#girl help he's so swishy and cute

[gayathreya]

[slytherinboysappreciation]

Imagine Tom's reaction when reader (male) was dared by Abraxas to wear a skirt for a week (Abraxas knows Tom has been pining for reader since 1st year, he js want to help his homie)

The Skirt - T.R. x male!Reader

A/N: I love this request so much oh my gods 💛 I wrote this in a horny frenzy because this unlocked some sort of sleeper agent side of me that I never knew existed until I read your request

I think this is the most feral Tom Riddle I’ve ever written. I tweaked the request a tiny bit, but I hope you like it. It’s completely unedited with no use of Y/N. I wrote it intending to write more, so that’s why it ends the way it does.

PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU READ THE WARNINGS!!! I tried to tag everything, but let me know if I missed something!

This is 18+, which means NO MINORS!!!!

CW: female oc; Reader dresses as a girl; lots of beauty descriptors for Reader; don’t read if you’re prone to dysphoria/dysmorphia around looking feminine!!!; Tom’s horny thoughts; Tom’s feral thoughts; Tom is absolutely whipped for you; brief graphic description of sexual acts; Tom is a horny boy; probably ooc Tom; this takes place in Tom’s seventh year of school, so him and Reader are both of age

777 words

“Hey, did you hear about Abraxas’ dare?”

Tom looks up from his plate of food, lowering his fork. “No. What dare?”

Aurora Greengrass sits across from him, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “You haven’t heard? He dared a male student to dress as a girl for a week!”

Tom blinks, vaguely surprised. “Abraxas did? Who did he dare?”

“No one knows yet. We only know because—“

“What are you two talking about?”

Abraxas sits next to Tom, dumping his school bag on the floor behind him as he sits down to eat.

Aurora’s excitement seems to dim a bit. “Ah, well… We were just discussing your dare.”

“Ah.” Abraxas smirks. “That. I’m quite excited about it, honestly. It should help some things move along quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

He gives Tom a subtle nudge, like Tom should have any idea of what he’s talking about.

He just gives Abraxas an odd look and goes back to eating his food.

“So,” Aurora leans in. “Who did you dare?”

Abraxas’ smirk only grows. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s coming this way.”

Tom turns to look, and promptly chokes on his bite of food.

It’s you, dressed in a swishy skirt, woman’s stockings, and Mary Janes. You have on red lipstick, a bold and fierce look.

“Hello, Riddle. Malfoy. Greengrass.” You sit casually, adjusting your skirt as if it’s no big deal. As if you aren’t the most gorgeous boy to walk into Tom’s life.

Tom manages to swallow his food and pick his jaw up off the floor. “You— You look—“

Where to even begin?

Tom’s had a crush on you since first year. Ever since you sat next to lonely little him in Potions class and gave him the biggest grin of your life.

He’d been absolutely sold since then. Seven years of being head over heels. Utterly and completely whipped.

Seeing you in such a cute skirt… all prettied up…

He bites his tongue to keep his thoughts—and blood—from rushing to inappropriate places.

You didn’t dress up to be objectified like this. But Merlin did his brain want to do it.

“Cute, right?” You flash your signature grin, the one that always makes Tom’s stomach flutter. Today it’s more like a tornado of butterflies.

Merlin, how is it that you look so pretty? From just a skirt and lipstick!

“Uh-huh.” He mindlessly agrees, far more focused on a tiny smudge of lipstick against your upper lip. He wants to wipe it off. Kiss it off. Make it worse.

His thoughts go downhill too quickly to catch.

That perfect mouth of yours, all red with smudged lipstick, wrapped around his—

“You’re staring, Riddle.” A small frown creases your face. “Are you alright? Do I have something on my—“

“I’m fine!” Tom forces himself into composure, folding his hands in his lap to hide the evidence of his thoughts.

Your gaze flicks down automatically, and a quizzical look crosses your face.

Tom panics a bit. You can’t find out! You’ll be disgusted with him!

“So,” he says, fumbling over his words. “What made you decide to accept the date— DARE! The dare.”

He’s practically sweating, hands clasped tight. For a moment, it seems like you’re going to question him.

Then you shrug. “I dunno. Just felt like it. Abraxas seemed pretty set on me doing it, so I guess I just accepted to humor him. I look pretty good in a skirt, though, huh?”

Tom’s mouth goes dry. Pretty good? You look fantastic. Gorgeous. Mouth-watering.

He wants to kiss along your tantalizingly bare thighs and sink his teeth into the meat of your skin. He wants to mark you up, leaving it absolutely unequivocal as to who you belong to.

More than anything, he wants to see you absolutely wrecked, begging underneath him as he fucks you in the skirt.

“Riddle… Riddle… Tom…?”

“I gotta—“ Tom stands, his breathing heavy. He can’t stand it. You look too good. Too tempting. “I gotta go.”

He can barely find it in him to care that you get an eyeful of his extremely obvious hard-on as he stands up. He needs to get out of here. Now.

He can hear Abraxas’ laughter as he flees. Cheeky shit. He probably set it all up on purpose. Made you wear the skirt, knowing he’d find you irresistible.

And for a whole week?

Tom presses his forehead to the cool wall of the corridor.

There’s no way he’s gonna make it through the week. Especially not with you looking so delectable.

He has to find some way to distract himself. To divert his focus from you.

But how?

[silverynight]

Somewhat random question (that turned into a novel I'm so sorry): what if all the blushing and flustering around girls that Izuku did wasn't because he was attracted to them as everyone who witnessed it had assumed, but rather because he felt an unidentifiable ~weird~ around them and found himself ~looking~ at their features and feeling some kind of longing - but not like longing to touch it's so much deeper and twistier and stranger than that. He doesn't put a lot of thought and care into his wardrobe because he doesn't feel a need or even an ability to frame and flatter his body - feels disconnected from it in a way that only baggy shorts and stupid t shirts and overalls can cover - but he feels such a weird secondhand giddiness whenever the girls in his class show off cute new outfits they're excited about and he can't help but gush with them a bit. When Aoyama said he knew his secret, his first wave of panic was about One For All, but when he realized that wasn't what his sparkly flamboyant classmate meant he felt a quieter prickle of dread deep in his stomach that he couldn't quite name. When Kaminari jokingly suggested he should have put on a skirt and joined the girls in their cheer routine, that same twisty feeling crept up a little higher and made him just a little bit jittery and nauseous - his smile wobbly and his laugh stilted in a way he couldn't explain. When Uraraka suggested he join them for 'girls night' camped out on the common room floor he got flustered and choked up immediately, but wrote it off as being touched and excited about finally having friends and being included. He didn't think about why it felt a little different - still nice but less ground shaking - when Iida and Todoroki suggested they have a 'boys night'. He thought she was making fun of him the first time Mina offered to lend him a dress and his heart sunk so low so fast it winded him - but when she explained that he always looked so frumpy and uncomfortable in suits at formal events and she'd noticed how his eyes sparkled when the girls twirled in their poofy swishy skirts, the twisty nauseous dread came back. He started to sweat and his throat felt suddenly tight when he thanked and refused her, feeling vulnerable and cornered somehow and wanting to flee. But she'd just smiled warmly at him and shrugged and said whatever he wanted was fine - that boys can wear dresses if they want to and even Kirishima sometimes borrows her skirts and says they're super manly. That settles him somewhat, but in a way that feels like he's been deflated and flattened - like he's no longer shaking in his skin or desperate to run away, but he still might be sick. He's not sure why. He feels just a little bit ashamed when he finally concedes and takes one back to his room to try on.

He stares at himself in the mirror on the back of his door for a long time when he finally works up the nerve to put it on. The fabric clings in some places, but it's not uncomfortable. Giving the skirt an experimental twirl gives him inexplicable butterflies. If he angles his shoulders a certain way and clasps his hands together, it ~almost~ looks like he could have... he's not sure why he can't finish the thought or why it brings the sting of tears to his eyes. He takes the dress off and carefully folds it and leaves it on his desk, eyes drawn to it every time he enters his room. It's days later when he finally gives into the itch to try it on again. When he shudders and hugs himself at how nice it feels. When he starts guiltily wearing it to do his homework alone on his bed every evening. Days after that when he finally admits to Mina that he put it on and liked it, promising to return it to her when he next does laundry. She smiles so gently at him and has this odd knowing twinkle in her eye when she tells him to keep it - she needs more room in her closet anyway.

She ends up "lending" him several other skirts and dresses, and he almost always ends up keeping them. Some of them he's pretty certain aren't even hers - he thinks he recognizes one from Uraraka's room, and one looks suspiciously like something Momo made for herself not too long ago. But he doesn't bring it up. He just quietly accepts the slowly growing collection and wears them alone in his room every spare minute he can. He even buys a pack of thigh high socks for himself - though he also bought a gift bag with them because he was unreasonably worried about the bored looking cashier knowing he meant to wear them himself.

He's wearing a pair of the socks and a pleated skirt while he does his homework one evening when he hears Todoroki gently knocking and remembers he'd told his friends he'd study with them after dinner that evening. He jumps up to apologize through the door and change as quickly as he can, but freezes in a panic when Todoroki opens the door. They stare blankly at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time, the taller boy's eyes almost imperceptibly wider than normal, before he clears his throat and asks Izuku if he's coming. Izuku flounders and wrings his hands, stumbling over his words to explain he just needs to change, but Todoroki just shrugs and says no one will mind if he doesn't. He hesitates and feels that familiar twisty feeling before he changes back into shorts and follows his friend downstairs.

It takes a few more weeks - and seeing Kirishima lounging about in a long skirt just like Mina said he did sometimes - before he musters up the courage to wear a dress outside his room. Mina makes quiet, comforting eye contact with him and gives an encouraging nod from across the room. Todoroki raises his eyebrows for just half a second before relaxing into the smallest, most barely there smile - almost like he's proud of Izuku - and turns his attention back to his reading. Uraraka BEAMS at him, jumping up from the couch to bounce on her toes and gush over how cute he looks - it's intimidating and it obviously catches the attention of a few others but it's not teasing, it's exactly the same as she does for Mina and Tsu and Hagakure. It makes him so giddy he's lightheaded and out of breath.

His stomach twists anew when he sees one of the people whose attention was drawn is Kacchan. His eyes are wide and there's no trace of scowl on his face. He's so still he doesn't look like he's even breathing, and as his cheeks start to pinken Izuku's nerves take a momentary backseat to concern. But then Kirishima nudges Kacchan and he blinks several times like he's just waking up, and Izuku feels as if they both start breathing again at the same time. The world starts moving again and Kacchan's scowl is back (though not as deep as before) and Izuku is pulled to one of the couches, and it's ~almost~ like nothing even happened.

He starts wearing dresses and skirts around the dorms more often after that. He even gets comfortable enough to wear one to the movies when the whole class goes out together. The shorts and t shirts in his wardrobe see less and less use. He still blushes madly when he catches himself looking at the girls' bodies, but it feels like an itch he didn't even know he had has finally been scratched and he can finally relax. Until one fateful 'girls night' when Uraraka is painting his nails and they're chatting with face masks on, when Mina responds to something he said with "girl, I know" and it's like an electric shock down his spine. He's got butterflies for some reason. He feels prickly and queasy and like he might cry when someone asks when it's their turn to have their nails done and Uraraka responds "I'm almost done with his" - he can't even identify why, but it's like the itch is back tenfold.

Kacchan starts using his name and it's the best and worst thing - he's so touched his heart might burst with affection at how hard Kacchan is trying, but for reasons he can't begin to fathom the sound of it makes his skin itch. It's a feeling he used to only attribute to his mom saying his name. He used to think it was because of the ~way~ she said it - that if felt like he was being babied. Now he thinks it's something else. The name doesn't feel like ~his~. Not like "Deku" does. He tries to tell Kacchan he doesn't have to force himself, tries to convince him it's not worth the trouble, but Kacchan is insistent and he understands why so he drops it and smiles through the uncomfortable sensation just like he's done for years.

He nearly chokes on his tongue when Mina asks if he wants to try on a bra. He'd just been sitting on her bed while she rifled through her clothes and threw things into a pile on the floor, but he must have been staring at the lacy thing at the edge of the pile and she must have noticed. He stumbles over his words and talks in a circle, but he must be crazy because it barely takes any prodding for him to agree. He pulls down the straps of the dress he's wearing and she helps him with the clasp, and when everything is in place and he steps up to the mirror he's choking back a sob.

That's when it finally clicks. When the full picture comes into sudden, glaring focus. The reason for the looking and the longing and the itching and the queasy butterflies and the ~euphoria~ of wearing a dress with a twirly skirt and FINALLY filling out the chest. She's a girl. She's always been a girl. She's always been waiting and wishing for this.

It takes some time and a lot of encouragement from Mina, but eventually she's ready. She tells the rest of the girls first. Some of them look quietly surprised but accepting. Some of them, like Mina, seem like they already knew and were just waiting for her to say something.

She tells her mom next. There are lots of tears and apologies from both of them, but she feels lighter afterward. Braver.

She's not sure why she's more nervous than ever when she decides to tell Kacchan. They're studying together in her room and she's chewing her thumb, trying to figure out how to bring it up. She's done this already, she should know what to say, but every time she opens her mouth her throat closes up and all the words die on her tongue. Finally, it's Kacchan who brings it up - though he certainly didn't mean to. He calls out that name - Izuku - and she winces. He notices immediately but doesn't say anything. Just creases his brow in that way he does now when he knows he's fucked up but doesn't know how to fix it. She can't help but jump to explain - to soothe. "Um, can you not call me that, actually?"

At first he seems exasperated and defensive, "I told you I'm not forc-"

She cuts him off, "That's not my name." And that shuts him up. He looks surprised and a little confused, so she continues - softer, fingers twiddling with the hem of her dress, shrugging. "That's not me."

He blinks and then seems to really LOOK at her for the first time in a while. He'd stolen glances a lot since she'd started dressing differently, but it was always quick and subtle and almost shy, always from the corner of his eye and always quickly averted. He'd make brief eye contact when they spoke to each other, but he was good at finding reasons to roll his eyes or throw his head with a scoff, or find other busy work to focus on like the homework now forgotten in his lap. Now he LOOKS. Takes in the clear butterfly clip in her hair, the thin liner around her eyes, the shiny paint on her nails, the smooth skin of her legs... the subtle shaping of the bra under her clothes...

He goes pink in the ears and looks down at his lap, shellshocked and unseeing. "Oh," he breathes. It makes her stomach twist uncomfortably. She can't tell what he's thinking and it's making her spiral. She starts gnawing on her thumb again, tearing at the cuticle, but stops when he speaks up again. He's peering up at her from under his hair, shoulders stiff and uncertain. "So... what should I call you?"

She smiles, wobbly and wet. "I don't have a new one yet, but... I like Deku, for now." His head snaps up and his mouth is twisted in a scowl but now it makes her laugh and shrug helplessly. "Feels like me." He scoffs and shakes his head, but it ends in a huff of laughter and they both relax back into studying after that.

He keeps stealing glances in the days after, often in passing or from across the room, but they last longer now and he looks troubled. Deku thinks maybe it's the name, the complicated history and feelings around it creating a weight in the boy's mind, so she tries to settle on a new name but she doesn't want to rush it and nothing fits quite right yet. She sees him hunched over and grumbling to Kirishima when his eyes flick over to her again and then settle back at his own feet, fists clenched and brows furrowed. She feels bad that it's bothering him this much and starts to shuffle closer, slowly so she can come up with something to say on the way over. They don't seem to notice her approach, still quietly talking to each other, and when she gets close enough to hear his grumbled words she freezes in place.

"I thought I had this shit figured out years ago. I thought I was fucking gay. But... I look at her and I still..."

Still? Still what?

Thanks for sharing! It was really cute!

[toomuchracket]

Thinking of any girl dad matty at a baba’s first dance recital… baby girl in a little pink tutu being excited/nervous to preform for everyone and now I’m crying

i could write a whole fic about amy being a total diva about her first dance show but actually i wanna switch universes and talk about the sweetest tmr baby of them all, miss phoebe. all your girls dance from the time they're tiny, because it's both a good way to make friends and also teaches them a lot about coordination and bodily awareness and discipline and teamwork, but your youngest is the one who enjoys it most of all - every week, she loves putting on her swishy little practice dress and her ballet shoes and going to class, eagerly showing you and matty and her sisters what she's learned that week to great applause from all of you (matty especially. he is such a dance dad. in a wholesome way). she's four when her first recital showcase thing happens, and it's literally all she can talk about for weeks; like, she begs you or matty or denise to let her try her pretty costume on, to put her hair in a little bun and let her wear lipgloss and glitter, and it's really adorable how excited she is. when you get to the theatre on the day of the show, though, she's suddenly shy, clinging to your hand as you walk through the seats to go backstage and looking up at it with complete trepidation, and even when you're in the dressing room with her getting her ready she's a lot quieter than usual - mind you, she makes it through the dress rehearsal of her dance just fine, albeit slightly reserved in her performance, but she just RUNS and clings to you once it's done like "that was scary, mummy". while you console her like "you were so brave for even doing that, munchkin! you'll be alright for the show, though, yeah? to show your dance to daddy and dyl and lena and nana and everyone?", which she says she will be, you text matty to tell him phoebe had a little bit of stage fright, and he replies like "oh 🥺 i'll talk to her". and he does, when he picks you both up to grab some dinner before the show - he takes her hand and walks a bit ahead of you with her, and says "a little birdy told me you were feeling a little bit nervous, darling. s'that true?", and she nods, and matty crouches to be level with her and says "you know what? it's normal, munchkin, i get like that when i go onstage too. but you know what helps me?", and phoebe's like "what?", and he smiles like "the fact i've got my friends there. uncle ross and uncle adam are beside me, uncle george and uncle jamie are there when i turn around, and there's always friends cheering me on in the crowd. and you have that too! you've got lucy and paloma and kira dancing with you, and me and mummy and everyone in the crowd - just think that you're having fun with your friends like you do in class, and you'll be fine, alright? now, c'mere, my brave girl, give me a cuddle". phoebe perks up a bit after that, and the show goes so well!! she's so cute in her little outfit, jumping and spinning so happily that both you and matty have a little sniffle about your baby growing up; she looks so like him when she smiles like that, too, and you love it. anyway, after the show she comes tearing out to hug all of you, curls escaping the bun lol, and proudly carries the flowers matty gives her all the way home while he carries her and tells her how proud he is of her. sweet girl <3

[malewifesband]

Kabrus relationship to masculinity too is a foil to Laios'

he cant access it the way he wants because of the way it makes him seem to be a threat, and he actively tamps down his masculinity. he wants in and cant get in bc being masculine means Being A Threat. he is a kind, compassionate, and real sweetie kind of person, and he is also masculine, but he cannot thread that needle for others. when he is allowed to just be himself, he takes up a lot of space, walks with a determined swagger, uses ore as a personal pronoun and he is caring and kind and goes out of his way to help others (i love him so much.)

laios tries hard to fit into masculine institutions and finds herself rejected constantly bc she cannot perform it--with a heavy implication that its an unwillingness to commit violence that bars her from being A Real Man. we see her threatened with violence by men (the panel with laios being held up by a bigger man with falin rushing in with a mace and kabru watching sticks with, as does the panel with the winged lion showing laios her worst trauma) but only retaliating against toshiro (and i must say. that fight was sooooooooo fucking grade school babies tousling) and even then when she initiates that fight its with an open palmed slap after already having conceded and conceded with a sword to her throat. when left to her own devices she walks swishy and giggles and projects the body language of an excited teenage girl (its. so cute) and is also loud and abrasive and takes up space.

[yourtouchismidas]

How is Taylor with the other girls (Shay valentine and the twins)

so gigi and taylor are already friends, as gigi likes to think. obviously they dont see each other often as taylor is a busy woman, and so is your family, but gigi likes to watch her music videos and award shows and then matty will text taylor telling her gigi loved the new video, or saying congratulations, and taylor will reply. aw thank you sweet girl or ugh what an angel. but it is a while before taylor and gigi meet again, properly, when all the girls are born and old enough to come along to things. the band are nominated for a brit and taylor is performing, and for the first time, all five healy girls will be in the audience.

it might be a stupid fucking idea. the twins are three years old, which is younger than when gigi first attended awards, and there is two of them, but the whole band are there, and their partners, and when matty first floated the idea of bringing all the girls, and you scoffed in his face, the boys convinced you that they would be there to help, that they wouldnt drink until the girls were tucked up in bed, that they could play man to man with the twins, who were always better behaved for george, ross and adam than they were for their own parents. so you all end up round a few tables, each girl with glitter in their hair, nails painted, sparkling dresses. gigi wears dark purple, almost black, shay is in yellow with her hair in an updo curling around her face, valley wears dusty pink, silk, and the twins are dressed in the cutest pale blue dresses covered in daisies. you haul them all down the red carpet, hands holding hands holding hands, matty being stopped by interviewers who coo at whatever twin he is holding (you don't know, you just know they are both still with one of you) and you glance back and around at your girls and the crowds thinking how the hell is this my life.

the girls are spectacularly well behaved. the older three entranced by the stage and the outfits and the music, each with headphones that match their dresses. lexie plays quietly on george's lap, him wiggling her arms to dance to the songs. stevie, who were most worried about, is passed out on matty's shoulder almost the whole time.

when taylor comes out to perform, the older girls scream. taylor catches sight of gigi and waves to her, and then her eyes dance through all the girls who she has only seen on instagram before, singing the lyrics as if just to them. so cute she mouthes at you and matty before jumping right back into the next verse.

the band don't win, which you're secretly thankful for, because you dont know what you'd have done with all the girls had the boys had to go up on stage. matty has won many awards and you know he doesn't mind, especially because the winner is a newcomer who he's helped mentor.

after the awards have finished, taylor comes out into the audience, in something less swishy and dramatic than what she was wearing for her performance. she comes over to the band's table, scanning the girls again and grinning, before pulling matty into a hug.

"you've got a little army of them. i love it. i love it!" she says, as gigi sidles up to her, still shy of "princess taylor", even though in the comfort of her own house she calls her "my best friend."

"hello gorgeous girl," taylor says, and scoops gigi into her arms where she wraps her legs around her waist and rests her head on her shoulder. matty strokes gigi's curls from behind.

"why you acting shy, gi?" he says to her and she mumbles, "stop it matty," into taylor's shoulder.

shay barrels into taylor's legs as soon as she puts gigi down and squeezes her, making taylor laugh.

"oh why are you so precious, come here, let me look at you," she says, and scoops shay up too.

"this is my dreamer," matty says, "and this is my genius," he says, pulling valley out of the crowd and setting her in front of taylor. valley waves to her casually, unaffected by celebrity.

"this is valentine, right?" taylor asks. matty nods. "that's a beautiful name," she says to the girl. "maybe i should write a song about you?"

"no me! me!" shay says.

"about both of you. all of you!"

"how do you do that thing where you disappear in the smoke?" valley asks.

"magic!" shay says, looking to taylor expectantly to confirm her theory.

"obviously magic," taylor says, laughing, and then winking at valley. later, when no one else can hear them, she explains to valley the mechanics of it, but before that, she twirls shay round a few times, dancing with her, and then with all three of the big girls. when she talks to the other boys, stevie, awake now, reaches out her arms to her to be held, and then so does lexie, so she ends up with both in her arms, twirling their fingers around in her hair.

a few days later, the doorbell rings. it's a delivery. five packages. five princess dresses. all different. all specially chosen. shay's has fairy wings. valley's has green vines creeping up the sleeves. gigi's has stars and moons in sparkles. the twins have poufy lace skirts. she has signed them all. love aunty taylor x

[ivy-fawley]

→  diagon  alley  is  home  to  many  ,  a  direct  connection  to  the  wizarding  world  ,  right  in  the  centre  of  london  ,  many  people  like IVERSON "IVY" FAWLEY  ,  spend  majority  of    her   time  in  the  busy  alley  ,  people  know  her  as  the  TWENTY THREE year  old  who  is  a  HUFFLEPUFF  graduate  ,  now  working   in  family services ,  i  think  the  role  suits  them  perfectly  as  i  think  they  are  VIVACIOUS  but  also  they  can  be  TENACIOUS  ,  but  that's  just  my  opinion  .  || playlist ||

→ NAME: iverson “ivy” adelyn fawley → NICKNAMES: ivy, ives, glitter girl, glitter demon, that bitch with the glitter → AGE / D.O.B.: 23 / 7 january  → SPECIES: pureblood witch  → GENDER / PRONOUNS: cisfemale / she&her  → SEXUALITY: lesbian  → RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single as hell (and cute as a button)

FAMILY  → PARENTS: Francis & Delilah Fawley → SIBLINGS: ? → COUSINS:  ? → PETS: clyde, long-eared owl she brought home 6th year because ‘he’s got the cutest little hoot, listen, listen’ ‘hooo’ ‘😍‘

LIFESTYLE  → BORN: edinburgh, scotland  → RAISED: grassmarket, edinburgh, scotland   → CURRENT RESIDENCE: hogsmeade, scotland  → NATIONALITY: scottish  → SPOKEN LANGUAGES: english and jock (not a real language, but try telling her that)  → OCCUPATION: family services - ministry of magic (like wizard cps)  → DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS: occasionally, occasionally, occasionally → RELIGION: god is a woman and heaven is whatever you want to be 

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES → FACE CLAIM: alexxis lemire  → HEIGHT: 5ft. 4 in.  → WEIGHT: 110 lbs  → BUILD: petite, lightly toned muscles  → HAIR: long, brown, usually curled, falls past her (natural) waist  → EYE COLOR: brown  → DOMINANT HAND: right  → SCENT: sweet pea and peonie  → NERVOUS HABITS: paces, crosses and uncrosses her legs, start stops a thousand sentences, tears up, chews the ends of her hair

CHARACTER  → MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good  → MBTI: enfp  → WESTERN ZODIAC: capricorn (that’s the goat mermaid alek, like reg)  → SONG: belter - gerry cinnamon

MAGIC  → WAND: blue spruce, phoenix feather, 10 ¼", swishy  → PATRONUS: st bernard  → BOGGART:  la la la I can’t hear you

BIO

ivy is a sweetheart or a menace

it really depends on who you ask

and how that person feels abut glitter

also ... how you feel about glitter

because girl has ALWAYS got at least a thin dusting of glitter on her person at all times.

ivy is a real go-getter, and one of those people who always seems to be busy

she takes on 2345678 tasks per week - some paid, some not - and between work, volunteering, and having a social life, its a wonder she’s still alive to live her life at all

she is always ready with a kind heart and open ears and sofa

and she loves to bake - just LOOKING at her is enough to make her want to, but the look in your eyes will tell her if you need sad sweets or happy treats.

was and is still incredibly obsessed with Quidditch, and did want to go pro, however Ivy was of the opinion that she couldn’t do enough to help people from a broom, and that she’d always feel guilty

she found her way into an abhorrently understaffed department, and likes to think that she’s making a difference in kids’ lives, and for their families.

The Fawleys are old, and they have plenty of money, but luckily are not consequential enough these days to warrant as much scrutiny (at home or in public) as so many of Ivy’s peers, and therefore she has been freer than some, to make mistakes and live her life loudly

and colorfully

And i do mean colorfully because she bedazzles and glitters everything she can

Ivy is NEUTRAL and wants absolutely fucking nothing to do with either "side" of the war. She loves people on both and if she pretends hard enough maybe the war will just be over

Ivy and Ivy have matching poison ivy tattoos (Iverson’s is on her left arm, Ivette's on her right) and absolutely come as a set, including but not limited to sitting together in classes, and holding hands and carrying pancakes together

SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL GIRL GANG - Pandora, Doris, Alie, Lily, Mary, Ivy, and Ivy are adorable and precious and unstoppable and you will not convince any of them otherwise

the ivy league is 100000000% a collection of ivys and they are unstoppable 

 to be an ivy, you need to: be an ivy, be ivy adjacent, or ask

Ithere will be more at some point there always is

[ushijimas-koibito]

sick days with toshi; pt.1

tuesday - september 1, 2020

listening: i’m in love with you, sorry by j’san; you’re cute by tomppabeats; feelings are fatal by mxmtoon; bloom later by jesse; be your man by rhys lewis; first date by frad 

-the one where toshi gets sick and you take care of him-

warnings: light cursing, nudity, suggestive content, kissing, cute fluff

“please, (y/n),” tendo pleads on the phone, “i would stay and take care of him but he’s making me leave for practice!” you sigh, “he’s ‘making’ you,” you say suspiciously. “look, I know you don’t know him that well, but.. PLEASE (y/n)!” tendo wasn’t really one to seriously beg so you comply. 

you look up at the clocktower, it’s getting late in the afternoon; it won’t take that long to walk from the gym to ushijima’s dorm. you pop in your ear phones and jog across campus. you had your gym bag and a change of clothes with you already so it wasn’t totally inconveniencing. as you were running up, tendo was running out of the building adjusting the back of his sneaker. “you’re a lifesaver, (y/n), honestly,” you smirk and take the key he holds out to you, “i’ll be back right after, ‘kay?!” and then he’s off again, jogging towards the gym. you walk up to tall dorm building and catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the glass doors- windblown hairs framing your face after loosening from your ponytail, running jacket half hanging off and slipping off your exposed shoulder, tight spandex shorts, dirty sneakers, skin glistening with sweat- a mess. you scan the key card and make your way upstairs noticing the many glances you’re receiving as you remember that this is a boys dorm and you are very much out of place. you smile at some freshmen jogging down the stairs who slam themselves into the wall to make room for you as their jaws hang open; either these boys are easily impressed, or you don’t look as bad as you thought. you reach the top floor and look for ushijima’s name and room number. you find the door and knock, no sound, no answer. wow, he must be really unwell, you think to yourself and you unlock the door. 

you walk in and notice the very tidy and minimalist room with sparse decorations, save a few polaroids and postcards on the fridge, a shiratorizawa throw blanket on the back of the couch, and fresh flowers in a few simple vases. this felt bizarrely intimate, to enter the private space of someone so reserved that you didn’t really know outside of a handful of interactions. you set your stuff in the entryway and slipped your shoes off. you looked in the corner of your bag for your slides, hm, must have left them in the gym, you thought. you see a spare pair of slippers on the small shoe shelf and slide them on. they swallow your entire foot and look more like skis than slippers. you slide them back off and take your running jacket off and hang it on the coat rack. the dorm, which looks more like an apartment, is dark- the curtains drawn and most of the lights off except the faint glow of the on button of the humidifier you can see in the bedroom. a soft hazy mist hangs in the air smelling of lavender and eucalyptus. the place is freezing but it was sort of refreshing mixing with the smell of mist and the subtle deeper woodsy smell that clung to everything in the dorm. 

you hear a husky cough come from the massive mound of duvets in the bed followed by a deep groan. ushijima, every time you have seen him he’s either been in peak performance or out training; you would never have imagined you’d see him sick, let alone be the one to take care of him. he rolls over toward the door and looks at you. after a moment of silence, you say jokingly, “tendo told me you were sick, not dying.” he chuckles softly and you know he must be really, really sick. “thank you for coming here, (y/n),” he croaks, his voice somehow an octave deeper, “but it’s unnecessary. I am sorry Tendo wasted your time.” his eyes are barely open but you can see they are heavy and glassy. his cheeks and nose are tipped with a rosy flush and the fringe of his hair is stuck to his forehead. you walk further into the room and lean a knee on the side of the bed to reach over and feel his forehead, he shivers. his skin is blazing hot and clammy. he looks up at you and his flush deepens. “you’re burning up, ushijima.” he coughs and takes a deep breath, “wakatoshi,” you stop, your hand hovering above his head, “you’re taking time out of your life to help me, you can call me by my first name.” you smile softly as the pink flush floods to his ears and his eyes drop down to his covers. you study him a moment and then look down at your posture and what you’re wearing. He must feel uncomfortable having some girl he doesn’t really know in nothing but a sports bra and spandex shorts crawl on top of him. you immediately stand up, “i’ll get you a cold compress and some medicine.” you half laugh uncomfortably and cross your arms over your bare torso as you exit the room. 

shit, i’ve made him feel uncomfortable. you go over to your bag to get your t-shirt, however, your bag is empty. you smack your forehead, must’ve been when tendo called and i couldn’t find my phone. you left the gym in a rush earlier and must’ve forgot to put your clothes back in your bag. you didn’t want to put your running jacket back on because it was loud and swishy and one of those thermal sweat-inducing ones. crap.

 you went into the kitchen to get a cold compress from the fridge and rummaged through the cabinets to find medicine. this guy has a well stocked kitchen. his fridge and counters were full of fresh vegetables, cabinets full of organic grains and supplements, not a morsel of junk food in sight. you found some medicine and headed back towards his bedroom. you considered wrapping the blanket from the couch around you but you didn’t want to get it sweaty. with a sigh you headed back in. “is it alright if I sit here?” you nodded to the spot on the bed next to him and he sheepishly nodded his head. you sat down and cracked open the electrolyte drink and emptied the pills into your hand, “here,” you said as you reached out towards him. he looked up at you still as stone from the edge of his blankets, “no.” he said simply. “what?” you said in suprise. it couldn’t possibly be that the captain ace was actually a giant baby, “c’mon ushi-wakatoshi, you won’t get better if you don’t.” he shook his head again and pulled the covers over his nose, “no, it’s indecent.” you stared at him a moment and then looked down, “look, I couldn’t find my shirt-“ he cuts you off, “no,” he pauses and nods underneath the covers, “I’m indecent.” realization dawns on you, “oh..” he’s not a baby, he’s a gentleman. 

 you lean over him to put the drink on the bedside table and you feel him stiffen, “uh… well.. it’s alright wakatoshi,” you look around for something to cover yourself with and in frustration of not finding anything, you sputter, “you’ve seen me without a shirt and i’m not even sick,” you laugh half embarrassed, “at least you have an excuse.” he finally looks at you after a moment, “are you sure I wouldn’t make you uncomfortable?” you laugh, “you act like I haven’t seen a man before, it’s just a torso, wakatoshi.” ‘it’s just a torso..?’ really, (y/n). he considers this for a moment, “alright,” he releases the covers and tries to prop himself up. he can hardly lift himself, which is shocking, so you reach out to help him, “no!” he exclaims as he slams back down on the pillow wincing. he looks up at you sheepishly, “seeing me is one thing.. touching is another. i can do it myself.” he obstinately tries again and slams back into the wall hitting his head a bit and coughing, “if you keep trying to do this on your own, you’ll get a concussion, please let me help.” with a sniffle he agrees lifting his arm and exposing the chiseled muscles of his chest and obliques. you tuck yourself under his arm and help him to a sitting position. his skin is burning up and surprisingly soft and smooth. you can feel his shoulders flex as you help him get situated. you knew he was large but you didn’t really understand until you realized your arm could barely reach across his shoulders and you could barely lift him. 

as you were pulling away, he turned his face and suddenly you were nose to nose with him, “thank you, (y/n).” you pulled back and stood up, flustered, “sure, of  course, you’d do the same for me, right?” he nodded. “i would.” he said softly, before popping the pills in his mouth and taking a long swig of the drink. “should you ever need me to, please reach out and i will be there.” he looks in your eyes a long moment and then his gaze drops, taking in the rest of you. suddenly, as if he caught himself, he turned his head and downed the rest of the drink, “uh.. where is that c-cold compress?” he stutters. the flush returning to his cheeks and ears and down his neck. “here,” you said practically throwing it at him and looking at your hands. he was beautiful, even sick as a dog, he was stunning and you had just had his bare torso against yours, had him wrapped in your arms. “i-i’m going to make you something to eat, please call out if you need something.” with a swift bow you left the room and headed to the kitchen. you flipped on the light and gathered your thoughts; you caught a glimpse of yourself in the microwave. a mess, you thought and took your hair down, you flipped your hair over and back and gathered it up to put it in a neater ponytail, at that moment you look up and catch him staring at you from the bed, he pulls the compress over his eyes and sinks lower into the covers. he must be sick if he’s looking at me that way. he’s way out of my league, you think to yourself a moment and shake it off, it’s just his fever, he doesn’t like you like that. 

as you rummage around the well stocked kitchen, you begin to make a nutritious vegetable stew. the aroma fills the kitchen and you are in your element. you love to cook and it is so nice to be in a decent kitchen. you looked up from your work and study the room. your dorm was nothing like this but you were also not a volleyball god. some guys have all the luck, you peek into the room seeing he has fallen asleep upright clutching the compress and the empty drink bottle. he was sort of cute in an uncomplicated and tender sort of way. the soup bubbles and catches your attention and you turn around to check on it. it’s turned a beautiful color and the ingredients are melding harmoniously. you smile to yourself knowing this soup will be healthy and comforting. 

you tidy up and turn on one of the small living room lamps as it’s now dark outside. you check your phone and see a text from tendo, practice taking longer than expected! meeting and study group after! thanks for sticking by waka! he had to be kidding. you couldn’t possibly stay all night! you don’t think ushijima would be too happy with the idea of a stinky girl in his dorm overnight. you sigh and text tendo back, i have no clothes you insane person! i can’t just stay here all night! you put your phone down to preserve battery with a shiver and decide to make some tea to warm up while the soup finishes up. you turn on the kettle and decide to go check on ushijima. you walk into the room quietly and rub the tops of your arms to warm up. you walk over and sit gently on the bed, prying the bottle and compress from his strong hands. he releases fairly easily at the touch of your fingertips. you reach up to feel his forehead and he opens his eyes. he smiles sleepily at you and sort of leans into your hand, “something smells wonderful,” he says in a groggy voice. his temperature seems to have come down and his skin is a more reasonable temperature. his hand reaches up and clasps yours and his brows furrow, “you’re freezing.” as if on cue you shiver and goosebumps creep up your arms, “i’m fine, ushijima,” you try to pull your hand away but he holds it still. “i would feel terrible if you fell ill taking care of me.” he tries to move to get up but he is still very weak. he points to a dresser, “in that bottom drawer there are t-shirts and an unworn pack of boxers that were too small for me, please help yourself to anything you find in there as well as my shower.” you turn to protest but he holds up a sovereign hand, “please do this before i run a bath for you myself.” you purse your lips, “go.” he says and points to the bathroom, “i’ll tend to dinner in a moment, go. shower.” you hold up your hands in defeat and gather a shirt and boxers from the drawer before heading to the bathroom. you look over your shoulder to check on him and he is standing, wearing nothing but his boxers and looks at you. he waves you on and you enter with a huff. 

the bathroom is small and clean with plain fixtures and a few tropical plants. as you turn on the shower you notice the water pressure is way nicer than your dorm, i should shower here more often, you laugh at the thought. what were you thinking? this is insane. you are about to be naked in ushijima wakatoshi’s bathroom. what even is my life? you think as you disrobe and step into the warm water. the few products are very nice and organized; you take extra care to return them to their specific spots. of course his hair products are designer, you think as you work the conditioner into your hair. you suds up the soap between your fingers and a familiar scent catches your attention, that’s it, that’s him. you inhale deeply, nearly taking suds up your nose. the scent is intoxicating. it’s a combination of cedar, tobacco, and a hint of black currant. you’ve never smelled anything like it and you don’t care to smell anything else. 

you finish up your shower and dry off. you slip on the shirt and boxers and they swallow you up. you push up the sleeves on the long-sleeved shirt you grabbed and see that it’s his volleyball shirt from nationals last year. you gather your things and head out. you can hear the quiet cheering of a volleyball game coming from the low volume tv in the living room. ushijima has set up the living room table with placemats, napkins, and silverware. in the center is a fresh loaf of crusty bread, a few candles, and a small vase of flowers. “i’m sorry i don’t have a proper dining area,” he calls over his shoulder, “but it’s the least I could do for someone who’s made a homemade stew.” you see him smile and ladle the stew into a couple bowls. he sets the bowls on the counter and turns around to face you. his breath catches and the flush rushes back into his cheeks, “how was your shower?” he says clearing his throat and washing his hands in the sink. “it was nice, thank you,” you gesture down your body and all around, “for everything.” he laughs softly and gathers the bowls, stopping in front of you, “it’s nothing, thank you for nursing me back to health.” he lingers a moment looking down at you sentimentally, he scans over your body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, “oh!” he exclaims hurrying over to put the bowls on the placemats, “i almost forgot!” he walks back in the kitchen and grabs two mugs of tea that seem to have two cozies on them? he unwraps them from the mugs to reveal a pair of socks, “i thought you might be cold out of the shower.. and i don’t have a dryer here in the dorm,” he hands the warm socks to you and then goes back to get the tea. “that’s… really nice actually.” you sit down in front of one of the bowls and slip on the socks. “thank you for the meal,’ he says before plunging a piece of bread into the stew and stuffing it into his mouth. he’s an odd balance of primitive hunger and pristine manners; watching him eat is fascinating. 

you sip your tea and cross your legs, turning your attention to the volleyball game on tv. it’s a world match, japan verses finland. you take in this strange domestic bliss with a near stranger and feel at ease. he’s easy to be around and very comforting. you feel safe and at home. you tuck your limbs closer and wrap your hands around your mug. after a moment you feel him moving to drape the shiratorizawa blanket across your shoulder, “that’s a good look,” he says with a smirk, “getting into school spirit, eh, transfer?” you were enjoying this new side of ushijima. “does the god of shiratorizawa approve?” you flicked the corner of the blanket over your shoulder and dramatically fluttered your lashes. you laughed together and tea nearly came out of his nose. he pauses for a moment and reaches his large calloused hand over to delicately tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “i’m glad you came to shiratorizawa, (y/n).” he brushes your cheek with the back of his hand and then reaches once more for his tea as the sound of the first set whistle brings you both back to reality. your phone buzzes and you see a text from tendo, staying over at a friend’s dorm to study. you kids have fun! don’t do anything i wouldn’t do.. or anything i would ;). you watch as your screen goes black and your phone dies. 

“crap,” you say and hop up to go over to your bag, hoping you packed your charger. “everything okay?” you moved so swiftly and urgently, you didn’t notice ushijima stand up with you, “yeah! totally, my phone just died.” ushijima walks over and stands very close to you, “can i see it? i may have a charger that fits.” you nod and hand him your phone. he looks at the charger port and heads back into the bedroom. he fiddles with the chords for a moment before coming back to you with a smile, “fits with mine perfectly,”  he puts his heavy arm across your shoulders, “shall we finish dinner?” your arm naturally sweeps across the small of his back and you both walk back to the couch. you both finish your food and your tea and ultimately the volleyball match. 

the next match that comes on is a replay of an old tournament between some american college teams. with your stomach full and your body finally starting to warm up, you can feel yourself starting to get sleepy. ushijima yawns and drapes his arm over the back of the couch, classic, you thought. “hey, (y/n),” he says almost nervously, “have you heard from tendo?” he looks at his phone, “he should have been here by now.” i knew it, you sighed, he wants me to leave. “yeah, he texted me before my phone died. he’s staying with a friend.” ushijima settled into the couch a bit, “i see,” with his other hand he raked his fingers through his fluffy hair, “hey, (y/n),” he looked down at his lap for a moment, “yes, wakatoshi,” he turned his eyes to you, “do you want to stay with me tonight?” um, what? did I just hear that correctly??? “you’re asking me to stay?” he smiles and nibbles the inside of his cheek a moment, “only if you want to. y’know, in case i relapse in the night.” he scoots a little closer to you. you feel the warmth of his skin radiate from his bare torso. he looks so handsome in the dim light and he seems.. hopeful? “do.. do you want me to, wakatoshi?” he runs his hand through his hair again, “uh, yeah, I would like for you to. i’m enjoying your company, i’d like to be closer to you.” you look down at the small distance still between you. “you do?” you ask in disbelief. “of course, you took care of me. not just anyone would do that.. y’know, i’ve had my eye on you for a while.” this can’t be real. “you ha-have?” he laughs at how stunned you are, “absolutely. i’m pretty lucky that my best friend roped my dream girl into taking care of me.” he shrugs and smiles warmly, “i can’t help but want to take this opportunity to get to know you and get closer to you.” you look down at the gap between you and then back at him, “get as close as you want, wakatoshi.” 

you only think about the words that just came out of your mouth only after it was far too late to change them. “i mean-“ you laugh awkwardly and cover your face with the blanket. you feel a shift and the edges of the blanket being pulled away. wakatoshi’s face is inches away, “only if it’s okay with you.” he smiles and waits a moment looking at your  lips and then back at your eyes. hell yeah it’s okay you think excitedly. you look at his lips and tilt your chin up. he gets closer and brushes your cheek with the back of his hand before deftly tilting your chin and pulling it closer with the crook of his fingers and softly touches your lips with his in what is possibly the most gentle and innocent kiss. his fingers unfurl and his hand cups your face for a moment before his fingers slide down your neck and then into your hair. his other hand curls around your waist. the kisses get deeper and more passionate; you feel yourself placing the weight of your body into his hands. he shifts his body from being above you and pulls you onto his lap. you curl your finger against his chest as your other hand finds its way to his hair. you pull apart for a moment as wakatoshi wraps the blanket around you both and pulls you closer to his body. “(y/n), thank you,” he kisses the tip of your nose, “for being here and for taking such good care of me.” with that sentiment he kisses you deeply and you prepare yourself for a very long and blissful night of taking care of ushijima wakatoshi. 

[rae-g]

Dire Need of a Change: Spring 4 - You Owe Me One

You stare up at the ceiling, not really focusing on anything in particular. Your body resting on the bed beneath you. After letting out a heavy sigh, you finally manage to muster the strength to throw your legs over the side of the bed, and start your day. Shuffling into the kitchen, you open your fridge and remove a half eaten personal pizza. "Nothing says I've got my life together quite like left over frozen pizza..." You throw it into the microwave and start up a pot of coffee. I still don't get it. I thought we were getting along. Whatever. Your mind keeps dragging your thoughts back to Shane as you try very hard to do the exact opposite. Soon the beep beep beep of the microwave breaks your mental war. You retrieve the soggy slices and begin gnawing on them mindlessly as you flip through the channels on your TV.

Eventually you manage to pull yourself out of the chair and start on the day's list of chores. Water the plants, pull some weeds, clear out a few fallen branches, break up a couple small boulders. You are starting to get the hang of this whole "farmer" thing. Though it is much more physically intense than your old office job. You work tirelessly though the day, and before you realize it, the sun began setting. You wiped the sweat and dirt from your brow and headed into your house to tidy up. After scrubbing the layers of dirt from your skin, you throw on your best shirt, and favorite pair of jeans. After finishing your hair you look in the mirror. "Damn, I look good." But why? Why did you decide to get dressed up? You shrugged it off as needing a confidence boost, then headed down to the saloon.

You had just walked through the doors, and you couldn't stop yourself from looking over towards the fire place. There he was, blue jacket and all. Well that's fine, you weren't going to let some sourpuss ruin your night. You stroll over to what you have mentally decided to be "your" seat, and wave the bar-help over. A cute blue hair'd girl took your order and quickly poured you a small screw driver on ice. You sipped it casually, while trying really hard not to glance behind you. However, after your 3rd drink, your will was failing, and you looked. And just in time to see Shane quickly turn away, and take a long swig of his drink, his face slightly pink.

As you finished your drink, Shane walked up to the bar and ordered another beer... and a screw driver. You raised your eyebrow at him, but accepted the drink as he nudged it over to you. "I hate that place. I hate everything about it. It puts me in the worse mood." He said, not really to any one in particular.

"Yeah, Joja tends to have that effect on people." You started sipping on your drink, and could feel your body warming from the drinks.

"What did you do? Before you moved here?" Shane took a seat next to you, but still didn't look directly at you.

"I was customer service at one of the corporate offices. I got to listen to all the people who wanted to complain that they couldn't use their leftover coupons."

Shane let out a very small chuckle. "I've probably sent one or two people your way then."

You downed the rest of your drink and set the empty cup on the counter. "Well, then you owe me another if that's the case."

"Fair enough." Shane waved down the girl and ordered another round. You could feel your head becoming light and swishy, but you didn't mind. Shane was actually holding some semblance for a conversation with you, which was honestly the last thing you expected tonight. Not that you cared or anything. "So what brings you do this dull and boring town anyway? Becoming a farmer is quite a change from working in a call center."

"My life sucks, everything is shit, and I hate people."

Shane clinked your glass with the neck of his beer bottle. "I can drink to that. Still doesn't explain the farming."

"My grandfather left it to me. And farming seems to kind of be an isolated life. Just me and the plants. Maybe a few animals in the future. A couple chickens, maybe a cow or two. We'll see."

"Hmm." Shane simply nodded. You finished your drink, and placed some cash on the bar. But upon trying to stand, you found your legs feeling more like jello than you had realized. You stumbled a bit, catching yourself on the stool. Shane leapt up and grabbed your arm. You took a moment to get used to standing, then slowly made your way to the door. "Hey, are you going to be alright heading home like this? Do you need some help?"

"I'll be fiiine." You waved his hand off of your arm and (tried) to stand up tall. "I've been worse. I'll just take it slow."

Shane let go and put his hands up in defeat. "Well get home safe. I'd hate to hear something happened to my drinking buddy on the way home."

"Yes dad." You took two steps and stumbled onto the ground, your keys falling out of your pocket. Shane started to move towards you, but you waved him off once again, and grabbed your keys as you stood up. "Shoe laces untied. I'm good."

Slowly, and with a few near misses, you managed to find your way back home, and collapse onto your bed.

[idio-cies]

Jatp- Perfect Harmony Dissection

Holy Moly this show has taken me by surprise in the best possible way.

I forgot how good Kenny Ortega is... and omg the dynamics in this show are just *chefs kiss* anyway that’s for another post

All of these songs left an impression with me, but Perfect Harmony just got the cogs working in my brain so I wanted to dissect it because I can’t stop thinking about it.

This will be long but I hope people will bear with me.

I found out that Madison and Charlie wrote this one together for the show, so that’s cool. So, even if this is Julie’s fantasy/daydream, it objectively also has “Luke’s” input as well, considering Madison and Charlie were writing with the characters in mind.

The lead up to this song is Julie realising she is falling for Luke, and has Luke on the brain, so she slips up with calling Nick, Luke yadayada significant to say her crush has changed as well blah blah blah.

I first thought it was strange that they are all in black? They weren’t performing for anyone other than for merit. However Black is of course associated with death, mystery etc, but in this context ,with them being “fancy” it deems them as more elegant than anything. I like using this site for colour reference. Please make of it what you will, but I’m sticking with classy and mysterious with this performance.

Then I noticed how Julie and Nick are the centre of attention, plus Nick and Julie seem to improvise? They aren’t doing as the others are. Whether they are meant to or not. I think this is meant to draw parallels, with Nick sliding on the floor and Luke tumbling, then also the lift, how here it’s short and sweet, yet with Julie and Luke there are two and the second is drawn out and more meaningful etc.

I think she must be dancing normally in reality throughout this, but I’ll come back to that later.

So let’s get into this song.

“Step into my world”- I find this interesting because Luke is the one stepping over into hers, but also this is like some “in-between” that they're in;  significant of the Limbo that the guys are currently stuck in and also the fact that Julie is the bridge. The world is probably metaphorical for music as Luke helps re-establish it in Julie and is also the guy where music is his whole world, as he lets all of his emotions out and connects with people. It’s a running theme being called up again. However, you cannot deny the possible connotation of Julie potentially stepping over with them. It’s also ironic as Luke “steps” into Julie’s world “I’m sorry we came into your life” - Luke, ep 1, and literally steps over here.

“Bittersweet love story about a girl”- undeniable. Their story is bittersweet. Impossible to be together; yet have a connection that runs so deep.

But now we see the scenery, and it’s all monochrome and the candles just scream romance, but also to me, of serenity.

I mean even the dancefloor reflects to make it look as if they are dancing on water or in an in between world. The reason why I point out monochrome gives the intention of “black and white” there is a lack of complexity, it is clear about how true their bond is, and to them it isn’t complex. Also I can’t help but think of yin and yang which can also be included here as they balance each other out. Julie yin, Luke yang. This is ironic considering Julie is always symbolised with light and Luke the contrast with a dark and being, you know, dead.

I also came across a gifset of the parallels to dirty dancing that Perfect Harmony dance had, and again, the colours are flipped with the pair which is just... interesting in this instance.

“Shook me to the core  “Voice like an angel, never heard before”- pretty simple, Luke has always been amazed with Julie’s talent, plus a metaphor commonly attached to Julie, being called an angel. He is also calling her unique. Passage of touch.

But then we get the touch. So I think this whole hand passage thing is reflected in the time they tried to hold hands, then the last time and they could then touch. In this instance though it’s like Julie is the one being resurrected. Again, this could be another metaphor of his hand in helping her find her music again, but you cannot overlook the other implications.

So here is where they dance. I am no dance expert, but dance does have it’s own language that I think everyone can interpret, but I will try my best to explain. I also think “harmony” can be a way to express dance partners as well.

“Here in front of me”- I do think this is in reference being able to touch them, but the drawing up to her hands is so interesting because of the eye contact and draw. It’s more intimate.

Then they go into something similar to what the routine is meant to be in reality, but instead they make it like a pulse on the line “they’re shining so much brighter”

I point out a pulse because it’s “living” and it just juxtaposes with who Julie is talking about; the guys.

A twirl and lift on “than I have ever seen”- This is Julie talking about the guys. Ray calls them angels and then at the end of season they literally freaking glow so... (also pronoun change to collective when Julie starts singing)

“Life can be so mean”- ep 8, after Luke told him their demise would be one of three ways, Julie was going to be hurt all over again. Julie and Flynn had an understanding that the world was being cruel when they were discussing it. Also I just feel their dance here is like they are interpreting a rough ride/rollercoaster. They swing arms then tuck and twist.

“But when he goes, I know he doesn’t leave”- Luke will be in her heart, like she found with her Mum. She did let them go, and she understands she will have to do that, but they will live on in her heart.

Also hand over heart, as she “falls” into him and he doesn’t let her fall. That’s just cute.

“The truth is finally breaking through”- either their feelings or just what will be revealed to us. Though they are parted and Luke does the spinning on the ground so I expect a pitfall somewhere along the way (probs Caleb)

But he rolls right back to her

“Two worlds collide when I’m with you”- Well, the fact that they are the living and the dead.. so. Plus in-between. Don’t know how to interpret the dance here, I just like the swishy steps

“A voice is rising so, so high”- how Julie comes out of her shell. Also can’t help but link to the angel motif. Plus, Julie is lifted up, she is the catalyst, she is rising up in fame really. Luke is one of the people who helps her soar as well.

“We come to life, when we’re in perfect harmony”- Julie always being told she looks “alive again” when she’s doing music again.  Music and playing with Julie is what makes Luke and the guys feel alive. I gotta say, Charlie and Madison do exhibit some good harmonising.

The lift that happened is like the improv that Nick and Julie do, but then Luke and Julie here make eye contact as she comes down again, but goes back to similar to the dance she is meant to be doing. Until she reaches up on the line “We say we’re friends”, he also helps lift them up.

“We play pretend”. I mean, they kinda do. Luke tries to pass off his feelings with the guys, but that boy is WHIPPED.

“You’re more to me”- right off the bat, I like it. Arms out and a hug. YES. Also just look at that bliss on her face, bless her.

“We create” well yes they create “the perfect harmony”

The cut off is abrupt as Julie snaps back to reality. Then she looks in the mirror and realises Luke isn’t there and that she must’ve gone insane. This is what gets me. I think this is the moment that she realises that her feelings for Luke are deeper than she realised and I think she truly thought that they may have been dancing together in the end.

Is this just an extremely vivid daydream, because she had one of these when she mentally performed “I got the Music” and she must’ve done something during that time as she took someone’s drumsticks during her little renaissance. So what happened in real life? Did she just dance around a little, humming a bop? I just... I imagine that this is just a very lucid daydream, which is fair enough, relatable, but it just interacts so much with real life rather than actually just being all in her head. I just find it interesting.

The full version has some lines that I also want to point out. In the second verse there are these lines:

”You set me free”- Luke sings this line which can mean that she will set his soul free- she is a part of his “unfinished business”

“You and me together is more than chemistry”- Julie sings this line. We know that chemistry was pointed out by Alex and Reggie to Luke, and I believe Flynn also says about them being an appealing pair when performing. But they are more than chemistry. I mean they do work well together and they care about each other deeply, but I also can’t help but think of the “signs” her mother was giving her, and believing that the guys were sent to her.

“Love me as I am, I’ll hold your music here inside of my hands”- This is sung by both of them. They already do this, but holding their music in each other’s hand is interesting. I guess this is saying about trust and that they will do it together. I also think this relates to being able to finally hold hands. It’s like the saying “Whatever’s mine is yours”. They share pain, they share lyrics, their passion for music etc.

Then in the bridge we have the lines “I feel your rhythm in my heart”- I have a feeling that they are in sync with each other, they can immediately click and tune in with a melody. It’s also ironic as Luke doesn’t have a heart.

“You are my brightest burning star”- Luke sings this line. It makes sense. As I have said previously, Julie is this beacon of light, Luke clearly is in awe of her and inspires him. He also straight up calls her a star in ep 9 as well

“I never knew a love so real”- oh man, the irony. Their connection is pure and true, it’s just so annoying that he’s a ghost

“We’re heaven on earth, melody and words”- again with the metaphor of the middle ground where I suppose Julie sits. I understand the idiom and the bliss that they feel, and the connection they have and share with people. It’s just interesting as at the moment earth is currently Luke and the guys’ afterlife.

Anyway, that has been my dissection of Perfect Harmony. Thanks for reading if you’ve gotten this far 😅

PS. the lack of visual aids is because Tumblr hates me, I apologise

[lifesabe-ch]

game on - john b. (part 3)

request: can u write about being one of kies friends and u come to visit her for a little and u and john b end up rlly liking each other and u hook up at a keg party or something like that ??? thank uuu

summary: you and your parents decide to come to the outer banks for your summer break, visiting your old friend kiara, but things quickly take a turn when you take a liking to one of her friends

pairings: john b. x reader

warnings: nada

a/n: this part is really cute. I honestly don't even think you'd have to read the other two to read this one, but it fits with what’s happening

PART 1, PART 2

You heard someone knock on your front door. Again.

“Mom,” You call from behind your closed door, “Can you get that?”

After a moment of silence, you sigh, wheeling your desk chair over to your door and cracking it open, “Mom?”

Instead of an answer, you only hear another knock, seemingly a little softer than the others.

Groaning, you pull yourself up, jogging down your stairs as you yell, “Don’t worry, I got it.”

Not bothering to check the peephole, or the window, considering whoever this was has already been waiting ages, you pull open your front door to find John B.

“Uh, hey,” he smiles sheepishly at you, almost appearing kind of nervous.

You frown slightly, looking between him and the flowers he was holding, “I… Did I forget something?”

Before he could respond, your mom comes up behind you, smiling, “Sorry honey, I was in the kitchen. Who’s this?”

You merely look between the two of them, watching as he extends the bouquet to your mom, “Hi, ma’am, these are for you. I’m John B. I was actually hoping you’d let me take your daughter on a date.”

And just like that, your mom was smitten. It took her even less time than you to fall for John B.

Smiling widely at her new flowers, she invited him in, practically shoving you out of the way, “Of course you can take her out! Y/N, why aren’t you dressed for your date?”

You scoff lightly, “Because I didn’t know I had a date to get dressed for.”

Pulling him with her to the kitchen, she shooed you upstairs, “Go! Don’t keep the poor boy waiting too long! Now about these flowers...”

Rolling your eyes, you hurried back up the stairs, closing the door to your room behind you. Not only was John B. in your house, he was taking you on a date. Suddenly all the clothes in your closet were too ugly to wear.

After dressing yourself confidently, you walked towards your kitchen, laughter coming from inside. Peaking your head around the doorframe, you noted that your mom had already placed the flowers in a vase with water, and gotten John B. a glass of lemonade.

“Aw, Y/N, you look nice! Come on, give us a little twirl.”

Sighing lightly, you spin around for the two of them, before holding out your hand for John B. to take, “You ready?”

He nods, grabbing your hand as he stands, absentmindedly interlocking his fingers with yours.

Your mother hurriedly follows the two of you as you pull him back towards the front door, phone already in hand, “Wait! Can’t I get a picture before you two go?”

You groan, shoving him out before you, waving at her over your shoulder, “No, mom. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Mrs. Y/L/N! I’ll have your daughter back before 11, like you said!”

Sighing, you closed the door behind you, flashing him a look.

“What?”

“You’re such a kiss ass.”

Laughing lightly, he playfully shoves you, his arms coming to rest around your shoulders, “Shut up. You look gorgeous, by the way.”

“Do I not always?” You tease, shaking your head before continuing. “Thanks. You were no help, barely giving me any time to get ready.”

“You looked perfect even before you went up to get ready.”

Blushing lightly, you roll your eyes at him as he moves to open the door of his mystery-machine-looking van for you. Taking the time to look him over, you notice he was more put together than usual, his swishy shorts being replaced by a pair of khaki ones, his shirt still the short sleeved button down but much less messy and, surprisingly, buttoned up almost fully. He did look good, you had to admit.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” You point out as you hop into the van, noting the cute smile he gives you as he closes the door.

Getting in on the drivers side, he turns the key in the ignition, suddenly seeming a bit nervous again, “Look, I’m sorry if this is weird. I wanted to call you but I realized that I don’t even have your number, and I couldn’t exactly ask Kie, and you pointed out your house to me the day I was giving you a tour so--”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” You shrug, waving him off, “I admit, the flowers for my mom were maybe a little much, but I don’t mind.”

“They were actually for you, she just looked like she wanted them more,” he laughs, pulling back out of the driveway, as he talks.

Buckling your seatbelt, you shake your head, “So the next time you have flowers for me and you see some girl who looks like she wants them more, you’re just gonna give them to her?”

He grins, and it surprises you. You had hoped that’d trip him up even just a little. But nope.

He was smooth as ever, quickly retorting, “Thinking about next time already, huh?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, keeping your eyes on the window as he drives.

As soon as John B. parked the car, he was out and around to open the door for you. But as he tugs on the handle, it doesn’t open.

“Did you lock the doors?”

“No! Why would I—”

Before you can respond, John B. goes back to pulling the handle. This time, he pulls too hard, and the handle comes off in his hand.

You gasp, staring at him through the closed window. He doesn’t say anything, but rather stares at the handle in his hand.

It takes him a few seconds to process what he’s done, before he goes around to open the drivers side door again. You’re already hopping out by the time he gets there, laughing at the handle in his hand.

“Someone got a little bit too excited.”

Placing the handle inside his car, he shook his hand, “Off to a great start. I’ll have to get that fixed.”

He took your hand, pulling you with him down to the beach, where a blanket sat crumpled and sandy.

Atop the blanket sat a seemingly forgotten meal. A tray was balanced on top of a pizza box, both covered in sticky pink liquid. The tray itself held two cones, obviously no longer serving their purpose. You couldn't tell, but by the way the top of the box was caved in, you had a feeling the pizza was ruined too.

“Wow, this looks…” you start, but can’t finish.

“Bad.” He says.

Glancing over at him, the guilt on his face is contagious. You didn’t do this, but you might as well have.

You shake your head, leaning down to grab a can of beer, the only thing seemingly untouched by the melted ice cream, “At least we still have this, right?”

Popping it open, you bring it to your lips to take a sip. Instant regret is felt, the warm liquid filling your mouth as you refused to swallow.

“It’s warm, isn’t it?”

You shake your head, mouth closed.

“You want to spit it out, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you agree, but take one large gulp and it’s in your stomach.

He sighs, he looked around for something, anything, that wasn't ruined. You heard him mumbling to himself as he did so, annoyance clear as day on his features.

“Fucking Pope. Couldn’t even… Goddammit. They give away scholarships for breathing now, apparently.”

Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, you pull him back to you, “Hey.”

As he makes eye contact with you, you flash him a small smile, “Breathe. Okay? This isn’t that bad.”

Pulling the blanket out from under the ruined food, you shake out the sand, holding it up for John B. to see.

“Look? Okay? The blanket’s okay! That’s really all we need. I mean, the food was a nice thought but the blanket’s enough.”  

“What?”

“John B.,” you say, “This is a really nice blanket. I honestly think we’ll be super comfortable.”

“We’re just gonna sit and talk? You don’t want to eat, at all?”

“Well, I didn’t think we were going to be doing any talking.”

“What the hell did you think…” He pauses as he takes in the suggestive look written on your features.

“Oh.”

You nod, “Yeah. Why else would you pick me up?”

That statement alone was enough to offend him, making him scoff lightly, “For a date?”

“You… were serious?”

“Wow. That’s great,” he mumbles, moving to pick up the trash off the sand.

“John B.,” you trail behind him as he tosses it into a nearby garbage can.

“You seriously thought I brought you here just to hook up with you?”

Shrugging sheepishly, you nod, “It’s not like we haven’t before. I thought that's what we were. Fuck buddies?”

“I don’t want to just hook up with you.”

“You want to hook up with other people too? John, you didn’t need to set up a beach dinner to tell me that.”

“No! I’m saying I don’t want to hook up with you,” He yells, his tone more annoyed than he probably meant to be.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you ignore the tears beginning to brim your eyes. You never took yourself as a sensitive person, but here you were.

“Fine,” You said, turning on your heel to walk off in the direction of the parking lot. If he didn’t want to see you, he wouldn’t have to, you decided. You would walk home.

You heard him groan from behind you, running to catch up, “Y/N, where are you going?”

“Look,” you started, turning to face him, “If you didn’t want to hook up with me anymore, you could’ve just said it. You didn’t have to bring me all the way here and—”

John B. cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, arm winding around your waist. You didn’t even close your eyes for the short duration of it, shoving him off you as quickly as possible.

“What’re you doing?!”

Given that your reaction was not the one he had hoped for, he took a tentative step back, “I… kissing you? That always works in the movies...”

You huff, shaking your head, “If we were in a movie, none of this would be happening! You’re literally breaking off whatever the hell we have going on and I feel like an idiot—”

“Can you listen to me? For two seconds?”

“I’m literally talking right now.”

“I know! Shut up! I’m not trying to break up with you. We’re not together. Which is what I brought you here to talk about. I want to be with you. I don’t want to be just some guy you hook up with.”

You were silent as you let his words sink in. If that were true… you had been going off on him for the past minute for absolutely no reason.

A chuckle bubbles out of you, your hand moving to cover your mouth as you start laughing. He starts laughing too, and the two of you don’t stop until you need to breathe.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” You start.

“No, I’m sorry for bringing you on this shitty date.”

You wave him off, not wanting to make him feel worse than he already felt, “Surprisingly, I’ve been on shittier dates.”

He raised his brows in question, “Really?”

“Yep. He brought his brother.”

“Yikes,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

You nodded knowingly, stretching out the blanket for the two of you to sit down on.

As you sat besides him, he lifted his arm, allowing you to lean into his side. The two you stayed silent for a moment, the scene panned out before you. As the sun began to set, the waves crashed gently on the shore.

You laced your fingers with his, sighing gently as you rested your head against his chest.

“You know? I can’t swim,” you say, and he looks at you incredulously.

“Seriously?”

“No, but it was too quiet,” you say smiling. He watches the ocean.

“Tell me something about you. Something no one else knows.”

You think for a minute, letting yourself thoroughly ponder your answer before speaking, “I really love oranges.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he stares down at you, “That’s not something no one else knows!”

“Yes it is!” You defend. “When I was younger, I went around telling everyone that I hated oranges. I used to make it out to be such a big thing. I wouldn’t touch anything with orange in it. Not orange juice, tangerines, sherbet, popsicles, orange chicken. And it stuck. So now I have to eat them in secrecy. Everyone thinks I hate them, even Kie. But I don’t. I really love oranges. Like, a nice juicy seedless orange.”

He laughs lightly at your answer, “I bought the wrong type of dessert then.”

“What’d you buy?”

“The strawberry ice cream from—”

“The store down the road from Kie’s job?” You finish, pulling back from his chest to fully look at him.

He nods slightly, “Yeah.”

“I only mentioned that once—”

“When I was giving you the tour. ‘Oh my god, the strawberry ice cream from there is hands down the best I’ve ever had!’And then you moved and never touched strawberry ice cream again.”

As you watched him, pure adoration shone in your eyes. Maybe the bar was set pretty low, but he remembered something you had mentioned in passing. Something you didn’t even think twice about. But he did. He thought about it and he went and bought it for this little date he had set up for the two of you. Then he went to your house, gave your mom flowers, and drove the two of you here just so he could tell you he wanted to do more than just hookup with you.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling yourself onto his lap as you kissed his lips lightly.

John B. grinned at you, hazel eyes melting yours as you stared into them, “What was that for?”

“That was for giving my mom flowers. So don’t expect one for every date.”

tag list (respond to post or send ask to be added!):

@katherine097​ , @pitaparka​ , @sexualparkour​, @rosenbug​

[rawiswhore]

Scott Hall x Fem Reader- "What's New, Pussycat (Doll)?"

2002 would be one helluva year for the professional wrestling world.

The former World Wrestling Federation now changed its name to World Wrestling Entertainment, all thanks to the World Wildlife Fund also going by the abbreviation WWF.

The World Wildlife Fund has existed since the 1960's, why didn't they fight for the World Wrestling Federation's abbreviations during the 80's and 90's?

Despite that 2 other pro wrestling companies, WCW and ECW, went out of business in 2001, another new wrestling company known as TNA (Total Nonstop Action) has made its debut in 2002, giving the WWE competition.

Speaking of WCW, the NWO, arguably the most iconic wrestling faction of all time, the wrestling faction that would increase WCW's ratings and make the WWF want to climb for ratings again, have now reformed in 2002, however, they were mostly a mere shell of their former selves.

The epitome of a certain NWO member that was a mere shell of his former self was Scott Hall, otherwise known as Razor Ramon when he was in the WWF, who was killing himself with alcohol.

By the end of 2002, Scott Hall left the WWE due to his alcoholism.

You're both happy and sad he's leaving the WWE, even though you won't have moments with him in the WWE, you're glad he is getting help, as well as this...

Before the Pussycat Dolls became an oversexualized, best selling girl group, they originally started off as a burlesque act.

A burlesque act that not only brought burlesque back to the 21st Century, but featured female celebrities in this act and had women performing burlesque but not taking their clothes off.

Some female celebrities who have been Pussycat Dolls include Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, Charlize Theron, Carmen Electra, Gwen Stefani, Christina Applegate, there was even a moment in "Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle" where they performed as Pussycat Dolls.

You were a female celebrity who got popular in the World Wrestling Federation, you were even the most popular woman in the WWF during the late 90's, surpassing Sunny, Chyna and Sable, and you had left the WWF in the year 2000.

You made a few guest appearances in the WWF/E from 2000 to 2002, but you were barely in the WWF/E during those years.

Of course, you had to jump on the Pussycat Dolls bandwagon, how could you not?

You even asked a few WWE divas like Stacy Keibler, Trish Stratus and Torrie Wilson if they would like to be Pussycat Dolls, which you're sure they would love to, especially Stacy.

Sable probably wouldn't mind being a Pussycat Doll too.

Scott Hall has always been a ladies' man, even during his Razor Ramon days, and even Razor Ramon's character was a ladies' man too.

He had a crush on you since you were a ringrat, and you've had a few affairs with him.

He knew about the Pussycat Dolls burlesque act, which already gave him a stiffy, but when he heard how you're performing in the Pussycat Dolls burlesque show, he had to see you.

On his birthday at the end of 2002, when he left the WWE, he attended a Pussycat Dolls burlesque show and sat front row, eagerly awaiting you.

Scott sent you an email about how he was attending a PCD show and it was his birthday, that made you so happy, and you had a surprise from him.

As the first few bass notes began playing to Peggy Lee's "Fever", you had strolled down the stage dressed in a black bra and matching swishy micro miniskirt with matching black boots that reached slightly below your knees, your fingers wrapped around a microphone.

When Scott attended this show, he was so tempted into pulling his cock out and masturbating, but he didn't want a Pee Wee Herman situation where he'd get arrested for masturbating in public.

Your eyes found Scott sitting front row in the audience, wearing an NWO shirt so you can probably recognize him.

Deep down inside, you lit up seeing him, but you were trying to contain yourself from getting too overexcited.

You grinned from ear to ear seeing him, your eyes were looking at him.

His eyes were glued to you, even though he wanted to look at some of the other women on stage as well.

As you walked on stage to the bass notes, you moved the microphone you were holding to your lips, and some other sexy, scantily clad women were strutting with you on the stage.

Scott's penis was rising up more and more as you walked towards him, although his jeans interfered his erection.

"Never know how much I love you" you crooned while looking at Scott. "Never knew how much I care"

You were trying to sound and look as sexy as possible whilst you sauntered up to him, you were singing this song to him, a song that describes how you feel about him.

He had a grin on his face as you walked up him, his pants were feeling tighter as you were approaching him.

When you got close enough to him, you put your fingers under his chin and slightly lifted his chin.

"When you put your arms around me" you sang as you looked at him. "I get a fever that's so hard to bear"

Although, you don't have any arms around you right now, and you aren't putting your hand on your forehead and arching your head back like you really do have a fever.

"You give me fever" you expressed, his legs were now in between your legs, where you began to swirl your hips and ass in a 360 degree angle to the song as you lowered your lap to his lap.

"When you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight" you sang as you sat and straddled his lap, although he didn't kiss you or wrap his arms around you.

"Fever!" you chirped "In the morning, fever all through the night"

When you sang the last line, you leaned into the side of his face, smiling and grinning at him.

"You can touch me if you want" you told him "Papi"

That really got him, and he perked up in more ways than one when heard you say it's okay to touch him, even more so that you called him "Papi".

As the bass notes played, you began to roll and gyrate your pelvis forward onto his lap, which made his eyes look down at your lap grinding and rolling up on his lap.

You can feel his erection poking and protruding through his jeans, and he grinned as you gave him this lapdance, biting his lower lip.

Scott might not be as sexy as he was back in the 90's, but he still is pretty damn hot.

How cute was he in NWO in '02 when he had that rag tied on top of his forehead?

You're tempted into grabbing the collar of his shirt and tearing it apart a la Hulk Hogan, so you can run your hands and fingers on his chest and through his chest hair, but nah.

Since you said it was okay to him to touch you, one of his hands was behind your ass, where his fingers gave you a squeeze of one of your ass cheeks.

Some of the backup dancers saw him grab your ass, they could nearly spread ear to ear smiles, although some probably think he's some pervert trying to grab you.

You then tried rotating your body around where now your back was pressing on his torso, lifting one of your legs over both of his legs and turning your body around.

You spread your legs wide open while you sat on his lap, much to his dismay he couldn't see your legs wide open, though you began to roll and grind your ass vertically up his crotch.

"Sun lights up the daytime" you sang, placing one of your hands on the side of his face while your head was turned and looking at him. "Moon lights up the night"

When you sang this, your hand on the side of his face slowly caressed down one of his cheeks (on his face), feeling the fuzzy facial hair on his face as your hand went down.

Your ass didn't just roll up his crotch, but your hips also swayed horizontally back and forth on his genitals, and you also began to sink your body down to the floor lower and lower, your back touching his torso.

"I light up when you call my name" you sang "And y'know I'm gonna treat you right"

You turned your body around and looked at him when you sang "y'know I'm gonna treat you right".

"Y'give me fever" you sang as you began to slowly walk around Scott, putting your hand on his chest and making that hand brush from his chest to his arm, where it turned and swerved to his back.

His eyes were looking at you as you walked around him.

"When you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight" you added, your hand sliding down below his shoulder down his chest.

His eyes looked at that hand sliding down his chest, and he can feel the touch of your hand over his shirt.

"Fever!" you exclaimed, although you didn't try to shout that in his ear. "In the mornin', fever all through the night"

He's been tempting to pull his wallet out and give you a dollar.

To hell with you, you're giving him fever!

He doesn't just want you, he wants some of those other Pussycat Dolls all over him, rolling their ass and crotch on his lap, having their hands all over him.

"Happy birthday" you whispered in his ear, giving him a kiss on the side of his face, which left your lipstick print on the side of his face.

You then slowly walked in front of him, where you bent your lower body down and started shaking your ass horizontally back and forth to the beat.

His eyes were staring at your ass and couldn't keep his eyes off of it.

You chose Peggy Lee's "Fever" to sing to him, because he gives you fever, not literally, but you do lust over him.

Later on after this performance, you sang Happy Birthday to him, and you actually invited him back to a hotel room, where you performed a striptease and lapdance for him and had some birthday sex with him, giving him a taste of your icing as well as his.

You actually have given a few famous professional wrestlers like Shawn Michaels, Triple H, Raven, Christian and Rob Van Dam lapdances and sang to them when you were a Pussycat Doll, you even gave Raven, Christian, Shawn and RVD lapdances for their birthday and sang to them at the PCD burlesque show.

You also asked some famous celebrity women who were Pussycat Dolls as well as just PCD dancers if they ever watch wrestling, and how you were giving these famous wrestlers lapdances.

Some of them want to sing and give lapdances to the Rock, arguably the biggest pro wrestling star of the early 2000's.

John Cena, Batista and Randy Orton were up and coming wrestlers in 2002 that had yet to become famous like they eventually would.

You even did a Pussycat Dolls routine in the WWE in 2002, where you wore lingerie whilst some Pussycat Dolls burlesque dancers danced behind you in the ring while you were singing a song.

In 2003, you were completely back in the WWE again, and you sang some of the songs you sang as a Pussycat Doll on WWE shows to Triple H and Shawn Michaels, as well as dressed as a Pussycat Doll.

_____________________________________________________________

I didn't think of writing this fanfic today considering last week I wrote a fanfic where the fem reader gives a lapdance to Raven, but I typed it anyway since I planned it.

[juliandev0rak]

More Like Sisters

Beatrice, Leila, and Ella pick out their dresses for the yule ball and spend the day together. 

a side fic to the main Hallmark Yule Series written by @leila-of-ravens

characters: Beatrice Viano, Leila Lonan, Lysander Lonan, Lachlan Lonan (of @leila-of-ravens), and Ella Sagen (of @leechobsessed)

oh and Julian Devorak (he’s here too)

words: ~3300 warnings: friends being cute notes: 2/3 of beaellaleila are unlucky in love, the remaining 1/3 wants to put clay on everyone’s faces

Life in the Lonan household is never silent. There’s always someone up making noise, or even just the creak of the walls as the house settles in the night. Though she’s had trouble sleeping with all of the noise and excitement, Beatrice finds that having so many people around has become comforting after a few days. She doesn’t know how she’s going to return to her empty, quiet apartment in Vesuvia when she has to go home.

She sits at the breakfast table across from Leila, stirring a large spoonful of sugar into her tea. Bramble sits on her lap, fast asleep despite the lively chatter of the group. Since Lysander has already left for the University, Beatrice finds herself less apt to socialize. She stares sleepily into her teacup and is thinking of grabbing another of the pastries on the platter in front of her when she notices that Leila has turned to look at her.

“Earl grey again, Beatrice?” Leila gestures to Beatrice’s tea. Beatrice blushes behind her teacup and takes a sip to stall as she thinks of a response. Since she’d met Lysander she’d taken to drinking it, even though she hadn’t loved the taste at first, but now it’s become her favorite simply because it’s his favorite.

Beatrice settles with a polite but vague response, “Yes, I quite like earl grey.” 

Leila simply gives her a knowing look and turns back to her own breakfast. Julian sits to her right, drinking a cup of coffee and leaning back in his chair, looking fully at ease. He raises an eyebrow as he watches Beatrice add yet another spoonful of sugar to her cup.

“You sure put a lot of sugar in your tea,” He laughs, and Leila playfully nudges him with her shoulder.

“Don’t be rude to our guests.”

“It was simply an observation, and I’m a guest too!” Julian protests.

“Not anymore you’re not, we live here.” Leila’s tone is light and affectionate as she leans in to kiss his cheek and Beatrice looks away to give them privacy. 

Her eyes drift to Ella and Lachlan who sit across from each other at the other end of the table, pointedly looking anywhere but at each other, just as they had the morning before. Beatrice has been worried about Ella, she’s seemed withdrawn as of late, and Beatrice has a hunch that the youngest Lonan brother is to blame. 

Ella is in dire need of some cheering up, and luckily today’s the perfect day for that. Since they’ve arrived in Umbra there’s been a packed agenda, but the only thing on the schedule today is an appointment with the tailor. It promises to be a fun experience, and then they’ll have the afternoon to themselves to just spend time with each other, something they haven't had much time for yet.

The tailor arrives shortly after breakfast and as Leila leads Beatrice and Ella down the hall to the room where the tailor has set up, she finds herself feeling a bit nervous. When Lysander had asked her to the ball she’d been overjoyed, but once she’d learned she would have to dance in front of everyone she was less than enthused. Her choice of dress seems important, given how many people will be looking at her. As if sensing her apprehension, Leila reaches out to link her arm with Beatrice’s and the three make their way into the room together. 

Leila goes first. She already has an idea in mind, and the tailor picks out a lacey white material to compliment the design. The color is beautiful, and when she shows them the fabric swatch up close Beatrice notices the lace pattern is made up of tiny white snowflakes. It’s perfect, both for the theme of the yule ball and for a tempestaria like Leila. 

“You’ll look stunning, Leila,” Beatrice says, noting how the color of the dress accentuates Leila’s dark hair and brings out her light eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” Ella smiles at Leila as she twirls in the sample dress in the mirror, testing the swishiness of the skirt. It’s the first genuine smile Beatrice has seen from Ella all day, and she’s determined to see more by the end of it. It’s Ella’s turn to go next, but as she steps up towards the mirror her smile fades.

“Do you have anything in mind?” The tailor asks as she takes Ella’s measurements. 

“No, I hadn’t thought about it.” Ella does her best to keep her tone light and polite but Beatrice can detect a hint of sadness. Though Lachlan and Ella are going to the ball together, clearly they haven’t reconciled.

“Ella, you look very pretty in blue, perhaps we should look at blue fabrics?” Beatrice suggests.

“I agree!” Leila smiles, getting up from her chair to inspect a sample of sparkly blue fabric, “What about something like this?” she holds it up for Ella to look.

“Ooh.” Ella’s smile perks up as she reaches a hand out to feel the fabric, “That’s pretty.” 

“It most certainly is,” The tailor smiles, heading across the room to their inventory of sample dresses. “I would suggest a cut like this.” She holds up a dress with a full skirt and delicate, sheer sleeves.

“You should try it on,” Leila encourages her. “That would be gorgeous on you.” 

She agrees and steps behind the changing screen in the corner of the room. Leila and Beatrice turn to discuss the ball preparations, and despite her fear of public dancing Beatrice finds herself quite excited. If nothing else, she loves to plan, and though there’s not much left to do with the event only a week away, she’s eager to decorate the house tomorrow. 

They’d left the door to the room open a crack, and Beatrice startles as the door squeaks open more widely. She’s puzzled when she sees nobody at the door, but then her gaze is brought to movement at the ground to see it was just Bramble coming in. “Oh, hello Bramble, have you come to get a dress too?” Beatrice picks up her rabbit familiar, carefully placing her on her lap.

The girls are too deep in conversation to notice the youngest Lonan brother who happens to peek inside the door at the exact moment Ella steps out from behind the changing screen. Lachlan takes a surprised step back into the hallway, his eyes stuck on the exposed skin of Ella’s back, the way the dress cinches perfectly around her waist. He pulls his gaze away and hurries down the hall, fleeing the scene before anyone has the chance to notice his presence.

“I couldn’t get the zipper up all the way,” Ella says, oblivious to the drama occurring outside the door. She turns around so the tailor can help her and stands before the mirror with an excited smile. “I love this.” 

“It’ll be even prettier in blue!” Beatrice is glad to see her friend happy. Ella swishes around in the dress like Leila had, looking excited and pleased, and very pretty indeed.

Next is Beatrice’s turn, and she has no idea where to begin. The tailor takes her measurements and she wonders whether she should go for something familiar or something new, something that would take people by surprise, something to take Lysander by surprise. She tries to stop thinking of him as she discusses dress design with the tailor, her mind can’t help but wonder what he might think of her choices. 

When it’s clear Beatrice isn’t going to make a choice any time soon, Leila jumps in, “The colors of the yule ball are white, blue, and gold. If you wear something gold, we can match!” 

It’s a great idea, Beatrice loves to be on theme after all. The tailor holds up a variety of samples but none of the golds are quite right, they’re too bold, too shiny, too yellow. Finally the tailor pulls out a swatch of champagne gold, lighter and almost pink in tone compared to the other fabrics she’s looked at so far.

“Oh, Beatrice, that’s lovely on you,” Ella comments as the tailor holds the fabric up to see how it looks next to Beatrice’s face. 

It brings out the rosiness of her cheeks and the golden undertones in her hair, and she has to agree that it’s a pretty color on her. The fabric decided, they move on to the style of the dress. She wants something with a flowy skirt, but nothing so voluminous she could trip over it. Beatrice is a good dancer, but she’ll take no chances with a train or a full ball gown. 

Once the girls have finalized the details with the tailor and scheduled their fittings for a few days later, they’re left with the rest of the day to themselves. The afternoon passes quickly, spent in front of the fire, playing cards and chatting. The topics are light, mostly focused on the upcoming ball and their plans. Beatrice finds the drawing room warm and the couch comfortable and just when she thinks she might doze off on Leila’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder it’s time for dinner.  

It’s just the three of them, and though Beatrice is glad for more time spent with her friends, she misses Lysander. After dinner Leilla announces that she has a surprise for them and they follow her eagerly up the stairs. But when she leads them into a bathroom, Ella and Beatrice exchange a look of confusion. 

“Why have you brought us to the bathroom?” Ella asks as Leila reaches into her dress pocket and pulls out a vial of what looks to be green dirt.

“I thought we could use a little more pampering.” Leila reaches for a bowl stored in one of the storage cabinets.

“Do you usually carry dirt in your pocket?” Beatrice asks, watching in confusion as Leila tips the vial into the bowl and fills it with a bit of water.

“It’s clay, ” Leila laughs, dipping her finger into the bowl to stir it around. Beatrice peers over her shoulder, not quite sure what she’s expecting to happen. “Beatrice could you put your hair up?” 

“My hair?” She questions, wondering what on earth Leila’s up to. When Leila nods, Beatrice reaches into her pocket for a pencil, quickly winding her hair into a bun around it.

“It’s a clay mask, you put it on your face and wait for it to dry before you wash it off. It’s good for your skin.” Leila continues to stir the mixture until it becomes homogeneous, then she lifts her finger up and reaches towards Beatrice's face.

“How… inventive.” Beatrice struggles to find the proper word, it just looks like green mud to her. But Leila hasn’t steered her wrong yet, so she lets her friend spread the mixture on her face. It’s cold, but in a refreshing way, and she catches a glimpse of her face in the mirror and stifles a laugh at the image of her face turned green. Leila finishes applying the mask and turns to Ella who is busy wrangling her hair into a manageable pile on the top of her head.

“What do we do while it sets?” Ella asks.

“We sit, and drink wine.” Leila starts to apply the mask to Ella, who winces from the cold just as Beatrice had.

“I remember where the wine is, would you like me to go get it?” Beatrice offers, already stepping out into the hall. 

“Sure!” Leila turns to look at her, half of her face green and the other her natural color. 

“Maybe bring more than one bottle,” Ella suggests, peering her head around the doorway to watch Beatrice walk down the stairs. 

Beatrice can feel the clay hardening on her face as she walks, and she thinks if she were to smile it might crack. The image reminds her of the scars she’d seen on Lysander’s hands, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. She’s never dared to ask him about the scars before, they’re peculiar but beautiful in a way, cracked like broken ceramic. She rounds the corner into the kitchen and suddenly comes face to face with the man she’d just been thinking about, busy making a cup of tea.

“Oh, good evening, Beatrice.” Lysander greets her cordially, his lips turning into a confused frown at the sight of her. “What do you have all over your face?” 

“Clay.” She responds, grateful the green mud at least hides her embarrassed blush at being caught looking this way. “It’s supposed to be good for your skin.” 

“It looks strange, but I have heard of the health benefits of clay. You’ll have to apprise me of the results.” He turns back to stirring milk into his tea with absolute focus.

“I’ll be sure to let you know how it worked.” She tries to keep her back turned to him as she grabs two bottles of wine and some glasses from the kitchen. In the few short days of her stay here she’d gotten well acquainted with the layout of the house, she already feels at home here. When she turns to leave she notices Lysander looking at her again and she quickly ducks her head.

“Will you be assisting with the yule ball preparations tomorrow?” Lysander asks, still looking at her curiously.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it.” Beatrice gives him a nod in goodbye and turns to leave. As soon as she’s out of sight she rushes down the hall, trying not to drop any of the glasses or bottles in her arms. She finds Leila and Ella in the drawing room and tries her best not to slam the door shut behind her.

“Beatrice? What’s wrong?” Leila must notice the slightly crazed look in her eyes. Beatrice sets the wine and glasses down on the side table and takes a deep breath to settle herself. Leila and Ella are both turned to look at her and she realizes she should probably respond. 

“I saw Lysander in the kitchen.” Beatrice sighs, plopping down between them in the middle of the couch.

“Oh no.” Leila reaches a comforting hand to Beatrice’s shoulder, “I’m sure he wouldn’t judge you for your… green-ness.” 

“It was just embarrassing.” Beatrice resists the urge to put her face into her hands, not wanting to get clay all over her long sleeves. “I’m always embarrassing around him.” 

“That’s not true! You’re brilliant around him. I’ve seen the two of you carrying on your academic discussions, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not watching. He likes you, even if he doesn’t know it yet.” Ella smiles at her, reaching to grab her hand. Leila reaches over to the side table and opens a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for each of them. 

“Are you sure?” Beatrice accepts the glass from Leila and takes a sip. “I think he sees me as a friend, perhaps, but surely nothing more.” 

“Beatrice, I know my brother better than anyone and I can tell you that for all of his intelligence, he can be a bit dense. He’s observant, but he doesn’t always see what’s in front of him. Give him time, encourage him.” Leila pats her shoulder again and takes a sip of her own wine.

“So what do you recommend, to encourage affection?” Beatrice asks, once again blushing under her clay mask.

“Dancing,” Ella says almost wistfully. The look on her face fades from happiness to sadness in an instant when she realizes what she’s said.

“Things still aren't going well with Lachlan?” Leila reaches across Beatrice to grab Ella’s other hand, the three girls now linked. 

“I-,” Ella looks as if she might cry for a moment, but she takes a deep breath and collects herself. “No, they aren’t.”

“He owes you an apology,” Beatrice says, trying to keep her voice from conveying the anger she feels at anyone who could harm her friend. While she’s angry at Lachlan, he is Leila’s brother and she feels the need to remain civil.

“He does,” Leila sighs, “He owes you more than that, he needs to make it up to you.”

“Lachlan can’t even stand to look at me,” Ella’s head droops as she stares down at her shoes. Beatrice squeezes her hand in a show of support. 

“He knows he treated you poorly, he probably feels guilty,” Beatrice frowns, “and rightfully so. You’re not the one at fault here.” 

“Ella, how do you feel about him now? Is he worth it?” Leila asks, giving her friend an encouraging smile.

“I thought I hated him for what he did, but I don't.” Ella sighs, “I could never hate him.” It’s not quite an answer, but the message comes across loud and clear- he’s worth it. 

“And Beatrice? How do you feel about Lysander?” Leila turns to look at her.

“I’m- I think I’m in love with him.” Beatrice’s voice is barely a whisper as she finishes the words, she’s admitted it to herself but not to anyone else, not directly.

“That’s wonderful, Beatrice!” Ella squeezes her hand, just as Beatrice had done.

“It doesn’t feel wonderful,” Beatrice murmurs, thinking of all the empty moments spent waiting for him to notice her, to give her some sort of sign that he might like her.

“No, it doesn’t.” Ella agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Leila puts her glass down and reaches around to give both of them a hug. Ella and Beatrice join in until they’re in an awkward sort of hug huddle. Beatrice’s cheek is pressed against Leila’s and the clay mask feels a bit unpleasant, but she doesn’t pull away. “The Lonans are a difficult bunch at times.” 

“But we love you,” Beatrice smiles, trying to ignore the cracking feel of the clay.

“And we all love you, or at least, we all will,” Leila returns the smile, finally pulling back from the hug. “It’ll all be alright soon, I can feel it.” 

“And I can feel my face peeling off.” Beatrice reaches up to touch her cheek and a patch of dry clay comes off in a flake. 

“Mine too, can we wash these masks off yet?” Ella asks, trying to avoid getting any clay in the stray piece of hair that’s escaped from her updo.

“What, you don’t want to keep the green for a while? Lachlan would definitely look at you then.” Leila laughs.

“I think I’ll pass on that,” Ella replies, and Beatrice is pleased to hear her laughing instead of wincing at the mention of him like she had earlier.

“Me too, I’ve had enough embarrassment for the day. But perhaps tomorrow I’ll turn my hair green too.” Beatrice jokes.

“I’m going to miss both of you when you go back to Vesuvia,” Leila sighs.

“Even when we’re gone, it'll still be the three of us.” Ella’s words, and her familiar smile, comfort the pang of sadness Beatrice feels at the thought of returning to Vesuvia.

“The three of us,” Beatrice echoes, “Though an ocean might separate us, we’re friends, always.” 

“Best friends,” Ella corrects her. 

“More like sisters.” Leila grins, and Beatrice agrees.

[the-navistar-carol]

Garmari — Rainy Days

Written in roughly two to three hours for @waywardpr1ncess due to the fact that SOMEONE (ahem, @cassiopeiathequeen and @ethelphantom) in the Maribat Discord was angsting it up last night. 1.4k, ish

Bonus points if someone guesses the totally-obvious movie at the end, lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been raining all day. Normally, this would be somewhat of a downer, as her favorite inspiration places were outside, but this time, her boyfriend was over.

Seventeen-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng leaned back onto a mound of pillows, hand-sewing a skirt. It was going to be a shorter skirt, one that ended at almost her knee (with pockets!), and made of the prettiest forest green silk. She’d saved for weeks to buy the yardage she needed.

Her boyfriend, Garfield Logan (yes that one), sat at her computer, idly playing Run. Every so often, there’d be a sad pew-pew-pew noise as his character died, but it had faded into the background noise as she worked, chill lo-fi playing from her speakers.

It was going to be a swishy skirt, which she was immensely proud of. It would be smooth and twirl well, and most of all look cute.

As the raindrops grew fatter and came harder down, she turned up her music ever so slightly, lips pursed in concentration as she sewed down the pinned-in pleats.

Thunder boomed in the distance, and the disappointing sound of pew-pew-pew followed soon after. Not even a few seconds later: pew-pew-pew.

Marinette glanced up from her sewing only to see her boyfriend lose for a third time in a row in just about as many seconds.

“Gar, you good over there?”

He glanced over, an easy grin flopping over his face. “Course! I’m with the prettiest girl in the world, stuck in her room, and the famous Dupain-Cheng cookies. How could I not be good? Asides — How come the god of thunder couldn’t speak after getting his teeth pulled?”

She felt a fond grin tug at her lips. “I dunno, why?”

“He was too Thor!”

Marinette couldn’t stop herself from giggling, shaking her head at him. “That was so dumb.”

“It wasn’t dumb if it made you smile, Nettie.”

Pew-pew-pew.

She went back to her sewing, lulled into the trance of needle and fabric.

Thunder boomed again, and a sharp hiss drew her attention from her work as Garfield lost again, his fingers twitching on the keyboard.

Pew-pew-pew.

Pew-pew-pew.

“Gar?”

“It’s nothing, Nettie, just a tough run, is all. I’ve got another one for ya, wanna hear it?” He leaned back in her chair, drumming his fingers on her desk.

A huff escaped before she looked at him again, an eyebrow raised. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.” This time she set down her sewing, leaning back on her pillows.

Her boyfriend couldn’t stop himself from grinning even before he told the punchline. “Why shouldn’t you smoke weed in a thunderstorm?”

Hang on, she heard this one before. “Because the lightning will strike the highest object?”

Gar cackled, slapping the desk. “Yes!” After his laughter died down, which she observed with great amusement, he gave her a very fake pout. “You stole my punchline.”

“Get better jokes,” Marinette teased, and stuck out her tongue at him.

The thunder boomed again, and this time she saw him flinch. Her laughter died as soon as she spotted the minute movement, and she set the skirt-to-be aside.

“Gar?”

“It’s a’ight, Nettie, chill!” He raised his hands in surrender, but she noticed he didn’t meet her eyes. “It’s just thunder — which, by the way, is it because of the storm, or do the angels just want you back?”

She huffed a fond laugh, stood, stretched, and then headed over to set her sewing back in its box. Marinette spun her way to his chair, where he was leaning back, watching her, and bent, her hands behind her back, and kissed him Spiderman-style.

She only drew back enough to look him in the eye. “Cuddles?”

“How can I ever deny that?” Gar grinned, and spun the chair to wrap an arm around her waist, stand, pick her up, and flop backwards onto her bed.

The rain came down harder again, and she snuggled into his side, head on his chest. His arms were wrapped around her, and the lo-fi floated throughout her bedroom.

But then the thunder boomed again, and this time lightning flashed with it. For a split second, her entire room was white. She felt Garfield flinch beneath her, and his arms tightened around her body.

Marinette raised her head, just enough to look him in the eye, and brought up her arms to rest them on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. “Gar, seriously. You know you can tell me what’s up.”

Instantly, his gaze flicked away to stare at a piece of her ceiling. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“Do you mind telling me what’s going on?” Her voice was soft, and she lowered her head to rest it on his chest again, still looking at him.

No response.

“Is it the—”

Thunder boomed like a gunshot, and he jolted like he had been shocked, pulling her close. She could feel his heart racing beneath her arms.

Quieter, she asked, “Gar?”

“It’s the thunder, alright?” he bit out, and immediately, pain twisted his features. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, gently rubbing her back. Still staring up at the ceiling, he slumped back into her mattress. “I’m sorry, Nettie, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You don’t deserve that.”

Marinette found his hand and laced her fingers through his, then gave his hand a soft squeeze. “It’s okay,” she told him, and squeezed his hand again. Her other hand cupped his face and she gently ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s alright. It’s okay to be scared of the little things.”

“But I’m a Titan,” Garfield told her, defeat slumping his shoulders. “I shouldn’t be afraid of that stuff. I’ve faced down the devil, hordes of demons, my best friend… and worse. I shouldn’t be quaking at the sound of a little thunder!”

“I’m scared of dogs,” she told him, and felt his body twist beneath her as he looked up at her, disbelief warring with confusion. “Even medium-sized ones, like, larger than a Labrador. If I don’t know them… I’m afraid.” Marinette gave him a small, slightly-sad smile. “It’s a dumb fear, I know. But it’s really affected me. And you’ve helped me with it, believe it or not. Every time you shift into a dog, it helps me not to be scared.

“So can I help you here?”

She knew he was going to pull her close before he even did it. Gar sat up and tugged her into a tight hug, resting his head on her shoulder. She could feel his heartbeat pulsing against hers. It was calmer than it had been.

“God,” he breathed, shaking his head ever so slightly. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Nettie?” Another beat passed, and then she felt him nod against her shoulder. “Don’t think it’s about returning a favor—”

“It’s not,” she soothed, rubbing his back. “It never was. It’s because you’re my boyfriend and I love you and I hate to see you flinch.” Marinette pressed a kiss to his hair. “It’s because I wanna help with this, Gar. I’d never think of it as anything else.”

The thunder boomed again, and he flinched wildly this time, tensing and tightening his hold on her.

“D’you wanna watch a movie?” Marinette shifted so that she could look him in the eye, pressing her forehead to his. “I’ve got Disney+ and you’ve got the Titans’ Netflix account.”

“A movie sounds great,” he admitted, closing his eyes briefly. “You pick.”

She grinned, and kissed his nose. “You have given me great power, Garfield Logan.”

“Then use it well.” She heard a tinge of laughter return to his voice.

“Don’t you quote Harry Potter at me!” Marinette laughed, and kissed him on the lips for real this time before sliding out of his grip and finding her phone. She scrolled through the movies before grinning. “Oh, this is perfect.”

“Don’t tell me it’s the new Star Wars, Nettie, even I’ve got my limits.” The thunder boomed yet again, and she heard him flinch and rustle her blankets.

Her only response was a grin, and she synced her phone with her computer screen, turning it toward the two of them. A few minutes later, she hopped back onto her bed and snuggled back into him as the Disney theme began playing.

A minute later, she was rewarded with an exasperated groan that was quickly followed by laughter. “Wow, Nettie.”

“Oh, don’t pretend like you won’t be singing along,” she accused playfully.

Gar kissed her forehead, and snaked his arms around her waist to tug her flush against him.

Once upon a time, in the hidden heart of France, the narration began, a handsome young Prince lived in a beautiful castle...

[bomberqueen17]

big boy

So today was a chicken slaughter day and it was fine. This is 7/12 for the year so we’ve officially passed the halfway mark.

The two young male interns have both left to go back to school. They’ve been replaced by a young woman who has deferred her freshman year of college due to concerns about the handling of the pandemic. The two boys were rather rowdy, and she’s quiet, so far, but we’re glad not to be too short-handed, so.

We had a farm alumna come back for processing-- the first Assistant Livestock Manager, who left two years ago or so-- moved to Boston-- she’s working now as an inspector for an organic certification agency, and she had a farm on her schedule nearbyish, so she scheduled the inspection for a Monday afternoon before slaughter day so she could come camp out in a tent and help us while being isolated.

Farmkid is delighted to see her; she worked here for two years when Farmkid was like, hmm, two to fourish? culminating in Farmkid getting to be the flower girl in her wedding? so it was pretty epic as early friendships go in Farmkid’s mind, and she’s always so excited to see this woman, who I guess can just be Farm Alumna for this post’s purposes. She was super good about her mask, too. We’re currently in three different isolation circles-- FA, who has been isolated in a tiny circle of just herself and her husband in Boston, so she’s certainly not exposed, then the general circle of the farm, which is a large and irregular circle including me and my Dude, who is visiting presently, and then the third circle is the new farm apprentice and the last of the previous group of farm apprentices who just went on vacation; they’ve decided to co-isolate together, as the old apprentice was just on a plane and so ought to be quarantining, and the new apprentice who came from out of state and so ought to be quarantining and it’s just easier if they consider themselves a self-contained unit.

Anyway it’s a lot of mask-wearing and logistics but as long as we can eat lunch outside it’s not horribly difficult.

But the punchline of this post, okay, I promise it’s funny. It’s not that funny. Whatever it’s funny.

Mm last bit of background-- we had three apprentices this year but along with them they hired a new Assistant Livestock Manager. He is an adorable young man of like, 23 or 24, very cute, slight of stature, a bit, hmm, I intend this to be a sort of neutral descriptor, but swishy-- he’s a Texan who came to a small liberal arts college in central NY state to major in poetry? He’s rather interested in fashion? He likes to speak with exuberant gestures? Also he’s gay like in real life, but-- he’s like, cartoony-gay on purpose in his mannerisms, he’s also quite experienced at farm living and very practical and also he writes poetry. So like, he contains multitudes. Anyway he’s a fantastic character and I could not possibly create a character in fiction as entertaining as he is in real life. (After we were done with chicken processing he went home and showered and changed and then came back for pizza night, as is customary, and he showed up in these fantastic white denim overall shorts with rolled cuffs, and actually pulled off the look flawlessly.)

Anyway.

So, Farm Alumna (and former Assistant Livestock Manager herself, as it happens) has been all toured around the farm and seen all the various improvements we’ve made since she left-- she’d been by in November so generally she’s up on all the new stuff, but there’s been some additional new things.

The last thing she hadn’t seen that was new was that we got a really big long sturdy stainless-steel table to use out in the kill room, replacing two smaller tables of similar design. She worked in the evisceration room so she hadn’t seen the new table until we were cleaning up and it got moved into the hallway. She turned and saw it there, just as the new Assistant Livestock Manager was walking past it.

“Oh my,” she said admiringly, “look at this big boy!”

The new ALM paused, a little taken aback, then said “why thank you,” flexed, and kept walking.

[emo-space-tea]

~Diagon Alley~

NOT MY GIF

Chapter 2

~3rd Person POV, Year 1~

A few days later the small family traveled to Diagon Alley to pick up their school supplies. First they got their books, then got fitted for their uniforms, the tailor stopped their mother to ask some questions. The woman told her kids to get their pets and wands, then handed her kids 20 galleons each. Then she mentioned that they had 25 minutes before they meet back at the entrance of the alley.

The twins left the shop and rushed to the pet store. Unfortunately the twins lost track of time, being distracted by all the cute owls, mice, cats. Elaine picked out an owl she found cute, while Elijah couldn’t decide so they left the shop with a new owl, Oriel.

The twins rushed to Ollivanders. Elaine was way ahead of Elijah, when she crashed into a boy who looked around her age. When the two collided, the boy dropped the books he had in his arms, while Elaine almost dropped her new owl but quickly caught the cage he was in. Then the petite girl noticed the books on the ground along with the boy.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! Here let me help!” Elaine apologized, before she grabbed the books around her.

“It’s alright, but what were you running for?” The boy asked, also picking up his books.

“Me and my brother lost track of time. We need to get our wands before we go back home.” The blonde girl answered.

Once she had all the books, she handed them to the boy before getting a good look at him. He had straight black hair that went over his forehead, piercing green eyes, and circular glasses held together by tape. What Elaine didn’t notice is her freckled cheek turned slightly pink. She looked down and saw a box that said Ollivanders.

“You’ve gotten your wand already? What’s it like-” Elain asked before being cut off.

“Sis! We’ve got 10 minutes!” Her brother called out, just before grabbing her arm and rushing to Ollivanders.

The young girl, a little shocked, shouted a goodbye to the boy with glasses.

“We’ve got to go, It was nice to meet you, Bye!!”

The boy quickly waved bye to the girl, his face also turning pink. He was still staring at where the girl once was when he realised he hadn’t even gotten her name, nor did he give her his!

He then sighed and hoped to see her when he went to Hogwarts. Meanwhile the twins got into Ollivanders. Elijah let go of his sister, and Elaine gently put down Oriel. The two looked around for a bit before Elijah called out, “Hello?”

“Oh Hello! Ah Elaine and Elijah Brightheart! I remember when your mother and father got their wands! You’ve got your mum’s hair and dad’s eyes! Though you’ve got the freckles your grandmother had!” Ollivander ranted, coming from the enmornous shelves that had many wands.

“You knew our mother?” Elaine asked, then Elijah continued.

“And our father?” The freckled boy asked, before the both of them continued.

“And our Grandmother?!” The twins exclaimed, synchronized.

“Indeed, now you’ve come for your wands, have you not?” Ollivander asked.

The twins nodded and Elijah gestured for his twin to go first. The girl walked up to the man. Ollivander looked through some of the wands and grabbed one then opening it and handing it to the petite girl. Elaine took the wand and gently waved it, then many of the lights burst causing Elaine to place the wand on the desk.

“Hmm, not that one.” Ollivander mumbled, picking up the wand and grabbing a second.

“Here, this one is Alder Wood with Phoenix Feather Core, 11 ½, and quite bendy. Give this one a whirl.” Ollivander informed, before handing it to the girl.

Elaine waved the wand, and gold glitter came out of the wand and gently fell over the girl. The blonde girl smiled and looked back at her brother, who was also smiling.

“Well, I think it's obvious that wand likes you. Elijah you next.” Ollivander said with a slight smile.

The boy then walked up and watched as Ollivander grabbed what looked like a very old box, and took a wand from it.

“This. This wand is Apple wood with Unicorn Hair Core, 12 ¾, and surprisingly swishy flexibility.” Ollivander informed again, handing it to the boy.

Elijah waved the wand and a bright light shined over himself. A big smile spread across his face and rushed to hug his sister.

“You should know, that wand of your’s is very pure. It’s horrible at performing dark spells. Use it wisely boy.” Ollivander said, in a more serious tone.

Elijah nodded, taking in the information, before hearing the door open.

“I knew you two would be in here, let me guess, got distracted at the Pet shop?” The twins mum asked from the doorway.

“Hello Leora.” Ollivander greeted.

“Oh, Hello Ollivander.” Leora greeted back.

“Sorry, but we simply must go now, these two wanted to go home the second they got all their stuff, so they can practice the simple charms and spells.” Leora mentioned, with a small smile looking at her children.

The twins, embarrassed, looked down with pink on their freckled cheeks. Ollivander lightly chuckled, before nodding and saying goodbye. The Brightheart's exited the building before making sure they had all their stuff. Then the twins each grabbed one of their mother’s hands, Leora then apparated back to their mansion.

The twins then rushed up to their room to start packing, and practicing of course. Leora chuckled softly, remembering the day she got back from Diagon Alley for the first time, she acted just like them.

The twins upstairs, folded their clothes and some extra things. Then Elaine paused and asked her brother something neither of them had thought about before.

“Lucky, what if we don’t get sorted into Hufflepuff or Slytherin?” The petite girl asked, softly.

The boy was silent for a bit, then answered, “Does it matter? It’s not like mom will kick us out or anything like that.”

“Yeah, but if we don’t then the paper will go on and on about the twins that broke The Brightheart Chain. I don’t want to be any more famous than we are, even now is bad enough!” Elaine responded.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, even if we do get sorted into Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, we’ll have each other.” Elijah comforted.

The blonde girl was silent for a bit, then she smiled and nodded her head confidently. Her brother then smiled as well before asking, “By the way, who was that boy you bumped into earlier?”

“Oh! He was-” She began to answer before cutting herself off and pausing for a bit and thinking. Suddenly, Elaine slapped her forehead before saying, “I didn’t ask him his name! Ugh, I’m a bloody fool.”

“Hey, it’s alright, if he was at Diagon Alley, that means we may see him at Hogwarts!” Elijah said, trying to comfort his twin sister.

“Yeah! Your right. We’ll see him at Hogwarts!” Elaine exclaimed, with a smile.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, practicing a few spells here and there, laughter filled the dining room during dinner. The twins soon after went up to their room and did their nightly routines. The twins went to bed, thoughts filled their heads about all the adventures they’d have, all the new friends, and of course all the magic.

Tomorrow They go to Hogwarts. Tomorrow.

*•~Emo-Space-Tea~•*

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