four categories: identifiable pieces, smooth pieces, rough big pieces and rough small pieces. There are 7 pieves in the first category, 7 in the second too, 8 in the third and 28 in the forth.

Image 10: a collection of fun rocks I also found and wanted to keep, because I also have magpie tendencies. end ID]

I myself focus more on the Mesolithic to the Iron Age, so I have little clue if this is anything but I thought I'd yeet it in the void (i think @chaotic-archaeologist does more historic work but America is different). Anways I'd love to hear observations! Or if anyone else struggles with letting go of their archaeologist habits XP