#even if you continued to miniaturize everything else

[askshivanulegacy]

This is a great breakdown of phone cameras and worth a read if you do most of your photography with a phone.

Phone cameras are comparable to or better than many point-and-shoot digital cameras (especially older generation cameras, and this has been the case for several years now). But there is no such thing as a "pro" phone camera, just like there's no such thing as a "pro" point-and-shoot.

You can get really great photos and they can absolutely serve your needs. It's a fantastic solution if you're not in a position to carry extra gear with you.

But they are not "pro".

They can also be a perfectly acceptable tool for photography as an art form. You use the tools and explore and maximise their capabilities as you feel driven to. You certainly limit yourself in major ways with a camera phone, but that's part of the art. ALL photography is bound by the limits of your tool, and the entire point is to work within those and push your craft to see what you can do. So you can use the camera phone AS a pro (i.e. someone who understands the tool and principles of photography), but you have to understand the tool for that.

If you want a pro camera though, get a real camera.

Also, you need to identify the type of photography you like or want to do in order to choose the right camera.

I do a LOT of handheld, low-light photography w/o flash (museums, early or late hiking, etc.) so the sacrifice of low light quality in these cameras is the wrong decision, to me. But I also have a real camera which specifically caters to what I do. You just need to choose the tool or work within the bounds of what you have.

Smartphone cameras are NOT getting worse. (See below for phone photography tips)

I've now seen 3 pro photographers reviewing the iPhone 16 and complaining the cameras are "worse" and blaming Apple for not including revolutionary new camera technology.

And I suppose this is partly Apple's fault. Their marketing and hype machine always goes overboard. But also, that's just how marketing works. Samsung has a "200 megapixel" sensor and Sony has a "Zeiss" lens. And I think it is unrealistic to expect smartphone companies to say "This product has entered the iterative phase and each new model will only be marginally improved over the last one."

Smartphones (from any brand) have become an appliance. You don't buy a new model of microwave every year. And you don't expect every new model of microwave to have new revolutionary technology. And that is pretty much the expectation you should have with most computer hardware from here on out.

And in some ways, that is a good thing. That means the design of the phone has pretty much been perfected and it will last you a long time if you take care of it. You will not be left behind and your phone will be able to handle any new software for most of its lifespan.

So, is Apple getting lazy or is there a reason their hardware is stagnating?

It seems that neither money nor marketing can change the laws of physics.

They cannot make transistors much smaller. Phones and computers are about as fast as current hardware designs can make them (unless there is a shocking scientific breakthrough). From here on out, heavy compute tasks that are beyond your phone or computer will be done in the cloud on giant computer clusters. Thankfully computers and phones seem to be plenty fast for the majority of tasks we ask of them.

I remember Katrina telling me her new computer didn't seem any faster. And I explained the computing tasks she does regularly were not really affected by the increased power and speed of her new computer. If something took 0.1 seconds before and now it takes 0.05 seconds, that is twice as fast. An increase in speed that looks fantastic in advertisements. But it is hard for our brains to perceive. She just didn't do anything on her computer that took it long enough for her to notice. But having a faster and more powerful computer/phone will increase its lifespan and resale value, so it is still prudent to get the best things you can afford at time of purchase.

And I'm afraid smartphone cameras are hitting their own hardware limitations. They can't make the sensors much larger to get better depth of field and low light performance. And cramming in more megapixels doesn't actually add much more detail, if any.

It's physics.

Again.

You cannot get any more performance out of a small plastic lens. Why do you think pro photographers haul around 10 pound lenses still?

There is a formula for detail that never seems to be explained in any camera marketing.

Here is the simplified version...

Detail = Sensor x Lens

Let's say 1 is perfection. You have a sensor that performs at 0.5 and a lens that performs at 0.2.

The total detail will be 0.1.

But in the new model you increase the performance of the sensor to 0.8. WOW! That's so close to 1!

The total detail will be... 0.16.

Now let's imagine we've discovered a magic, physics-defying tiny plastic lens that performs at 0.8 as well.

The total detail jumps to 0.64!

But we all get sucked into a wormhole because we violated the laws of the universe.

Even if you were to design a near perfect (perfect is impossible) sensor that scores 0.99.

Without that magic plastic lens... 0.198

This is why I put Samsung's "200 megapixel" sensors in quotes. Because when paired with the same tiny plastic lens, there isn't much improvement. And that's why a 12 megapixel DSLR from 10 years ago with a giant honking lens can still capture more detail.

Most of the quality from smartphone cameras comes from the computational software processing. Phones actually take many photos at once and combine them to get you a decent image.

While that is still improving a little bit each generation, those improvements are stagnating as well. Until image processing can do a better job of inventing more detail realistically, smartphones are going to have to obey the laws of physics.

So... why are photographers saying the iPhone cameras are worse?

First, the ultra wide angle lens looks softer in low light.

And if you zoom between 1x and 5x, the images look less detailed.

But neither of those things make the cameras *worse*. In fact, the cameras are better for the most part. It's just that Apple decided to compromise on one aspect to improve another. Probably due to market research telling them most people prioritize certain things over others when taking photos.

They increased the resolution of the ultra wide angle sensor to match the detail of the main sensor, but that seems to have lowered the low light performance of the ultra wide. So in good light, you will see an improvement in sharpness. But they could not increase the sensor size to compensate and smaller pixels can have trouble with dim conditions. They probably discovered that people mostly use that lens in good light and they would appreciate the bump in detail more.

But pro photographers often photograph in more challenging lighting conditions because you can capture a more artistic shot. I don't think I could have gotten this shot on a smartphone.

But photo normies are just taking pics of their kids doing weird kid shit.

They aren't really trying to push the limits of their ultra wide angle lenses.

And they increased the zoom of the telephoto lens to 5x from 3x because most people never used the 3x. So images at 5x look great now, but unfortunately if you use anything between 1x and 5x, your image will be *digitally* zoomed. Which is never as good as optical zoom. They basically crop the photo, zoom in, and add sharpening.

So they prioritized people having longer reach and more zoom at the expense of that middle zoom range. Every camera system makes tradeoffs and compromises.

And I hate that I always feel like I am defending Apple, because they do have misleading and dishonest marketing regarding a lot of aspects of their tech. But hating on Apple gets more clicks so content creators also make misleading and dishonest claims.

And so we are just surrounded in a circle of hyperbole from all sides.

Now, if you know these limitations, you can change your approach to photographing stuff to keep them from being an issue. You can reap the benefits without dealing with the new compromises.

Here are some tips to help owners of the new iPhone, but also everyone else too.

Smartphone Photography Tips

Whenever possible, try to use the main 1x camera at only 1x zoom. This has the largest sensor with the most detail and works best in the lowest light. Only use the ultra wide or telephoto if you cannot get the photo otherwise. If you aren't sure you have enough light for ultra wide, take the photo, and then as a safety, take two photos with the main camera side by side and stitch them later with a pano app.

"Zoom with your feet" and don't use "in-between" zooms. Let's say your lenses do 0.5x, 1x, and 5x zoom. Even though you have the option to use other zooms, like 2x or 3x, that is going to compromise your picture quality. It is essentially going to crop your photo and enlarge it, which causes a loss of detail. If fact, if you use 4.5x instead of 5x, your picture will probably look like trash. You are always going to get better results if you can move closer or step back so that you are using the native focal length of your chosen lens. For example, let's say you are taking a photo and you judge the best framing to be at 4x. But you still have 10 feet of space behind you. If you back up and then zoom in to 5x, the phone will switch to that lens and you will get a much clearer picture.

Rule of thumb...

1 to 3x... try to move closer.

4 to 5x... try to move back.

If you hit a wall and end up at 4.5x, you might see if you have a panorama mode and try that instead. Switch to your 5x and do the pano. Or you can take two photos and then stitch them together with software later on. (Stitching panos with an app later will give better quality than pano mode, especially in low light.)

Low light needs stability. Get some sort of stabilizing device for low light photos. Either a phone case that lets you stand up the phone on its own or a mini tripod.

This thing folds to the size of a credit card.

Your phone will detect when it is stable and not being handheld. It will then automatically extend its shutter speed allowing it to drink in more light and give you a better picture.

Tripods are photography magic and will improve your low light photos quite a bit. Motion blur of moving subjects can still be an issue, but photos of a cityscape or landscape will look great.

For selfies, shoot a little bit wide and then crop in. This goes a little contrary to my earlier advice saying cropping lowers detail, but this is specifically for shooting a face. The 0.5x and 1x lenses on smartphone cameras are fairly wide angle. This can cause unflattering proportions with human faces. Wide angle lenses exaggerate distance. Near things look very near and far things look very far. To a wide angle lens, the tip of your nose looks like it is super close but your ears seem like they are a mile away. And that's why you may look a bit "alien" in your selfies.

People's natural instinct is to "fill the frame" with a face. The outer edges of a wide angle lens are more distorted than the very center. So try to keep faces away from the edges of the frame.

And one other trick you can do for selfies and pictures of faces is step back a few feet. Sometimes this is hard, especially with selfies, as your arm is only so long... but if you can take your face photos from just a little bit farther back, you will almost entirely eliminate unflattering distortion. In some cases, just stretching out your arm as far as it will go is enough.

Then you just crop the image with the framing you originally wanted, and your facial proportions will look great.

An example...

Here the distortion is bad because I am not in the center and the lens is too close to my face. The lens thinks my nose is really close and my ears are in Canada.

But when the lens is farther back the edge distortion is less prevalent and my nose and ears (relative to the lens) seem roughly the same distance away. So my proportions look great, but I don't quite have the framing I want.

But with a little cropping...

For social media there is still plenty of resolution to crop in. Cropping isn't bad, it's just always better to use it as a last resort or in a special circumstance like this. I get roughly the same framing as in my wide angle shot, but I don't look like I'm behind a door's peephole trying to sell you the Good News.

I wish they made a "mini" selfie stick that only extended a foot or so. With the main camera that is usually all people need to undo any wide angle issues. I have one of those mini tripods and that works well, but there is no activation button so I have to do a timer. Mirrors work great to help you get some selfie distance.

In any case, all cameras have limitations and compromises. Clickbait titles saying something is WORSE THAN THE OLD ONE are frustrating and wrong.

And people upgrading phones every year are silly. All current name brand smartphones have promised at least 5 years of software updates. I think Google and Samsung are offering 7 years on some models. And Apple has always just let you use your phone until it literally will not work with new software. Which has worked out to 8 years in some cases (with a battery swap).

Phones are now appliances. For now, hardware will improve 10 to 15% from generation to generation until physics breaks. So if you want a 50% improvement, wait 5 years and you'll think your new phone is awesome. If you upgrade every year, it is going to be difficult to see the change.

I hope to be starting a little course on smartphone photography in the near future. All modern phones are capable of taking amazing pictures. And as long as you understand their limitations you can mitigate or avoid them. And that is what I plan to teach.

[ellecdc]

the pilot - Pretty Woman

slow burn poly!wolfstar Pretty Woman (1990) au: established wolfstar, escort!reader, side jegulily, eventual dorlene, political heist-type situation, depictions and descriptions of sex-work

I // II

cw: discussion of experienced transphobia, discussion of someone else's homophobia, the Black Family, writers poor understanding of UK politics, mature themes and discussion of full service sex work [3k words]

link to series masterlist

“Absolutely bloody fucking not, are you out of your mind?” 

“Cas, please.” You begged as you followed your roommate out of her room and into the kitchen.

“You have plenty of bags, why do you need to borrow mine?” She grumbled as she flicked on the kettle. 

“The room is booked at the Ritz, Cas; I cannot walk in with my fraying duffle.” 

Her movements paused as she turned to look at you incredulously. “The Ritz? Fucking hells, babe, where’d you find this guy?”

You shrugged your shoulders helplessly. “He found me.”

“Blimey…if he has enough money to throw around for a casual stay at a hotel like that and-”

“Me.” You finished for her. “I know…I- I’d like it to go well, in case…”

“In case he decides to book again.” 

You nodded solemnly at Dorcas who continued staring at you, only looking away when her water came to a boil. 

“Fine. Fine…okay, you can borrow my Prada bag.”

You squealed as you hugged your friend from behind as she prepared her tea, ignoring her grumbling on account of the pleased smile she had on her face.

“Thank you, Cas. Really…this….this could be good for us, yeah?”

Her face softened as she turned to look at you as you backed towards her bedroom to retrieve her bag; guilt, grief and hope intermingling in her eyes as she nodded at you. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

Your cheap heels clicked across along the marble floor which reflected the lights like diamonds under the many crystal chandeliers hanging on the high ceilings. You were wearing your most expensive jacket, but you still felt horribly out of place; you weren’t exactly wearing a whole lot underneath it (everything was going to be coming off shortly anyway…), and you were delusional enough to feel like everyone in the lobby was somehow onto you.

This late into the evening, most guests were dressed to the nines as they made their way to casinos and orchestras; cocktail dresses and more than a few tuxedos painting your vision in every direction you looked. You couldn’t get to the elevator quickly enough, though you were forced to spend the ride up staring at your reflection ad infinitum on account of the parallel mirrors in every direction.

Fifth floor, room 522. 

The room itself had its own miniature chandelier hanging above the room number illuminating it in the hall. You looked back at the text on your phone to confirm you were at the right place.

Great! Looking forward to seeing you: room 522 on the 5th floor

You’d had high paying clients before – men who could afford to spend their money on sex – but not like this, never like this.

You suddenly felt incredibly nervous and hoped you could make a good impression; if he was pleasant, you’d be more than happy to have him as a repeat client.

You’ve been through worse.

You took one last look through your borrowed bag to make sure you had your essentials, as well as your ID and taser in case of emergencies, before taking a deep breath and knocking gently; cautious of the hall of other rooms who may be winding down for the evening and not wanting to draw attention to what was very clearly an escort.

Please let this go well.

“Okay, so, explain to me again why you couldn’t just hire an actress or some theatre student?” James asked as he rubbed painfully at his temples.

Sirius groaned and threw his head back. “Because James; an actress will have a portfolio – a history - that my family can dig into. They’ll also have dreams of pursuing other acting jobs after this one. I need someone nondescript, unheard of, and not going anywhere so that my mother and her cronies can’t poke holes into our story.”

“Same reason he can’t use a friend.” Regulus added from his place on a tufted chair in the luxurious hotel room currently being paid for by his and Sirius’ family.

“Right. Mother and everyone will know if I’m using a friend, or an acquaintance and it will point back to this larger scheme.” Sirius agreed readily.

“But wouldn’t it make more sense if you had met your new fiancé through a friend?” Remus questioned.

“Sure. If my friends weren’t the two of you, Lily, and Marlene.” Sirius added simply.

“I just don’t understand how we jumped straight to prostitution.” James muttered.

“Look,” Sirius levelled, “I’ve thought about this long and hard. I’ve also discussed this with Andromeda and our Uncle Alphard, and they both agree this is the best way to go. Our family won’t have any reason to have met our prostitute unless they themselves have hired a prostitute, and this girl is supposed to be from the opposite end of town, so I doubt there’d have been any overlap anyways. She also won’t have much of a background for them to dig into – and she’d be hard to get to if they tried.”

“Why would she be hard to get to?”

Remus grimaced and answered James for him. “Prostitutes often have pimps, James. Men that...organise the contact for the girls. Sirius would have had to go through one to find this girl.”

“I thought that was a myth?” Regulus interjected, but Remus shook his head.

“It’s estimated that approximately 65-85% of prostitution is pimp-dominated.”

“So, some guy sold her to you?” James asked incredulously.

“Sort of...I guess.” Sirius admitted.

James groaned and looked at the ceiling “I hate this.”

“This is the beginning of the end, James. We’re taking the Black’s down once and for all; they won’t be able to hurt any of us ever again.” Sirius lamented, his eyes moving from James towards his younger brother at the end of the sentence.

Regulus nodded at his brother before there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Well boys, show time.” James said as he stood from his seat and moved to answer the door.

Sirius wrung his hands nervously as he heard James greet you at the door, sharing nervous looks with Remus and Regulus who both sat up straighter.

“-get you anything? There’s a full bar here, you can help yourself to whatever you want.” James was saying, though Sirius could almost hear your grin and polite shake of your head.

“I’m alright thanks, I’m not-”

But the second you stepped into the suite's living room you fell silent and looked at the three boys in horror; Sirius realised what he’d done wrong too little too late.

Both Remus and Regulus stood to greet you, and you pulled your bag into your chest and stepped back so quickly that the picture frame on the wall you slammed into shook. 

“It’s okay, we-”

“What is this?” You whispered overtop of Sirius, eyes darting nervously between the four men now all standing with their hands raised in placation, though Sirius felt as though it likely had the opposite effect. 

“Fuck this looks bad, doesn’t it?” James muttered nervously.

“Shut up, James.” 

“What is this?” You repeated a little louder.

“Y/N, right? My name is Sirius, love. I’m the one you spoke with on the phone.” Sirius offered as calmly as he could muster. “I’m sorry we surprised you, but I promise you’re okay, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“We just want to talk.” Remus added, and you let out a hysterical laugh.

“You hired an escort to chat?” You deadpanned, and Sirius’ noticed your eyes turning glassy in your panic.

“Okay, okay. Hang on, just…” Sirius started, moving in slow motion as he stepped towards the side table his wallet was sitting on whilst holding your eye contact the entire time. “Look, this is the price we agreed upon, right?” He asked, only breaking your eye contact to count the bills out in his hands as he inched closer to you. “You can take this right now and leave if you want, but-” he continued, fanning out the rest of the cash he’d withdrawn, “It’s tripled if you stay and just hear us out.”

You looked at him in pure discombobulation as he placed the agreed upon sum in your hand and closed your grip around it for you before backing away slowly. 

“Sit, please; we can order room service, you can help yourself to anything from the bar. Just…hear us out.” Remus offered as he gestured towards one of the wingback chairs. 

You swallowed thickly and let your gaze drift over the four men again; Remus who was looking at you pleadingly, Regulus who looked very pained on your behalf, James who looked very embarrassed by this whole misunderstanding, and Sirius who was looking at you like you were his only hope. 

“This…it’s not-?”

“No. No, there’s…no. No sex, nothing funny, just…a sales pitch.” He offered awkwardly. 

You scanned the room again, and though your knuckles were no longer white, you were still hugging your bag tight against your body.

“Can I take your jacket?” James offered, taking a step towards him. You simply looked at him before your gaze fell to the rather informal clothes everyone else was wearing.

“Do you have something more comfortable to wear in your bag?” Remus offered, obviously reading your worry for what it was as you nodded at him. 

“The washroom is right there, if you wanted to change? Or…if you wanted to call a cab.” Sirius offered. You nodded at him before disappearing through the door and locking it behind you. 

“Fucking smooth, Sirius.” Regulus muttered as he sat back down with a dramatic sigh. 

“Well I don’t fucking know, Reg! I’ve not exactly done this before, either.”

“That could have been bad.”

“Well we don’t know if she’s going to agree or not so it still could be bad.” Remus countered.

“I don’t think I can stomach having to hire another one.” Sirius muttered as they heard the door to the bathroom click. 

You exited, still looking nervous but you were no longer wearing your jacket which Sirius took as a good sign.

You were wearing a pair of well fitting jeans and a black turtleneck with a pair of black heeled boots - classic and nondescript. You looked put together enough, but like you wouldn’t draw attention to yourself. Though, Sirius figured a girl as pretty as you was likely to garner a few stares regardless of what you were wearing. 

That was probably good for business, which reminded Sirius why you were here. 

“Are you hungry? Do you want to order something to eat? Anything to drink?”

“No, thank you.” You replied as you accepted the chair Remus was gesturing for you to sit in. You allowed James to take your jacket, but kept your bag in your lap. 

“Water?” Regulus asked, and you finally managed to make eye contact with one of them.

“I have a bottle of water, thank you.” 

That seemed…fair, Sirius supposed. He guessed you were used to spending time in the company of rather predatory men.

“Okay, so, I’m really sorry about the confusion, but the reason I hired you is that I was hoping for your help.” Sirius said as he hooked up his laptop to the TV and started his slideshow. 

“You did not actually make a presentation.” James snorted, causing Sirius to look at him nonplussed.

“Of course I didn’t.” He responded simply, blushing only when he turned to notice you were looking at him with one raised eyebrow. “Regulus made it.”

“Someone had to.”

“This really is a sales pitch?” You asked almost disbelievingly; the ghost of a smirk on your lips. 

“Okay, well, if everyone would shut up, I’d get on with it.” Sirius chided with a smile, glad that you were relaxing enough to at least chuckle lightly at his expense. 

And Sirius told you.

He told you that his name was Sirius Black, that he came from the rather ignoble Black dynasty that had their claws (and more importantly, their heavily lined pockets) deeply entrenched in the rightwing government; currently backing the particularly problematic Tom Riddle who was running for Prime Minister. He explained that he’d run away from home at only 16 to live with James and his family due to the abuse and hostility his parents held, and how he could not support what they stood for. However, when his younger brother came out as trans to his parents - his parents who were now relying on their only remaining child to continue their legacy and help paint a picture of themselves as the proper, wholesome political family they pretended to be - they were desperate to play damage control. 

They promised to leave Regulus alone - they’d have nothing to do with him, but they wouldn’t publicly shame him - if Sirius played nice. Nice, meaning living a respectable, traditional lifestyle. This meant that Sirius and Remus had been dating behind closed doors for almost eight years now whilst Remus worked as Sirius’ personal assistant, and Sirius pretended he wasn’t in contact with his younger sibling should the press ask. 

His parents folded at Sirius’ friendship with James and Marlene, simply because no one would be able to explain away Sirius and James’ nearly lifelong friendship (he’d lived with his family for Christ’s sake), and even the Black’s understood the power in having ties with other wealthy and powerful families like the Potter’s and MacKinnon’s, even if their politics didn’t align with their own. 

“How does this all involve me?” You asked then, surprising Sirius out of his well rehearsed schpiel to find your eyes trained on him. 

“Right, so…my parents are tired of my bachelor lifestyle.”

“It doesn’t paint a very traditional picture to have the heir to a powerful family pushing 30 and still living in a bachelor pad with his unmarried mate and employee.” Remus offered dryly. 

“They want you to find a girlfriend.” You deduced.

“They want me to find a wife.” Sirius corrected. 

“And that’s…me?” You asked around a chuckle, your smile falling when you realised no one was laughing with you. “Oh my god…”

“I’ve told them I’ve been seeing someone for quite some time now, but didn’t want to bring them into this world until I was sure about them - until I was sure they weren’t ‘just after the family money’.” Sirius explained solemnly. “They want me to make it official, and they want me to start bringing you around.” 

“Around…”

“Events; galas, fundraisers, press opportunities. The likes.” Regulus explained flippantly. 

“Right…” You offered in monotone. “And you want to show up to galas, fundraisers, and press opportunities with a hooker?” 

James turned to give Sirius a look that seemed to read ‘see?’, but Remus responded first.

“Well…we were sort of hoping he could show up with you.” Remus corrected gently. You seemed surprised and more than a tad confused at Remus’ apparent defence of you. 

“They’re terrible people, Y/N.” Sirius blurted. “They are terrible and they stand for terrible things. They put all of their money into anti LGBTQIA+ propaganda and organisations, they actively work towards harming a large portion of UK citizens, they want to reverse any progress the country has made in reproductive healthcare and women’s rights, they’re trying to ban fucking children’s books, I-”

“Then why play along? Why play nice, as you said? Marrying an escort seems like a very dramatic way to keep your brother out of the limelight.” You argued.

“Clever girl.” Regulus murmured as he leaned further back into his chair. 

“Family inheritance.” Sirius offered plainly. “I have access to use family money, but do not have access to direct family money. Not until I fulfil the requirements of my inheritance.”

“The requirements being an approved heterosexual wedding.” James filled in. 

“Regulus is no longer entitled to his sum of the inheritance after my parents disowned him.” Sirius continued. “But that means that, should I be successful, I would inherit both of our portions.”

“Which would make Sirius the primary shareholder in the Black estates.” Regulus continued. 

“Meaning you’d have final say over allocation of funds…” You finished for him. 

“You are clever.” Remus agreed with Regulus’ earlier sentiments. You turned bashful and looked down at your lap to avoid having to look at any of them, Sirius found himself smiling at the top of your head. 

“And I just…play along?” You asked then.

“You’ll be paid - handsomely - any time you’re with any of us. And once I have access to the estate, you’ll be given a portion of it.”

“It’s no small sum, either.” Regulus assured you. 

“I will make sure it is well worth your time, Y/N.” Sirius promised. 

He let that sit in the air as he moved towards the bar and poured himself a drink before picking up his wallet. “And here.” He added as he handed you the other portion of the cash he’d taken out for you.

“What?”

“I promised you triple if you heard us out; you’ve heard us out.” He responded simply as he took a seat beside Remus. 

You fanned out the bills in front of you like you couldn’t believe your eyes; you weren’t counting them, necessarily, but proving to yourself it was real. 

“They’re terrible?” You asked then, but when Sirius looked up, he could see you were asking Regulus. 

“Awful.” Regulus murmured, eyes staring unseeingly at the coffee table in front of him as James placed a comforting hand on his knee. “Honestly, I’m…scared; not necessarily for myself, I mean, I know I’m safe and have people in my corner, but…there are so many people out there like me who don’t and…”

You nodded in understanding as Regulus trailed off. 

“Okay.” You whispered as you folded up the money as best you could and put it in your bag before standing.

“Okay?” Sirius asked as he stood, too; quickly followed by Remus, James, and Regulus.

“Okay.” You repeated, nodding once to yourself before meeting Sirius’ gaze. “I’ll do it, I’ll…I’ll help.” 

Sirius felt a smile take over his face as he looked at you - his dame in shining armour for all intents and purposes - as you accepted your jacket from James. 

“Tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it; I’ll help.”

[starkwlkr]

the sound of my voice will haunt you | mark webber

part 1 part 2

Grace sat in a chair watching you and Mark talk. She was so bored that she started to imagine herself as you. She found a head set and slipped them over her ears. While she played pretend, you were facing reality talking with Mark.

“Does she know about me?” Mark asked.

“She only knows your name. I never talked to her about you. Why would I? You threw it all away so easily, Mark. You broke my heart.” You snapped at him. You had to calm yourself since your daughter was just a few feet away.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and the amount of times I say I’m sorry isn’t going to fix it.”

“If this is you telling me you want to be in Grace’s life, you have no right.”

Mark knew that. It absolutely broke him that he had a daughter and he couldn’t be with her, but he had fucked it all up. He looked over at the young girl and saw how she played with the head set. She was a miniature version of you.

“I know and I won’t ask for forgiveness of any kind, not from you or Grace. You’ve done an amazing job raising her.” He continued. “Maybe one day you could tell her about me? If not, i understand.”

“As if you told anyone about me in your book. Mark, I did everything for you. I got in trouble for driving you to races, my parents almost took away my keys! I worked day and night in a shitty restaurant, I almost missed my own graduation because of you! A little note would’ve been nice, but it’s as if I never existed in your world. It hurt me.” You held back tears. Suddenly you’re a teenager again hearing all the loud yelling coming from your parents for driving Mark to his races.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to mention you at all. . . ” He said quietly.

“You’re my past now, I would love to stay away from the past. So when you do attend any of the upcoming races and Grace is here, don’t talk to her. It would be better if she didn’t know about you. Please.” You stated.

My own daughter won’t know about me

Mark understood. It would be better after all.

“Okay.” Was all he managed to say. He nodded and lanced one last time at Grace. “Goodbye.”

Before he could leave, Grace looked at him. She wondered why he looked sad. “Why are you sad? Is your favorite team not winning?” She asked Mark.

“Grace. . . It’s time to go.” You hoped Mark wouldn’t start a conversation, but he did. Of course he was making it harder for you.

“Actually, I used to drive for the team that’s winning and I was okay for a number two driver.” Mark crouched down to talk to Grace.

“Did you win lots of races?” She asked.

Mark let out a chuckle. “I won nine races.”

Grace gasped. “My dad won nine races too!”

At that moment, you wished you were anywhere else. Why couldn’t Mark just leave? Why did Grace have to be nice to everyone and be so curious? And why did you tell Grace that her dad was a driver?

“Your dad? He drives?” Mark questioned.

Grace nodded. “Well I think he doesn’t anymore. Mom said my dad was a driver and that he won nine races, but that’s all I know. I had to make a school project about my family and I asked mom about my dad. Do you know my dad?”

Before Mark could reply, you stepped in. “Sweetheart, it’s time for him to leave. Come on, we’ll get ice cream on the way back.”

“Bye!” Grace waved to the unknown man as you grabbed her hand and walked away from Mark.

He felt a little okay knowing his daughter knew something about him. Maybe one day you would change your mind and let Grace know the truth.

MIAMI 2024

Mark wouldn’t see you or Grace until the Miami Grand Prix. He honestly didn’t feel like even going, but Oscar insisted. At least he wasn’t going to be alone, Jenson was also going, but the British man would be conducting interviews. He kept busy looking at his phone until found him in the Mclaren hospitality. He wasn’t sure why you were even looking for him in the first place.

“Can you look after Grace? My friend couldn’t make it and she was the only person I trust to look after her. I wouldn’t ask if I had another option.” You sighed.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of her.” Mark nodded, putting his phone away. “Where is she?”

“She’s with Oscar in his driver’s room. Just please don’t mention the obvious.” You demanded.

“I won’t, but can I ask one thing?” He stared at your eyes that he still loved after many years. “Why did you tell Grace that her dad won nine races and that he was a driver? You could’ve lied.”

You didn’t want to lie to your daughter, you just couldn’t so you told her part of the truth. Technically, you didn’t think she would even meet Mark ever.

“I can’t lie to her. She knows when I’m lying anyways.” You said.

“What’s her favorite color?” Mark suddenly asked. “I want to know at least some stuff about her so I can talk to her. What if she gets bored halfway through the race?”

You hesitated even telling Mark, but you did anyway. “Her favorite color changes everyday, but today it’s purple. She loved coloring with chalk, she wants to have a puppy and name it Goose like the character from Top Gun, her favorite book series is Junie B. Jones and she tells everyone that she’s tall for her age.” You listed several things.

Mark smiled as he listened to you. “Top Gun? We watched Top Gun on our first date, you know?”

“You’re so annoying.”

You and Mark walk back to the Mclaren garage, which obviously made several people confused. Were you back together? No, you couldn’t be . . . right? By the time the race was close to starting, photos of you and Mark were everywhere. Even Sebastian had texted Jenson wondering about you and Mark.

Grace was sitting next to Mark when the race began. She occasionally glanced at him then grabbed his paddock pass and read his name.

“You’re here with Oscar?” She asked.

Mark nodded. “I’m his manager.”

“So you’re like his dad when his dad is not here?”

“That’s one way to put it.” He chuckled. “Your mum told me you like want a puppy.”

Grace’s eye lit up with joy. “Yes! The puppy is going to be named Goose and they’re going to sleep in my bed.”

Mark hardly payed attention to the race. He kept asking questions in hopes that he could learn more about her. Once in a while, you would look back only to see Mark and Grace laughing.

“One time, my mom almost lost her necklace because she was dancing too hard to her favorite song. It fell and we looked everywhere for it but we couldn’t see it because it was a small letter. But I found it!” Grace said which made Mark question if it was the same necklace that he had given you years ago.

“What letter was it?”

“I think it was M?”

The ‘M’ necklace was a gift from Mark on your first anniversary. It was old, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it. If anyone asked what the M stood for, you lied saying it was your middle name or for someone in your family.

“Does your mum always wear it?” Mark asked.

“Not anymore. But I think it’s pretty.” Grace replied. “Your name starts with M!”

All Mark did was nod.

The race had finished and soon you were back to your daughter. She had told you how Mark has dogs and invited her to meet them.

“Grace, can you go sit over there for a little while? I need to talk to Mark.” You pointed to the seat that she was sitting during the race. She obeyed and now it was just you and Mark. “Thank you. I really hope she wasn’t too much to handle.”

Mark shook his head. “She’s very talkative when it comes to her favorite things. She’s a great kid.” He debated whether to tell you about the necklace story that Grace had told him. Finally, he decided he would keep that to himself.

“I wanted you to hear this from me instead of the media. I’m leaving the team after this season.” You said only loud enough for him to hear.

“But you’ll be back, right? I mean the team is doing well, Lando just won his first ever race, obviously it could’ve been better for Oscar, but you are the heart and soul of this team.” Mark could see a frown forming on your face.

“I love this team, but it’s time for me to be a mom. Grace needs me, Mark. I already told Zak and it’s final. They’ll announce my departure soon. Thanks again for looking after Grace, this is the last time you’ll see her.”

He was glad that he could at least spend some time with Grace. She was a joy to be around. Their time together was something Mark would cherish forever.

For the rest of the 2024 season, Mark stopped calling you the Mclaren team principal and, instead, used your name. He praised you, gave you the credit you deserved and defended you any time. Mark had even made a statement about the person who had leaked the information about you and him when he talked with Fernando. It was rumored that a photographer had leaked it. He knew nothing was going to change, but he needed to correct his wrongs. It all started with an instagram post about you.

INSTAGRAM

(this is just for fanfic purposes, you can use any faceclaim)

liked by oscarpiastri, f1 and 837,377 others

aussiegrit everyone i meet will have to know you, to understand me. anyone that truly knows me, knows your name.

comments are limited

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[ashdreams2023]

Hiii, could I request a severus snape and little sister reader where she's the opposite of him and so all the students love her until someone insults him one day and she's all snarky and a miniature version of snape and everyone's like ".....maybe they are alike....." while severus looks on like a proud parent??? I love your fics so much!! Thankss!!

The same tree

Severus snape x professor sister reader 

The student body was in shambles the day you were announced as a new staff member, the name snape was enough to send shivers down some students backs.

They barely handled one snape, let alone two!

Everyone expected the worst, 2.0 snape female version then you got to your first class, it wasn’t like anything they had in mind.

Heck you gave house points and they paid attention to the lessons.

"She’s human, oh my god she’s not evil!"

It spread pretty quickly how nice and patient you were, you didn’t show any favoritism towards anyone nor did you encourage any rivalry in your class, as long as they passed it was a win for you.

Your office hours were filled with students coming to you for help, some even asking for help of topics other than what you teach, sometimes asking about stories of your youth but none dared to ask about your brother.

But there were times were kids can get way too comfortable in matters that have no business with them, unfortunately for a certain fourth year Ravenclaw he learned his lesson the hard way.

"I can’t believe that git took points because I added a point to his lesson! It’s fucking ridiculous, he’s a selfish idiot who only wants his way and everyone else is wrong"

"Jesus calm down mate, it’s only ten points you’ll live and he’s like the professor so…"

The Ravenclaw rolled his eyes "I know the book, I read it piece to piece I know my way around this stuff, he’s just one bitter old son of a bitch-"

"Excuse me you little bird" the boy froze as he felt a hand touching his shoulder, he looked up to meet your piercing dark eyes, they had the dangerously familiar feeling to those of their potion master.

"Professor i-"

"No no no…go on, continue what you were about to say so the oh so great Ravenclaw knows everything, because what? Because you read an outdated, basic, dusty ass potion book"

The boy swallowed, your tone was so different, you weren’t smiling and it reminded him of being schooled by severus snape himself.

"Why so quiet? Snake got your tongue?" You smiled proudly at the look of terror on the boy’s face "Let this be a lesson to you little bird, my brother is no idiot and without him little airheads and know it alls would be dead by now, so know your place, am I understood?" You tightened your grip on his shoulder.

"Yes ma’m!"

"And 30 points from Ravenclaw for showing disrespect to faculty staff members"

The boy’s jaw dropped but didn’t dear argue back and sprinted away with his friends, you couldn’t care less that students were watching, they call all spread rumors or whatever.

"Oh my god…she is like him…"

"Shush she’s gonna hear you! At least now we know not to overstep it"

You sighed and left the great hall, you pumped into your brother by the end of the day, he arched an eyebrow at you when you causally sat down and sipped your tea.

"I see you’ve made quite the impression today"

You shrugged "They’re just stupid kids, it was about time they learn anyways"

Severus leaned back on his armchair "You sound awfully familiar to me, I suppose I am rubbing off on you"

"The apples may look different but they all belong to the same tree" you smirked.

"You’re still terrible at potions though" He remarked knowing well how atrocious you were at his best interest.

"Hey! I was defending your honor"

You glared at him and he glared back then after a few seconds of intense looks you two snorted at each other and went back to having your regular sitting for the day.

Thank you for your kind words and glad you do 🥰

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #136 part 1

Danny felt disgruntled as he slowly came back into consciousness. He was in the middle of the Observants going over some of the new factions that have been growing since he became King. A sudden surge of power flung Danny through a portal and he tried to escape or make sense of what happened but he lost consciousness soon after. 

Coming too Danny was a lot smaller than what he thought he should be. His body had a different feel to it and he could tell he was turned into something that walked on all fours. He lifted his head and took in his surroundings. He was in a field, a field of wheat. He couldn’t even see anything besides the wheat and the sky. The portal that dumped him here was no where to be found either. He was going to have a hard time getting back home, especially in his new form. He could still feel his core but the transformation had done a number on him and he felt exhausted.

Suddenly he heard the wheat snap to his left and he whipped his head around to find a person carefully leaning down a few yards away from him. They seemed to analyze his body movements a little bit before he held out his hand that had a small piece of sausage in it. Danny knew not to take food from strangers but it honestly smelled heavenly and he doubted Sam would ever find out, so he hesitantly walked over and gave it a sniff. After he had taken it from them, they started petting Danny on the head. 

“You're an adorable little puppy aren’t you!” Ah so Danny was apparently a puppy, he probably should try to find a way back home but maybe being a dog for a while wouldn’t be too bad. He hasn’t had a break in a while and the Observants are so damn pushy sometimes. The stranger continued, “I’m going to take you to Damian, he knows a lot about pets. I feel like him and I got off on the wrong foot the other day and I think you’d be the perfect gift.” 

Danny wasn’t sure about being given away as a present but he supposed he had no where else to be and if Damian knew his pets as well as this guy said then Danny would be well cared for.

He was picked up and after a bit of walking they arrived at a farm house. Danny was better able to assess the size of the person holding him and they seemed around 10-12 years old. The kid ran excitedly into the kitchen of the house holding Danny out to an adult that, much like the kid, had black hair and blue eyes. 

“Dad! Look I found a puppy!! Can we bring him tonight to the Watchtower meeting so I can give him to Damian? I think he needs a friend and I want to apologize for how I acted the other day.” The kids dad seemed to give Danny a once over before responding.

“It’s probably fine but let me talk with Bruce first and make sure everything’s OK. We don’t want to force a pet on them even if Damian is good with animals.” He finally responded, he gave the kid a hair tussle and then continued, “Jon, why don’t you give him a bath upstairs while I give him a call, I think I still have some dog shampoo from last time I gave Krypto one.” 

The kid apparently named Jon ran up the stairs with Danny clutched against his chest. Soon he found himself wet in a bathtub, and then he was dried. He was finally able to get a good look at himself in the mirror, he looked like a miniature husky with white fur and dark black patches along his tail, back, and head. His icy blue eyes were piercing and he could see why someone would think he were cute, in fact he was down right adorable. 

After that Jon brought him to a bedroom he assumed belonged to Jon. It was a very basic kid’s bedroom and Danny found himself sprawled on the bed along with Jon. Jon spoke very fondly about Damian and the more he spoke the more Danny got the feeling Jon had a little crush.

Soon Jon’s dad came into the room to tell him that Danny could be given to Damian at the meeting tonight. Danny didn’t know what sort of work Jon's dad did but it sounded like Jon’s and Damian’s dads worked together. He wondered what kind of place the watchtower would be but he didn’t have to wonder for long. 

He also realized how different this world was from his own. Jon and his dad could fly and they wore these skin tight suits, honestly they looked like superheroes which was probably exactly what they were. They flew through the air and eventually they were in front of these tubes Danny honestly didn’t know what they were. Jon and his dad did though, and apparently it was teleportation. Danny was awestruck at the site in front of him, the Watchtower was in space and he could hardly keep in his excitement. 

Master Post:

Next:

[macksting]

"I still want to make things, but perhaps I should just keep them to myself for the time being. For anyone that cares, I’ll still be continuing Heart of Elynthi and the JOmega charity, but once those are finished I will be taking an indefinite break from posting anything online. It’s a decision I’ve considered ever since the first hate wave from about a year or so ago but wanted to sit on it and see if the feeling would persist. I know now this is the best choice for me."

If I catch anybody celebrating this, I am going to eat your kneecaps. This guy is a sweetheart, I have friends who needed the sort of kind, GNC representation of masculinity he presented earnestly, he was humble and respectful and tried to use his platform for good, and you fucking miserable little shitheads, you pearl-clutching jackasses, decided to take one video out of context and make a crusade out of it. Why don't y'all pick a fight that matters? You think Cop City is gonna crumble because you chased someone offline who was supportive of trans folks and was glad to have been liberated from cishet society? Do you think the world is a better place now? If I find anyone celebrating this, I will be eating the forbidden plantain chips that are their fucking kneecaps. I may even let them have a bite. Yes I am fucking angry about this. Is it that important compared to everything else in the world right now? No, but you made one guy's life hell for no good reason, and that's horrible. Die in a fire. And to be clear, I am not angry about this on his behalf. He did not ask me to be angry. He does not most likely want anybody to face consequences for being a shit-eating little cop who feels good about themselves for crusading against a guy who is using his platform to help trans folks because we helped him too. This is for me. This is because I want a world liberated from oppression, not one where folks recreate it in miniature hoping this time they'll be the Big Man and everyone else will be oppressed, so they pick fights they know they can win just to abuse and belittle someone to feel good about themselves.

He was sweet. He still is. And I hope he lives a better life far away from this.

[avatar-anna]

Just a Taste

i was feeling inspired and i missed the young dadrry universe. enjoy!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

*.*

"Harry Edward Styles, don't you touch that!"

Harry's hand paused on his way to a mixing bowl filled with royal icing, a guilty look on his face. He really thought he'd been quiet enough to sneak past her. "Come on, Mama. Just a little taste?"

Y/n pinned her husband with a stare until his hand backed away. He went over to where she was rolling out dough with a rolling pin, a mix of holiday themed cookie cutters scattered around her. Flour coated her hands and arms, and a little had found its way to her cheek. Harry quickly wiped it away as he came around, his arms circling around her waist as he kissed the spot her flour had been.

He continued to kiss her until a smile appeared on her face and she finally stopped what she was doing to rest her hands on top of his, which had been Harry's goal, of course. She'd been up before he was to bake cookies, and he was feeling thoroughly ignored.

"Don't think by distracting me you'll get what you want," Y/n said, her eyes fluttering closed as Harry continued to nuzzle her neck.

"Think I want something else now," he murmured. Harry reached beneath her sweater, splaying his fingers along her heated skin. He knew every inch of her by now, each and every place that was the most sensitive and would make her arch into him or sigh contentedly. He wanted to reacquaint himself upstairs while they had time. "Come on. Simone's down for her nap. We can sneak upstairs for a little while."

Y/n all but melted at the promise in his voice, but she held fast. "I have to get this done. I told my parents I would bring cookies to their party."

Ah, there it is, Harry thought.

This was the first time Y/n, Harry, and Simone would be spending Christmas with Y/n's family. For the last couple years they spent the holidays in London with his family, but her parents reached out for a chance to start over and make amends this year. Y/n hadn't wanted to accept, but Harry encouraged her to at least hear them out. It had been years since she'd seen them, and even though things had been rocky when she left home, he thought both her and her family deserved a chance to set things right.

Plus, who would be able to resist Simone? She was the most perfect kid on the planet. It would be impossible not to love her, let alone hold any resentment over her.

"Everything is going to be just fine, my love," Harry promised. "Why don't you tell me what's really going on?"

Harry felt her body slouch as she exhaled a long sigh. Y/n turned in the circle of his arms and came to rest against him. She didn't say anything for a while, just relaxed against him while she gathered her thoughts.

She smelled like cinnamon and sugar, and over the top of her head, he spotted the gingerbread cookies she made earlier cooling on racks on the stove. They were his favorites, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on a couple of the miniature gingerbread men she'd cut the cookies into. Y/n had a knack for baking that really only came out around the holidays. Harry never thought he'd had a sweet tooth, but he had a weak spot for his wife's baked goods, and if his schedule was slow she spoiled him and Simone with all kinds of sweets. It was enough to make him work out for weeks after the holidays.

Before his thoughts got too carried away, Harry looked back at Y/n. He tipped her head up so she had to look him in the eye. He kissed her nose once, then her forehead, then her lips, until a small smile appeared. "Talk to me, Mama."

She sighed again, but this time she spoke. "I just...I want them to know that I'm doing a good job, I want them to know I'm a good mom."

"What? Baby, you're a fantastic mum," Harry said, a frown marring his features. That's what this is about? "You don't need their stamp of approval, Y/n."

"I know, I know. It's just that we're raising Simone so differently to how I grew up, and that's fine she's a great kid," Y/n explained. "I just don't want to give them any ammunition to judge how we're living our lives, you know? Making memories around the holidays were huge for me growing up. Christmas cards, decorating the tree, cookies, matching sweaters, and I—I don't want them to think Simone is growing up without that. I—I know it's stupid, but—"

"It's not stupid if that's how you feel," Harry said, cupping her cheek. His eyes searched hers, trying to decide if there was more that she wasn't saying. He'd become quite good at reading her, and he decided there wasn't. "But I don't think Simone is missing out on anything. Do you?"

Y/n shook her head. "She's happy, right? I know we don't lead the most conventional lifestyle, but she's happy, isn't she?"

"I'd say so. And hey, conventional's overrated. Remember when Niall dressed up as Santa so we could have a family picture? Or when we brought a Christmas tree with us on tour so we could put Simone's presents under it?"

Y/n grinned at the memories. "Or when the boys covered for us so we could sneak out and go to a Christmas market."

"I don't remember that one," Harry said as his brow furrowed.

Stretching up onto her toes, Y/n kissed his cheek. "That's because we never actually made it to the Christmas market."

"That's right! Simone was in Liam's room, and we stayed in, and you were wearing that little red set with the bows—"

Y/n kissed him properly this time, her arms crossing around his neck to bring him closer. His skin was soft and freshly shaven, a preference of Y/n's as she brought her hands to his face, though Harry had been trying to grow a little facial hair during his time off. He probably could've stayed like that all day, but he knew there was work to be done, and Y/n would be upset with herself if her icing went to waste.

"Let's get these cookies done and then head upstairs, hm?" he said even as Y/n began to kiss up and down his neck and his hands slid past her waist.

"Then get your hands off my ass, Styles."

"As soon as you untangle yourself from me, L/n," he said.

When she finally did, Y/n's lips were swollen, and her hair was a little messy. But she looked relaxed, not as tense as she had been when Harry came downstairs.

"Where do you need me?" he asked her, going to the sink to wash his hands before slinging an apron over his neck. "I can help with the baking part. I did work in a bakery, you know."

"Don't get me started," she murmured before offering the rolling pin. "Cookie cutting or decorating?"

"Mm...cutting. And maybe we save some just for us and Simone to do later?"

Y/n's grin was as wide as he'd ever seen it, which practically melted his heart into a puddle of goo at his feet. "Yeah?"

"Course, Mama. Between us, our little tyke is bound to be a baking genius."

Y/n rolled her eyes and swatted him with the towel that had been over her shoulder. They got to work, music playing on speakers, but low enough to hear Simone through the baby monitor if she woke up. Harry stole glances at Y/n as she got to work decorating the gingerbread men. He knew she was nervous, but he was thrilled that everything was starting to fall into place. Harry was home now that the band was on hiatus, Y/n was starting to mend her relationship with her parents, and Simone was about to get everything she asked Santa for and then some. At four years old, she didn't ask for much, but she had lots of uncles who were eager for a reason to shower her with gifts.

To Harry, everything was perfect.

Or, nearly perfect. Once the last batch of cookies were cooling and Y/n had decorated enough gingerbread men to take to her parents' house, Harry hauled her upstairs. "I still have that cute little set that you love so much," she murmured as she hastily pulled off his shirt. Excitement zinged through Harry at the thought, but he was too eager.

"Next time," he promised, falling back against the pillows, decorative ones Y/n had bought the week before.

"How do you want me?" she asked him, crawling to his side to run a hand through his hair. When he didn't respond right away, her brow furrowed. "H? Am I losing you?"

"No, I'm trying to think how much time we have before we're inevitably interrupted," he said.

"And then we have to get ready," Y/n said with a sigh, flopping on the bed next to him so that they were shoulder to shoulder. "Kiss and cuddle?"

Harry grinned. "You read my mind, Mama."

[whoistartaglia]

HII! Could i request zhongli,Xiao and ayato with a reader whos rich asf and spoils them with stuff,Like for zhongli he may be a bit broke but then reader comes in and now bros able to go on a shopping spree,Xiao who js "tch"s and says its kinda pointless but does accept it and idk abt ayato but yeah- HOPE IM NOT RUDE!! But do remember to rest and take breaks after <333

i love this request anon <3 thank you so much

absolutely spoiling genshin men because they deserve it

zhongli

the waiters at the restaurants you and zhongli frequent have learned to put the check down in front of you, not him.

it was a steep learning curve. your boyfriend is so naturally put together and wears such expensive clothes that who wouldn’t think he’s worth a million mora and more? but after the first several times of you grabbing the check, barely looking at the total, and putting down the correct amount and more, they learned you were the one to go to.

although there was one time this golden rule was broken. you and zhongli were returning from a shopping spree—on you, of course, considering the dust in zhongli’s wallet—when you decided to grab dinner. the waiter welcomed you with a polite smile and took your orders.

everything was going as normal, except for that when the check came, it was zhongli who reached for it, zhongli who glanced at the total, and zhongli who paid.

the waiter was polite enough not to drop open his mouth for too long and quickly accepted the total and generous tip. he turned, thankful and muttering something about buying a lottery ticket, and didn’t catch zhongli sheepishly sliding you your credit card under the table.

xiao

“i have no use for such mortal—“

“will you please just try on this shirt?”

xiao glares at you, but it’s half-hearted at best. he grabs the shirt and enters the changing room. the shopping spree was your idea, of course, and after a little but of grumbling, xiao relented to your financial whims.

“how does it fit?” you call out. xiao pokes his head our of the dressing room, and then steps out. his face has a subtle frown on it, but you dismiss that as him getting tired—this is the eighth store you’ve visited, after all.

“it looks great!” you compliment. you turn to the store associate. “we’ll buy it.” you hand over your credit card and they hurry off.

you turn back to xiao and find his frown has curled into an exasperated smile.

“you do realize that’s the tenth shirt you bought for me today.”

“so?” you ask. you cross your arms and pretend to pout. xiao opens his mouth to say something else, maybe tell you off for spending so much money on him, but doesn’t. he only kind of sighs and heads back into the changing room, making a mental note to never agree to another shopping spree again (even though he totally will).

ayato

when the check lands on the table, it is as if a miniature thunderstorm has started brewing in the restaurant. the waiter acknowledges the strange new tension in the air and scampers off, leaving you and ayato to face off against each other.

your hand lands on the check first, ayato’s a beat behind.

“let go,” you hiss under your breath, making sure to keep up your demure smile.

“you first.” ayato’s eyes are wicked and taunting, and his smile widens when you start to pull it towards you. it’s a dance you’ve both done several times before. this is nothing new.

“it’s my turn to pay.”

“you already paid earlier.”

“i have the money.”

ayato’s laugh is short and quick.

“so do i.”

you sigh and shake your head. you’re both so stubborn that you could dress this battle out for hours and leave the poor waiter in distress.

“fine,” you say, relenting. ayato’s eyebrows quirk up in surprise before you continue, “we’ll split the check. let me just see how much it is.”

his grip loosens by a fraction and you yank the check out, stuff in your credit card, and hand it off to the waiter before ayato can even blink.

“why you—“

“oh, please, just let me treat you—i’ll let you pay next time, okay?”

you both know that’s a lie.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

riddle's post-ob flashback in the light novel

Like the Leona post, I’m going to discuss the extended detail that the light novel goes into with Riddle’s backstory, then integrate it with what we know of him from the game. It looks like this is going to be a trend for the light novel, so I’ll most likely do similar analyses for the other OB boys as more volumes come out!

Anyway, read on if you’re curious 👀

Okay, so 🤔 from what we can observe from Riddle’s in-game post-OB flashback sequence, his mother has been dictating almost every aspect of his life, from what and how much he eats to his lengthy, rigorous study routine. As recently as Riddle’s Broomquet vignettes, we learned that even at 5 years old, he had already started and become accustomed to his intense studying. When Riddle fails to complete a task sufficiently, his mother has him redo it or study more until he finally succeeds.

This was Riddle’s “normal”, and he completely bought into it. In the game, this is explained as Riddle having trust in his mother due to her reputation in their community as a competent and well-respected medical mage. "After all, she was the most accomplished mother in the city, and therefore, the most correct." Riddle associates "correctness" with "accomplishments", and we see this attitude carry out in other aspects of the main story. He talks down to Yuu for lacking magic and brags about his own standing as top student to Azul, who regularly fluctuates from 2nd to 10th place. The light novel, however, grants us new perspective as to why Riddle tries so hard in his studies and seeks to please his mom. In turn, we can see how this domino effects into his struggles to connect with others.

In the light novel, Riddle notes that his mother would always tell him "everything is for you". "Everything", in this context, I'm assuming refers to all the time and effort Riddle is putting into his studying, the tight control of his life, etc. His mother has framed all of this as being beneficial to Riddle, and that she herself is pushing him to engage in these things because she loves and cares for him. This is something that Riddle then interprets as meaning she must love him the most in the entire world, something that he tells himself to justify her own actions in his own mind. It becomes a piece of "proof" that, later down the line, will make it difficult to reconcile with his complicated feelings on her once he realizes how toxic her child raising tactics were. (I go into more detail on this topic in this post!)

Riddle also says that if he responds with "yes, mother" then he will be praised for it. This, you'll notice, is a phrase that is very similar to what he demands his own dorm members respond to his orders with: "yes, dorm leader". It implies that Riddle is used to deferring to her judgement and authority, and so expects the same obedience of others when he is in that position of power. This agrees with his behavior in book 1. As Ace points out, Riddle is just acting like a miniature version of his own mom, right down to the angry reactions and shouting when things don't go his way.

Right after that, we get another short but telling line. Referring to his mother's affection, Riddle comments that he "doesn't need anything else", and decides to forgo asking for strawberry tarts ever again. He was willing to give up something he was curious about trying just to continue receiving praise. To me, this illustrates that the love of Mrs. Rosehearts was conditional: if you perform to her expectations, you get her love. If you don't perform to her expectations, well then, it's back to the books for you until you can. (Reminder: this does NOT confirm that Mrs. Rosehearts yells at Riddle or degrades him for not being “up to par”; there is just a sense of disappointment at this.) It implies that Riddle became used to a cycle of receiving the love and attention he wanted only when he behaved in a very specific way that his mother desired—otherwise, she withheld that affection. This is why Riddle believes following the rules will make him happy; it’s a result of what he has learned is the “norm” from his mother’s conditional love.

The light novel also shows us how this unhealthy mother-son relationship spills over into Riddle's other (potential) relationships. When Che'nya and Trey first approach him to invite Riddle to play with them, Riddle automatically says that he can't. He had the answer prepared for them, the response already deeply ingrained into him and likely already told to other children that tried to talk to him before. But even though Riddle rejects them, prioritizing his mother's praise over all else, he still feels a twinge of sadness about it. He even expects that he "let them down". "Let them down"? Now isn't that a funny statement. Why would Riddle be concerned about disappointing total strangers he has zero attachment to? Unless... he's so isolated that he just assumes everyone will treat him the same way his mother will. That they'll withhold love and attention if he doesn't act how they want him to. Thus, Riddle appears to associate failure to perform as resulting in rejection and lack of social acceptance.

This plays perfectly into one of the most chilling lines in Riddle's post-OB flashback: "But Mom... Why? Why does my heart hurt so much? [...] Tell me, Mom, please... What rule do I need to follow to make this pain go away?" These lines indicate Riddle finally coming to the realization that, deep down, he has always desired affection. A desire to make friends and to play with them, to have deeply intimate relationships. All he knew before was his mom was happy when he did well in his studies, so that was what he chose to excel in. Things changed when he was exposed to what unconditional love is like through Trey and Che'nya. Riddle's childhood friends are the ones who will love and accept him no matter what he's like, no matter what fuck-ups he makes or how socially awkward he is with them. He started to recognize that painful emptiness in him that never went way, no matter how many of his mom's rules he followed. Alas, Riddle was never able to come to terms with that sinking feeling because his mom had just torn him away from Trey and Che'nya not too long after learning that he had been skipping independent study time to play and eat a strawberry tart. He would not meet Trey again until enrolling at NRC, and by then, they've spent so much time apart (and, let's be real here, traumatized by Mrs. Rosehearts losing her temper over the tart incident) that her staunch mindset has clawed into Riddle's brain once more. His whole life, the main models of relationships he has to go off of are his mom and his dad, who don't appear to have a happy marriage (implied in his Suitor Suit voice lines). It's no wonder why making friends and truly opening up is difficult for him, even following the events of book 1. What else does Riddle have to reference? Crossword puzzles and textbooks? In Endless Halloween Night, the guy barely knows what a scavenger hunt is or how you'd find joy in it...

Unlike Leona, Riddle already had a pretty fleshed out backstory from his flashback. Instead of expanding on his motivations (as the light novel did with Leona), what the light novel does for Riddle is give us more information that implicates what his home life was like. It's still not that much, but it certainly better explains some of Riddle's oddly stringent viewpoints that we still see in the present day.

I know that this post was kind of a shorter read compared to the Leona one I did, but that's in part because I've already written at length about the complexities of Riddle's relationship with his mom, dad, and Trey. Those posts are bolded and linked, so if you're interested in more, then I'd recommend those readings!

[magicbystarlight]

Venomous - Part Eight

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: A wife. A mother. A witch with someone else's name. That’s the life you didn’t want. So Tom offered you more.

Word Count: 3,494

Warnings: 18+, arranged marriage, a dash of paranoia, age gap relationship, assault, terrible parenting. Minors DNI.

A/N: "You fucker" has been echoing in my head for days.

Christmas came to Hogwarts with a flurry of festivity. Miniature trees decorated in House colors lined the tables of the Great Hall while their grander counterparts found homes in all the corridors and darkened corners throughout the castle. Snow had fallen continuously for days, only giving the briefest reprieve to allow the final Quidditch match of the semester the last Saturday before break. 

Abraxas had been there, as he had for every other match that had happened since the announcement of your engagement. In fact, he had been there for everything since your engagement. Every party Slughorn hosted and every Hogsmeade trip. He’d even taken over his father’s role on the Board of Governors to perform surprise inspections on the professors. Most didn’t mind, they had adored him as a student and his winning smile was difficult to overcome. It was only Professor Dumbledore who seemed to find issue with it.

“Ahh, Mr. Malfoy,” he had greeted one mid-November morning when Abraxas strolled in unannounced. “I was wondering when you’d be stopping my class. What a coincidence it also happened to be during Miss Selwyn’s period.”

Giggles and whispers had broken out around you.

“A coincidence indeed,” Abraxas had replied back easily, sending a cheeky smile your way. "It was the first time our schedules overlapped, seeing as you've been in France so often." 

Several hours later Dumbledore had summoned you into his office. He’d always been your favorite professor and you’d once had a decent rapport with him. But, much like with Rick, he’d been busy dealing with things related to Grindelwald recently.

“I would like to apologize,” he had said as he placed a cup of tea in front of you, “for this morning. I shouldn’t have made any mention of you to Mr. Malfoy. Especially in front of other students.”

The spoon stirred on its own after you added a dollop of milk and a single sugar cube. “It’s alright, Professor. You were just saying what everyone else has been thinking.” 

“Yes, I suppose I was. That’s actually what I wanted to speak with you about.” He sat on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms across his chest. “It seems there’s been quite a bit of talk about you recently. And I'm concerned.”

The cup paused at your lips momentarily before you forced yourself to sip. The warm tea did little to calm the rising anxiety. “If this is about my relationship with Abraxas, I can assure you he has been nothing but a gentleman." Not even a real kiss yet. 

He shook his head. "As outdated as your engagement may be, Malfoy is not the person I'm most concerned about."

The cup clinked loudly against the plate as you sat it down. “I'm sorry, I'm not following."

He sighed, his leg bouncing as he looked out a window. "I have heard that Tom Riddle has taken an interest in you recently."

You folded your hands into your lap, fingers twisting at the Malfoy heirloom on your finger. "Has he? Seems like poor timing on his part, considering." The rumors surrounding him and you had settled, people more interested in the abrupt engagement. But Tom still watched. Not as often or as overtly, just more maliciously. A snake stalking wounded prey, waiting for the chance to strike its final blow.

"Yes, it would appear so." His leg stilled. "But, I promised your brother I’d keep an eye on you and I feel that I must warn you Tom…he isn’t all that he appears."

You wanted to scoff. His warning had come months too late. Whatever gossip he'd heard was outdated.

But no one had ever warned you about Tom before. Abigail had disliked and discouraged associating with him, but that had been about his unknown blood status. Dumbledore's tone suggested something more sinister. You knew he was dangerous. But how did Dumbledore?

You couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward, voice lowered. "Is there something I should know, Professor? Has he done something?"

"No," he said, finally pulling his gaze off the window with a tight grin. "It's just an old man's intuition." The smile didn’t reach his piercing gaze.

The ghost of a hand gripped your throat, the cold anger in dark eyes seeping into the blue of Dumbledore's. He was going to kill you. He was going to kill you. No. No.

No.

You blinked, shaking your head as your back met the chair. He didn't kill you. He'd never have that chance again either. "You have nothing to worry about then. I have no interest in engaging in any sort of relationship with Tom Riddle." 

The conversation had been strange. In the end it left you with more questions about Tom and that sort of curiosity was dangerous.

Dumbledore's meeting had proved useful, at least. He understood an inquisitive mind and, with a simple promise of a future essay on whatever you found, you left his office with a note allowing nearly unrestricted access to the Restricted Section to research Old Magicks. 

Not that you found much time to use it. The future Mrs. Malfoy was in high demand. Gossiping gaggles of girls wishing to be seen as part of your circle. Boastiters bustles of boys who wanted to get in good with Abraxas. Predictably pompous packs of Purebloods who thought they were important enough to take up your time. Perhaps it wasn't fair to shove them all into such narrow groupings, but the sheer amount of them had become so overwhelming that it had was impossible to separate the individuals from the mob.

It was only now, the few hours between the final exam of the semester and the beginning of Christmas Break, that you'd managed to steal away to the library without notice. Books were skewed across tables, parchment splattered unceremoniously with notes in nearly illegible script of anything that could be useful for the future. Unlike the main library, the Restricted Sections held no catalog. It seemed a terrible oversight. Perhaps you could help Madam Gormount create one.

You were bent over a table, flipping through the index of another book you’d pulled off the shelf when soft footsteps broke through the silence. Muscles tensed as your eyes flew frantically to your wand that lay discarded two tables away. The steps grew closer and closer and you scrambled to it, your fingers grasping the wood just as a figure darkened the gaps of the shelves.                                           

"Little Bird?" Abraxas paused in the space between two shelves, eyebrows raised at the wand pointed at him.

"Brax," you breathed, dropping the wand back onto the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you."

He chuckled. "I feel privileged to have been spared your wrath. From what Merrythought said, I can imagine the damage you would have done to some other poor soul who interrupted your studying."

"I was only going to incapac—" you cut yourself off and stared back at him in disbelife. "Have you been asking about my grades?"

He grimaced, having the decency to look ashamed of himself. "Once or twice."

"Perhaps I should start calling you my father rather than my fiancé," you teased as he joined you.

"Then I would be forced to tell you it is well past your bedtime, young lady," he retorted, pressing a kiss against your forehead. Your hair jostled as he laughed at you swatting his arm.

The rumors surrounding the engagement hadn’t been as egregious as they could have been thanks to your forethought, but there had still been whispers surrounding it. Some afraid you were being taken advantage of, others wondering what sort of blackmail you had to force Abraxas Malfoy into the arranged marriage. Those rumors were easy to refute without uttering a word. Abraxas, above all else, was your friend. Smiles came naturally, an ease between you that had been built through the years. Of course, that only led to rumors of an Imperious Curse or love potion. 

"Looking for your mysterious old magic?" he asked, eyeing the mess of books, parchment, and an ink bottle knocked over with its spillage dripping off the table.

Tapping your wand against the table, the mess began to right itself. Ink retreated back into its bottle. Parchment straigtened itself into a pile. Books closed. "In vain, so far."

“Perhaps we can spend some time in the library at the Manor over your break."

You gazed up at him fondly. "You certainly know how to woo a woman, Mr. Malfoy."

—

The silence was deafening as the compartment door slid shut. It had been weeks since you'd said more than a couple words in passing to Larissa and even longer since you had spoken to Abigail at all. You had been determined to make that even longer, but you'd come back from breakfast to find two small presents sitting on top of your trunk. Larissa had given a framed photo of the three of you from Third Year, smiling happily in a booth at The Three Broomsticks. A sweet momento of a happier time.

Abigail's gift was a romance by one of her favorite muggle authors. "A Marriage Not-So-Convenient." A gift had never made you laugh so hard before. Only Abigail would think to give a novel about an arranged marriage to apologize for her part in creating yours.

"I'm sorry," Abigail spoke quietly as you sat across from her.

"Me too," Larissa added.

You reached out and gripped their hands. "I'm sorry." That was all that needed to be said between you.

"I'll be with the Malfoy's for most of break, but I want a day for us in Diagon Alley. My treat, whatever you want."

"We can go look at wedding dresses!"

“Too soon, Issa,” Abigail scolded Larissa like she hadn’t gifted you a book about an arranged marriage this morning.

“It’s fine.” You squeezed their hands. “But I think we should save the dress shopping for summer. I need a day to be a normal eighteen year old.”

Abigail gave a sad smile. “Of course.”

“Are you going to tell us how it happened?” Larissa asked. “How it really happened.”

They must have heard the rumors. Of course they had. “He did it to protect me.”

“How roman—“ Larissa’s squeal was cut off by Abigail’s elbow to her side. “Ow!”

“It is romantic,” you said, leaning back into the seat. “Brax is…perfect. I’m almost glad this is happening.”

Abigail always knew you better. “Almost.”

Your eyes dropped to the ring that weighed heavily on your finger. A witch of someone else’s name. “Almost.”

—

“Don’t you think it a tad selfish, my dear, to deprive Abraxas of his wife for so long?” 

The grip on your drink tightened at the question. Velena Fawley lacked the skills many in her position as the Minister’s wife should have. Her hosting etiqutte left much to be desired, with her half drunk before half her guest had even arrived, but the most egrigious was her lack of subtletly in conversation. 

“Yes, it is nice for a young woman to have her education these days, but you certainly won’t need it.” A splash of her drink landed on your bare arm as her hands gestured mindlessly. “But a man, well, he has certain physical needs and unless you want him looking to others to fulfill them...”

You almost missed the days when you avoided these parties, (rightfully) frightened of Tom. At least you had  not been subjected to these sorts of interactions. Now and for the foreseeable future, however, these sorts of events would be completely unavoidable as Mrs. Malfoy. Abraxas had promised to stay by your side the entire night, but he'd been pulled off somewhere by someone minutes after your arrival and you hadn't seen him since. All evening you'd been pestered with talk of your engagement. Some were simple congratulations. Others were like Velena, questioning why the wedding needed to wait for schooling to finish when you were already of age. A few had already begun to blindly attempt to curry your favor.

The worst had been Cantankerus Nott, a widower with children older than Abraxas, who had expressed his displeasure at not having the opportunity to bid for your hand. A shiver ran down your spin remembering the way he’d leered. The teal gown you wore seemed too thin, too revealing under his gaze.

“—no one likes to think about their husband—or fiancé for you, I suppose, going off and getting it wet, but he very well could if you are forcing him to wait more than a year—“

“I appreciate your concern,” you cut in, unsure how much longer you could bear to hear her prattle, “it is an honor to have the Minister's wife of all people worry for me. But I have taken up too much of your time. So many of your wonderful, important guests must crave even a fraction of what you've given me.” 

She blinked several times, her alcohol addled mind needing a few more seconds to take in the words. Her eyes widened as she finally comprehended. "Oh, yes! I am the hostess, aren't I? Well lovely chatting with you dear!" Someone behind you caught her attention and she was off.

Navigating through the horde in the opposite direction, you kept your head down to avoid being stopped and dragged into another mind-numbing conversation. How anyone thought a political spectacle like this was a proper way to spend Christmas Eve you could never comprehend. 

Larissa had told you rather happily of her family’s traditions that involved only themselves, seasonal treats, and silly children’s games. Abigail rarely spoke of her home life, knowing neither you nor Larissa could quite understand the Muggle world she’d been forced to grow up in, but you recalled her fond smile once when she spoke about getting to help with a play every year. 

Downing what was left of your drink, you set the glass on one of the trays that floated by and scanned the room for a friendly face. A cousin from school hopefully. At least they'd gotten their fill of your engagement already. Instead it was your mother's disapproving glare you found.

The days you’d spent at Malfoy Manor hadn’t saved you from her presence and it seemed a party full of people wouldn’t either. “Enjoying yourself, are you?" she asked as you came to stand beside her. 

"It was rosewater."

Her contentious huff made you wonder if Velena had a point in being blissfully drunk. Perhaps then you could have some tiny enjoyment in your mother’s company. “I have not seen Abraxas with you since we arrived. Did he bore of you so quickly?”

You bit your tongue. Selene Selwyn, you'd realized recently, was bitter. Bitter at the life that had been forced on her, the man she had married, the children she did not want, the expectations put on her that were impossible to reach. She was bitter that she’d done the same to you, but you’d managed to secure the Malfoy heir while all she'd gotten was one of the Selwyns. 

“I’ve monopolized much of his time recently, he deserves some with his friends.” 

"Find him," she instructed, "people are already talking about him regretting the engagement." She leaned in and lowered her voice. "For once in your life don't embarrass this family." She left you with one last sharp look before pulling her face into a smile and walking off. 

Bitter old hag. You hated her. Gods, did you hate her.

The night's air stung as you stepped out of the party onto the balcony. During the summer and spring, it would be packed with people enjoying the view of the blossomed Fawley Garden. Few dared to brave it in the frigid temperature for the decayed scene it held now. Long, thin, shafts of light spilled across it from the half draped sets of glass doors that lined it, the rest of it barely lit by the sliver of waxing moon. In the darkness between two beams of the light, you rested your back against the stone railing. 

It had been a bitter discovery when you'd stepped off the train to find your mother with Abraxas. You'd expected to see her for a dinner or two, in passing at parties, for the annual New Year's Lunch with her parents, but that you'd be mostly free of her. You weren't. Your invitation to stay at Malfoy Manor during the holiday had been extended to her. The scrutiny you'd been under at Hogwarts was nothing in comparison to her's. Every insignificant detail of your appearance and interactions with Abraxas and his parents was nitpicked. Any free time you'd hoped to have with Abraxas perosing his library was thwarted by her desire to carve out the details of the wedding that didn’t even have a date set yet.

Even now, of age and engaged, your mother had control of everything. 

A familiar flash of silver blonde hair caught your eye. Your first sighting of your fiancé in hours. Vaguely familiar people of status and wealth surrounded him. If you stared long enough you could probably recall their names. You turned your back to the window to stare over the dead foliage instead.

In a few days you’d be with your friends. In a few more you’d be back at Hogwarts. There was a New Year’s Eve party you were meant to attend between then, but maybe Abraxas could be convinced to slip away early and enjoy the beginning of a new year tucked away in his library. All you needed was to get through the night. 

Two figures appeared with loud pops in the middle of the lifeless garden. It was one thing to be late to a party, but this late? You straightened trying to make out who they were, but they were too far and there was too little light. They walked quickly and their voices carried, but not enough to hear what they were saying or identify who they were.

You stayed hidden in the shadows until finally you could make out their faces. One was Theseus Scamander, Head Auror. The other was your brother.

“Rick!” You nearly tripped down the stairs as you ran to meet them and smashed into your brother. It had been so long, too long, since you’d seen him. You held him tight. And as his arms wrapped around you tears welled.

"Hey, kiddo," he said with a hitch in his voice. “I’ve missed you.”

More words caught in your throat, too overwhelmed to speak. Rick was here. A bit shaggier, his beard scratching against your scalp, but here. 

He pulled away too soon. 

“Why are you here? Weren’t you avoiding parties?”

 “I was.” Your fingers flexed at your side. “But I can't really do that anymore.”

Warrick’s brows knitted together, but his response was interrupted.

"I'm very sorry to cut this short, but we're already late." Thesesus gave a tight lipped smile.

He sighed as he checked his watch. "Right.” He squeezed your arm lightly. “We're here on business. But I’ll be by tomorrow and we’ll catch up then. Okay?”

He was already following his boss up the stairs. Their stride was much quicker than yours and you struggled to keep up. "Okay, but I'm not at home for break."

"Really? Mum finally let you stay at Hogwarts?” Blast his long legs. He was nearly at the top.

"No.” You caught yourself against the rail, tripped by your dress catching under your shoe. “I’m staying with Abraxas.”

He stopped. “Why?”

“Have you not read a single letter in the past few months?” You were more out of breath than you liked when you caught up with him. The emerald caught the moonlight as you held up your hand. “We’re engaged.”

Warrick stared at the ring. “Engaged?”

“Merlin, Rick! It’s all anyone’s been bloody talking about! I’ve written three times about it!”

He didn’t have the decency to apologize. Instead roaming his harsh gaze over the doors until he found what he was looking for. He set off without a word.

“Rick!” Theseus called, clambering after him. He tried grabbing his arm, but your brother slipped out of his grip easily.

You too scrambled after him, lifting your dress. You couldn’t quite understand what was happening, but you knew it was not good. “Rick, stop!”

He swung open a set of doors. People were shoved out of the way and a chorus of annoyance sounded. You got to the doors just in time to see him approach Abraxas.

"You fucker," Warrick thundered before pulling back his arm and smashing his fist into Abraxas' face.

Abraxas stumbled backwards knocking into more guests. Blood seeped out of his nose. 

Warrick raised his arm again. "My sister! My little sister! She's a child you sick—" His voice cut off and his entire body froze.

Theseus lowered his wand.

The sound of clicking followed a dozen flashing lights.

Next

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc @bluegiraffeplushie

Venomous Tag List: @pearlsofme @fck-this @ambria @sheeple @strangunddurm @weirdowithnobeardo @emberenchanted

[rebornologist]

♡ Misc. Varia Headcanons ✧ 1 of 2

✧ Belphegor is fascinated by the dentist office kid's toy. He thinks its an absurd little contraption, but he really enjoyed something akin to mouse trap as a child and the structure of moving blocks and balls reminds him of that silly little game. It's where he began training his brain to set up traps. He would have also been a Lego kid and enjoys a good 3D puzzle. Unfortunately for him, he also had a very traumatizing childhood and is not the best at tuning in to and soothing his inner child, so you won't necessarily find him building a little miniature saw trap for fun.

Speaking of the dentist office, he built up a very meticulous routine with his dental health and adheres to it pretty well, despite being fairly lazy with everything else. It's just a part of his morning and evening routine, so he doesn't think much of it at this point in his life. Compared to the rules and to-dos that he had growing up, this is the most lax living situation he could be in.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ✧

✧ Lussuria is a notorious shower singer, it's like he has whole entire pop concerts in there. He will go through Lady Gaga's entire discography if nobody stopped him. He may not always have time for it, but hell, he will make time because there is nothing better for him than a little Sunday reset everything shower. He has a similar routine prior to missions as well.. gotta look and feel his best for his fabulous job, clearly.

He's an enigma for how packed his schedule is and how he has time to do so much. He has missions to complete, physical training and conditioning, so much paperwork to fill out, and is actually in charge of a lot of the Varia "onboarding", if that makes sense. Part of it is because he does see them as a family and wants everyone to be welcomed appropriately to the team. A lot of the underlings really like Luss for that reason, he's the most warm and welcoming, as odd as he can be. A number of Varia members don't even get to see their boss in the flesh, mostly hearing about him.. or hearing his outbursts and being too scared to approach and find out what happened this time... as a result, many are most familiar with Luss and Squalo as the representative leadership.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ✧

✧ Levi loves a good affogato, and would rather die than let the word get around that he likes ice cream in his coffee. He does not like black coffee at all, and sometimes is secretly, on the inside, extremely displeased when that is all they have available. He's got too much of a tough guy exterior to keep up to bring it up, though.

He uses a ton of alarm clocks to wake himself up, and it's fine until they are working from outside of their usual base and the walls are any less soundproof than the ones at their mansion. He's a heavy sleeper, and he falls asleep fast. Like, flop down into bed and start snoring within 90 seconds type of fast.

Y'all is it so obvious that I'm so work-brained right now.. why am I thinking about Varia onboarding procedures... I love Luss so much can you tell. I was going to continue with the other members but I got sleepy... gn xx

[missingmayuri]

At Midnight

Mayuri X Reader

It wasn't often you were asked to stay behind for extra work, Captain Kurotsuchi usually preferring the company of someone he trusted more. Someone like Akon or Hiyosu. In the past Mayuri was very reluctant to let regular workers into the lab past hours but more recently he began to do just that for reasons unknown. Most of the time he called upon you, unable to really understand why. Not only that but your late nights with the Captain always played out much different to what others in the squad experienced. Some experienced anger, most experienced dismissal.

Not you though.

You experienced intelligent conversation and consideration, sometimes even an acknowledgement of your skills and smarts. It was very unlike him, that much you knew but you appreciated having a mostly quiet and spacious place to work in. You had no reason to complain and one day you would thank the captain for the opportunity to work in such conditions.

Standing at the cold steel table you place your scalpel to the side, wiping off the specs of blood with your stained cloth. Tonight the Captain needed help dissecting some specimens, claiming he needed a steady hand for more delicate veins and arteries. Despite knowing Mayuri had steady enough hands you didn't question his choice, doing as he asked every time. It was always the best to stay on his good side.

You wrap a cleaner cloth around the dismantled miniature hollow to stop it being exposed to open air, placing it in a nearby cooler box for even more protection and writing down your findings in the notebook Mayuri had supplied you with. It was black leather and guilded gold down the spine, filled to the brim with knowledge the Captain insisted you commit to memory. You had once questioned him many moons ago about the nature of such a gift, knowing nobody else had received a thing. Let alone something so beautiful. You were met with a huff and a wave of a ghostly white hand in response.

"Have you ever considered I want my squad members to take pride in their research? To display it in the proper manner and with the upmost respect?"

You still didn't understand weeks later if he was being sarcastic or genuine but knowing Mayuri Kurotsuchi it was probably the latter.

You take the specimen over to the shelf, alphabetized by species name and size, making sure you placed the container on the correct shelf. The Captain seemed in a better mood today and you wanted to keep it that way, able to hear little chuckles and noises of excitement and exhilaration from the other side of the room as he looked closely at the hollow before him with a large gleeful grin, mixing various compounds into his beaker close by.

"Yes! Excellent! What a fantastic subject!"

You watch him closely, always fascinated by the love of his work and the care those slender and nimble hands put into it. You find a soft smile making it's way onto your face as you continue to stare, getting lost in those deep golden eyes that shone through the dim lights.

It doesn't last long, your smile suddenly replaced with a deep blush upon being noticed. You frantically apologise, turning back to the shelf as you suddenly hear sandals tapping on the cold lab floor. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, thoughts all over the place and unable to pin one down. All you knew is all of them involved Mayuri.

Would he be mad at you staring?

Was be going to shout, blame you for breaking his concentration?

Everything was swirling like bloody water down a sink and in your sheer panic and hearing the footsteps halt did your mind piece everything together.

All the late shifts, just you and him.

The expensive notebook.

The lack of a raised voice and the compliments.

He couldn't be. Right?

"Care to explain why you were staring?"

His voice was calm, yet had a slight amused edge to it, shocking you so much no words could exit your mouth. You could produce no more then mumbles and stutters, his mere voice taking the wind out of your sails completely. You could hear him chuckling behind you, breath hitching as he turns you to face him. Your face surly couldn't get any hotter, immediately proven wrong when Mayuri takes your hand gently and pulls you to the table he was working at.

You couldn't think, mind a foggy mess as a scalpel is once again placed in your hand but this time over the specimen the Captain had been working on.

"I have a little experiment I want to try. It's going to take a few nights to complete"

Your hand was shaking over the hollow, unable to find a decent grip as you tried to focus on both it and the Captain's words.

What sort of experiment did he want to try and why did it involve you?

A pair of slender arms wrapping around your waist, kiss to your cheek leaving a black lip mark was enough to freeze you completely and grip the tool tighter.

"I want to see how well my best worker works with distinctions"

The blush depends but this time accompanying a smile.

You wouldn't mind a few more late night shifts after all.

[thesith]

— Chapter Five: Return to Coruscant

Bedtime Story Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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“Calm down, will you?” Crosshair snarled at the child, who somehow was making this situation worse for him.

He was trapped on Kamino’s facility with his ex-squadmates - his brothers, who left him. “Loyalty is everything” my ass.

“Sorry,” Omega offered, attempting to stop the bouncing of her leg. “Our brothers usually help me relax, but they’re busy. Obviously.”

Crosshair crossed his arms and huffed, wanting nothing more than to shut the kid up, “What do they do?”

Omega smiled at the ground, remembering the story her brothers had been sharing with her, “They’re in the middle of telling me a story-” Omega was cut-off by a whine coming from Crosshair, “The story is about the Commander.”

Crosshair’s body went rigid - the Commander. One of the only people he’d truly cared for. “How far did they get?”

“Up to the incoming transmission from Coruscant.”

Crosshair sighed, “Which one?”

You greeted the council member respectfully, regardless of how much you didn’t want to. You were used to bottling your feelings - this was no different.

“Padawan, you will be returning to Coruscant to continue your training under a new Master.” The older Jedi spoke, not even gracing you with a greeting.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, “Which Master will I be training under?”

“You’re looking at him.”

Your jaw dropped. Of all council members, he was the one you’d least expect to take a Padawan under his wing. He was also the one master you did not want to train under. “Thank you for this opportunity, Master Windu,” You replied cordially.

”Report to the Council when you arrive, Padawan. Safe travels.”

The last part was so unlike him, but you nodded and cut off the transmission. This was the absolute worst case scenario - leaving Clone Force 99 earlier than anticipated on less-than-optimal terms with Hunter, and having to train under one of the harshest Jedi imaginable.

Tech, Crosshair, and Wrecker looked at you with dread in their eyes - they didn’t want you to leave either. Tech looked away from you and set the navicomputer to Coruscant’s coordinates, jumping into hyperspace.

As if on cue, Hunter made his way into the cockpit and could feel how upset everybody was, “What’s this all about?” He asked cluelessly.

You blankly stared at the unknowing clone, “I’m being hailed back to Coruscant to resume my training.”

Hunter’s face dropped the same as everybody else’s before tightly wrapping his arms around your frame, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. You returned the embrace without hesitation.

The trip back to Coruscant wasn’t as long as you’d wished it was - filled with reminiscing over your times together and some tears, you realized how much you really loved your squad.

”You know,” Crosshair started, looking into your eyes as your ship descended into the Coruscanti air, “You aren’t the worst Jedi ever.”

“Thanks, means so much coming from you,” You sarcastically retorted, a hum coming from the recipient.

“I just might miss you, Commander,” Crosshair said, “Take care of yourself.”

You held out your arms for an embrace, which Crosshair “reluctantly” accepted. You knew he wasn’t one for physical touch, but he wouldn’t admit to wanting to be hugged from time to time.

After the hug with Crosshair, a waiting Wrecker took his turn to speak, “I’m not afraid to say it, I’m gonna miss you.” He held out a miniature Lula for you to take - the ‘child’ of Wrecker’s tooka doll.

“Wrecker… I can’t accept this.”

A small smile enveloped Wrecker’s mouth, “She’ll be in good hands with you. Plus, it’s not like she’ll be gone forever. You can give her back the next time we see each other. Lula wants you ‘ta hold onto her, too.”

You ended up taking the mini-Lula into your hands and holding her to your chest - he was more thoughtful than he led on.

You felt the ship set down on one of the Temple’s docking bays, shaking you from a thoughtful stare, “Thank you, Wrecker.”

“Commander, if I may,” Tech emerged from his seat, holding a small red and black droid you’d never seen before, “This is BD-99, an explorer droid. I’ve read that BD units make for excellent companions, so I constructed one to accompany you on your travels.” Tech pressed a button, allowing the droid to spring to life and jump from his hands to your shoulder.

“This particular unit is equipped with a holoprojector, scanners, sensors, and various tools you may need along your journey without us,” Tech further explained, “I have also transferred data onto her with some holorecordings. I do hope she will suffice.”

‘99 greeted you with a chirp, which you replied happily to. “Thank you, Tech. I’ll take good care of her.”

“It is not a problem, I do hope we will see each other soon. Your insight will be missed.”

As you approached the door to the Marauder, the ramp descended toward the cement landing pad - this was it. You started walking down the steps, two feet meeting the solid ground. You took a deep breath of the Coruscant air and allowed your eyes to scan your surroundings - you wanted to turn back.

A familiar hand rested on your shoulder, pulling you into their arms. You could tell who they belonged to from anywhere. You relaxed into Hunter’s embrace - one you’ve come to love over the many rotations spent with Clone Force 99.

“Saving the best for last, huh?” You mumbled into Hunter’s chest, which he acknowledged by tightening his arms around you.

“This your way of admitting that I’m your favorite?” He laughed bittersweetly, “If you didn’t know, I’m gonna miss you.”

You smiled, “Even when I throw things at you on the Marauder?”

“Especially because you throw things at me on the Marauder.” He focused on you, “Not having you around is gonna be weird, Commander.”

“Eh, you’ll get used to it,” You released your grip on Hunter, taking a few steps back, “All good things come to an end.”

Hunter had a reminiscent look on his face in consideration of your words, “I wish they didn’t have to.”

You nodded in agreement, “Well, it’s not like we’ll never see each other again, right?”

The question with an uncertain answer lingered in the air for a moment before Hunter spoke, “Yeah, you have to give the doll back to Wrecker sometime.” His gaze landed on the tooka doll that's head peeked from beneath your robes. “Plus, I’m sure BD-99 and Gonky would enjoy a play-date.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled at the Sergeant, “Just for the droids, right?”

99 beeped from your shoulder in agreement, a subsequent laugh falling from your lips. Once your laughs subsided, you realized that Coruscant has never felt so quiet. You slowly blinked at the man in front of you, who in the year you’d spent together had become many things to you; a stranger, a leader, and a friend… among other things.

“Stay safe out there, Sergeant.”

Hunter nodded, “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you?”

You shook your head with a smile on your face, looking toward the cement before bringing your eyes to meet his, “I’ll see you sometime, Hunter.”

He used his pointer and middle fingers to salute you before walking up the Marauder’s ramp and turning around, watching your parting figure.

A thin hand placed itself on his shoulder, just as he did to you moments ago. “They’ll be fine, Hunter. We’ll see them again.”

“Yeah I know, Crosshair.”

[sofasoap]

Warmth

Pairing: König x  f!Reader ( aka “Mini” MacTavish ) 

Summary: Valentines piece for our lovely König. Domestic moments.

Warning: M rated. Fluffs. smidgen hint of sexy time. mention of hospital related stuff.

English isn't my first language so forgive me for mistakes. Also you are responsible for your own media consumption. turn away now if its not for you.

A/N : Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic “ “The Favorite MacTavish” ” which she graciously let me borrow and write bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background, while you are there, go read her wonderful CoD fics too!

“masterlist” for more prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

You slowly waking up to the cold air stinging your face. Although it's already mid February, the chill is still there. Burrowing further into the duvet, you shuffle towards the other side of bed in search of some warmth from your husband, but you found his side of bed empty.

Letting out a sigh, you dragged yourself out of the bed. Putting a slipper and thick robe on, and head towards the living area.

As you walk along the corridor, you heard sounds coming out from the kitchen. Soft chatter and clanking sound of pots and pans. Standing by the door way you see two figures, your very tall husband and your two year old son Alex, even with the stool just barely reaches the counter top, with their back to the door, prepping food and conversing in German.

You smile at the scene. You can see the concentration on his face as your son mixing the batter with his miniature utensils which König insist on purchasing, " Got to start from young. I watch my Oma and Mama cook in the kitchen when I was his age." König quietly instructing his son while cutting up some fruits. It's hard to imaging such a intimidating figure on the battlefield can be so soft and gentle to a child. Your big teddy bear.

The cold air is getting to you, you let out a sneeze, sensing your presence, the two of them stopped what they were doing and turned around.

" Ma!" Alex put his mixing bowl down, clumsily climb down the stool and ran towards you for a hug.

" Madainn mhath my sweet little pie. What are you up to?" You picked him up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

" Pa teach me pancake!" He giggled. " OH really?"

"Guten Morgen Liebling, why you up so early?" He asked as he pulls you into a hug and kissing you on the head.

" My furnace was gone." You pouted.

" Sorry but I didn't want to wake you up... you worked so late last night. Was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed. "

"Says the person that just got home from two month long mission."

" Come on. Go sit down, I am making your favourite."

"kaiserschmarrn?" you beamed. It's your favourite amongst all the sweets he makes since he brought it to you at the hospital visit after terrorist attack.

" What else?" He smiled.

You put your son down and make your way to the dining table. The little boy climbed back to the stool and continue to mix the batter. König proceed to make a cup of coffee for you with cream on top.

" Thanks love." Vienna style. Just the way you like it. Sipping on the coffee you close your eyes and relax.

You don't know how you got so lucky with your life, to have a husband that loves you unconditionally, a son although is a bit of a little rascal sometimes , he is a gentle boy just like his father. When you told him about the news of pregnancy, he was overjoyed, he immediately set to work on setting up the new nursery, hand making EVERYTHING from scratch. Including the cot, the toys, asking his mother and Oma to make quilts and clothes for their future great/grand kid). This man never cease to amaze you.

You brought back to the present by the sound of plate and cutlery placed in front of you. Inhaling the smell of the pancake you couldn't wait to dig in. You reach out your hand to pick a piece of the pancake,

" Ma! wait! Don't eat!"

König look at you with a smirk, you chuckled " Sorry bub, Ma will wait for you to sit down."

König put his son on to his chair with booster seat and sat down beside you. Leaning over for a kiss again he whispered,

" Happy Valentines day Liebling. NOW you can dig in."

Later that night, as you two lie in bed, you slowly traces your finger on his scars, from the older ones to the latest one. He came home from the latest mission few nights ago, and as you jump up to give him a big hug, König winced. It's only then you realise he has been injured again. flipping his shirt up ( as he chucked " Liebling wait until we get into bed..." ) You notice the gunshot wound he has received, very close to vital organs too. You burst out crying, it took König great deal of effort to console you, even waking up your son up with the noise.

" ... Everytime I look at these... I always think how close I am to lose you.." you burrow yourself into his chest, trying to be close to him as possible. With König, Johnny and Simon, three of your closest family member in military, everytime they say their goodbye to you, you feel it will be the last time you ever see them. You thought back to the time you nearly lost König with the Europe mission. Watching him lying there with all the machine connected to him, not moving, you were struck with fear. Even with your work in the emergency department you have seen your fair shares of injuries and death, but when it is one of your own, the love of your life... you shivered at the thought.

Cupping your face with both of his hand, he pull you up into a deep kiss. " I WILL always come back to you Liebling, and to Alex. I promise that." He whispered as he lean his forehead against yours.

"... You sure you don't want to retire from military and open a pastry shop?" You teased him a little with tears in your eyes. He laughed. Shaking his head, " Not anytime soon... I can't leave my brothers fighting alone on the field." You know that. Only thing you can do is hoping and praying to whatever is out there for them to come back safely every time you send them off.

"Just make sure you pass on all your family secret recipes to Alex before you go." You mumbled.

" Why do I have a feeling you married me for my baking."

" Well, that's the bonus part.. I marry you because you are my teddy bear," he blushed. " You are gentle... you make me feel safe... " hand gliding down towards his abs, tracing little circles there, you see his eyes going dark, " and a great love..." Not letting you finish he capture your lips once again, you smile into his mouth. It's going to be a long night, but you don't mind a bit.

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 25 The Big Reveal

OMG SEASON FINALE HVJNKBGDF I'VE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE THIS FOR SO LONG

NAAAAA i'm just gonna jump right into it it's a long episode

Although! To fit Cartoonverse lore it is a bit different from canon as usual, just to warn you!

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

The submarine arrives in France, and the guests head back onto land, eagerly awaiting Logico’s long-awaited story conclusion.

LOGICO: The Bloody Assassin did not kill Beloved Butler Beryl. In fact, I doubt they were even real.

The people gasp! 

LOGICO: I’ve delved into the past once more and did further research. I’ve noticed discrepancies in the texts. Lord Violet was not standing heroically with a sword, faced against the assassin - he was lying on a bed with only a bag as a weapon. Lady Violet was not a small child. She was a teenager. And yet, there was definitely the sword. I’ve seen the blood on it. And my final conclusion is…

Irratino arrives at the isles. Everything is in flames and completely destroyed. But he feels Logico still with him. He must have escaped.

IRRATINO: [out into the distance] LOGICO, I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE, BUT I TRUST YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO. AND I’M COMING, NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES! LOGICO: I’m afraid Beryl… killed himself.

There’s a gasp of shock from the crowd, and an air of sadness. 

LOGICO: The poor fellow. No one deserves such a fate.

Lady Violet claws at her face. She can’t take it anymore!

VIOLET: No! That’s… you’re not right! LOGICO: I looked over the facts, and… VIOLET: You’re wrong, Logico. I was there. And I’ve been lying to you about everything!

Logico envisions the past! (aka a flashback)

VIOLET: My father was rescued by Beryl a long time ago.

The injured fawn Lord Violet collapses outside the dead forest. But a small figure approaches to help - it’s baby Beryl! 

BERYL: LITTLE GUY! YOU’RE SO SMOL!

Violet kicks and tries to stand.

BERYL: ‘ERE DO YOU WANT A CUPCAKE?

Violet turns and looks at him. Beryl falls down in shock of his burnt face. But he still slowly offers a cupcake to the thing. Violet, weak, hobbles over and sniffs it, doubling over in surprise of the sweet scent. Beryl is very amused!

BERYL: YOU WILL BE CALLED VIOLET, BECAUSE YOU’RE PURPLE!!

It’s not like the baby deer can object. He follows the miniature muppet home.

VIOLET: Beryl was the original heir to this castle. But as they grew older, he gave the honor to my father. He was respected and feared by all. The Reds had no motives to murder him, and the Iron Tsar wasn’t even the one who killed him. He brought so much income to the war, killing him would mean killing a fortune. But someone else had the motive. LOGICO: … VIOLET: It was me! I had the motive! If my dad continued to support the Reds, all the money that was supposed to be mine would disappear.  

Teenage Lady Violet tries to argue with her father, but she can’t. He can’t respond to anything, and chooses what he wants to listen to. He can completely ignore his daughter and no one can tell the difference. 

VIOLET: I wish you were a real person instead of just some animal!

Lord Violet’s face is so empty and expressionless. Even though it’s impossible to tell, she can just feel that he does not care. 

VIOLET: The problem was… he was still so much stronger than me. If he wanted to, he could kill me with ease. I needed backup. So I got Beryl.

VIOLET: Do you see how he treats you? This is not a friendship! He treats you like an animal! BERYL: WELL… I GUESS. BUT I DON’T WANT TO DO ANYTHING BAD. VIOLET: ‘Bad’ is subjective. Come on.

VIOLET: And I forced him to kill him… BERYL: NO! NO! NO! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME KILL HIM, HE’S MY BEST FRIEND!! VIOLET: He is NOT your best friend. He locks you in a CAGE. He hurts you EVERY SINGLE DAY!  BERYL: BUT… I LOVE HIM! VIOLET: NO, YOU DON’T!!! You have the sword. He’s just a deer. It will take two seconds. BERYL: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

VIOLET: Beryl was bound by life to serve us. He had to do what I said.

Lord Violet is asleep. But the second Beryl is locked in, he jerks awake. The butler is full-body trembling, holding the sword he was given. Shutting his eyes tight, he makes a slight movement forward. Lord Violet leaps off the bed and thrusts the sword out of his hands with his horns, breaking it in two. 

BERYL: [bawling] I DON’T WANT TO KILL YOU!!!!

So Lady Violet barges in and does the job for him.

VIOLET: We buried him under Beryl’s name. No one could know he had died. We were Lord Violet now. 

They have to wear a disguise, an awkward two-person suit that looks like Lord Violet from a distance. 

VIOLET: And we switched our sides and fought for the Iron Tsar. With his terrible cross-eyed vision, we could fool him easily. We thought…

The Iron Tsar can still spot a crucial detail, something they couldn’t incorporate into the disguise.

LOGICO: Lord Violet had one functioning eye… and it glowed red!

The pigeon shoots down the impostor. Lady Violet can escape. But Beryl, in front, is mortally wounded. When Major Red arrives, he can tear through him with the greatest of ease - because the costume, and Beryl’s body, are both made of fabric.

LOGICO: You… You are a horrible, horrible person… VIOLET: I KNOW. But THAT’S the answer you’ve all been waiting for. I did it! I killed my own father! 

She falls to her knees and completely breaks down.

VIOLET: I killed… my own father…

And so, as it turns out, Lady Violet was the dark secret of the Violet Isles.

Irratino probably knew the whole time.

The end! 

We love you beryl

And no one ever knew how Lady Violet became Lord Violet's daughter

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[neptoons1998]

Stay with me Tonight

Summary: Margo needs a night to rest.

TW: Panic attack and Parents yelling at each other

A/N: Here's the first one. I might post the rest tomorrow.

Tag Gang: @mal-urameshi @somethingcleaverandwhitty @pantherheart

Margo couldn’t handle it. She was at her breaking point. Her parents were having another screaming match again. Normally she could tune it out whether that was playing her video games or helping lead the going home machine at the Spider Society.  She knew her home life wasn’t perfect. She would get sad looks from Jess, Gwen, and strangely enough Miguel. Even though his rough exterior he was soft and gooey to her. Especially when she lingers around the hive, praying that he wouldn’t ask why she doesn’t go home.   

But She couldn’t tonight. 

“THAT’S IT I’M DONE!” her mom screamed. Margo heard a vase breaking on the nearby wall.

“THE HELL YOU ARE!” her father’s voice boomed in the house. Margo could hear a shuffle between the pair. Margo’s chest tightens from the aggression between her parents. Margo felt dizzy as she reached for her watch. She needs to get out of here Margo thought as she pushed her button. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was going 42 universe.

 Margo lay in a fetal position the sharp raindrops touched her cheeks as she tried to calm herself. Get a grip, Margo! She thought as her chest continued to tighten.  A couple of minutes pass and Margo could breathe again. She looked around at the buildings that surround her. Where was she?

“Why are you here?” Miles said. Normally she could handle his rough around the edges. Right now she was barely holding herself together. She could feel the tears slowly starting to form and wanting to spill over her cheeks. Margo wanted to refuse them, she couldn’t look like a crybaby to the guy she liked. 

“Nevermind, I’m going home,“ Margo said simply quickly turning away from him. Before she could get too far away from him. Miles wrapped his hand around her wrist Margo turn to look at him.

“T-that came out wrong,” Miles groan to himself, “What I meant was-arg Let me do your hair.”

“My hair?” Margo repeated letting Miles lead the pair off the roof. Margo looked around skyscrapers reminding her of her own whenever she venture out of her room. 

 Miles nodded, “Yea, you look stressed, Cielito.”

“Okay,” Margo said. If anything she would’ve agreed to it anyway. She didn’t want to go home, at least for right now. 

I have a girl in my room, Miles thought. The teen tried to look unfazed by Margo looking around his room. She stood nearby some of the collectible figures he bought when he went to Comic-Con with his dad, before everything his life changed.  Miles inwardly screamed to himself why was he such a nerd. 

“Nice stuff,” Margo stated as she pointed at the miniature Gundam figure that was placed on his bookshelf.  Miles pulled out his combs and gel, he was trying to use his extra energy to place his products on his desk.  

“Thanks,” Miles said stiffly as he patted on the chair. Margo sat down in the chair, Margo could feel Miles’ fingers undoing her two flat twists. Margo couldn’t help but lend into Miles’ hands as he gently massage her scalp. 

“Are you ready to tell me why are you here?” Miles whispered out to her. Margo felt the slight tug of the comb.

“Parents were fighting again,” Margo said sheepishly, “I wanted to be out. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going until now.”

“No wonder why you had a confused look on your face,” Miles commented as Margo felt the edge of the comb parting her hair. The pair were silent for a while as Miles was consumed with his work. Margo was enjoying that someone else was doing her hair instead of it herself. 

“I’m glad I came to your universe,” Margo commented as she felt a smile tugging on her lips. Miles looked at her, and before she could figure out his emotion he pushed a mirror in her face, “Here what do you think?”

Margo gave a surprised  gasped, “This is great. I love it.”

“Stop lying,” Miles said rolling his eyes. Margo pulled up from the mirror as she touched his arm; causing the teen to feel butterflies in his stomach.

“No really. I love it,” Margo said earnestly, “Thanks.”

 Miles had to quickly look away from her before he did something stupid, “Yea no problem, Cielito.”

“Hmm,” Margo said contently before she looked at her watch, “I think they finally calm down, so I should probably leave.”

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” Miles replies. Oh my god shut up, me!

“What?” Margo questioned as she lends a bit closer to Miles, “No they would notice that I’m gone for too long. Thanks though.”

With that, she tapped on the watch to make a portal for her to go home. Miles bit his lip before he let words tumble out of his mouth, “If becomes too much again, Margo... You’re safe here.”

Margo could feel tears starting to form again, God when did I become such a crybaby? Before she went to the portal she placed a kiss on Miles’ cheek, “Thanks, Miles.”

When the portal closed, Miles lay on his bed shocked at what had happened in the span of a couple of hours between them, “She kissed me…”

Butterflies in his stomach fluttered once more.