#so of course he had everyone enraptured the whole time

[peaches2217]

I come from a family of singers, and while I didn’t inherit the Actually Good at Singing gene, I used to love singing anyway. I’ve always been an alto, and my deeper voice was always a point of pride for me! I was into musical theatre, and when I would actually be cast, I’d find as many loopholes as possible to sing lower than I was supposed to. I wanted to be a Broadway actress. But I wanted to play women’s and men’s roles. I wanted to be known as the woman who could be a man just as easily and just as flawlessly.

But after a, uh, particular incident at a singing contest, I realized just how much I actually sucked and swore off singing for the rest of my life; I’ve been slowly allowing myself to sing again through my twenties, but never where others can hear.

While my speaking voice hasn’t dropped as much since starting T, my singing voice has. I’ve been testing my low range by singing the opening of The Reincarnation of Benjamin Breeg and seeing how many notes I can actually hit, and I’ve been kinda dissatisfied, because I still can’t hit the bottom notes. But as of late I’ve found myself cranking off into musical theatre pieces whenever I’m alone and cleaning or driving or what have you, and the more I go through, the more I realize my voice is, at present, so much closer to the voice I always wanted growing up.

While cleaning the windows at work, I cranked off on the most hilariously passionately rendition of Who I’d Be, which has always been one of my favorites, but one I could never sing; it went too low, and raising the key took it too high outside of my range. Now? I can hit every last note. Not well, of course, but I never once struggled in the lows. Now I can’t stop singing it, because I’ve wanted to sing it since I was thirteen and now I finally can and I’m needlessly emotional over it.

I dunno. It’s just nice. This is the first time I’ve felt happy about my voice since I was in middle school, and it’s empowering in an odd sorta way.

[charlottes-diary-entries]

just a little something to get started with this blog <3 enjoy!

"afternoon amour" poly!marauders x reader, very, very fluffy

Now, despite the difficult and dreary task it is to stay focused in History of Magic, despite the awful, droning tone of Professor Binns, and despite the pleasant day outside that called to every Hogwarts student like a siren, you were dutifully scratching out notes on Elfric the Eager.

That's just who you were, a good student. Focused, dutiful! Your grades never suffered, and, quite frankly, you took pride in your work.

So, when the end of class rolled around and students were itching to chase out the door and into the sun, you were reasonably surprised to have Binns return a paper to you with a "Dreadful" marking on it.

You gaped at the "D" on the paper before quickly flipping through the pages. Red ink was scribbled all over it, corrections here and there and everywhere. By the time you recognized the handwriting and realized Binns had made a mistake by handing you the wrong paper, the student's paper that you held had scrambled out of the classroom with the rest of his famous friends.

You thought the Marauders were all relatively smart, how did Sirius Black manage such an awful grade?

Glancing around the now empty classroom and then out the window, you sighed, trying to decide just how worth it it was to follow the rowdy group outside and retrieve your actual paper. You looked at the "Dreadful" paper again.

Not that the Marauders had ever done anything horrible to you personally, it was quite the opposite.

They were far too friendly.

It was perfectly fine that they were cozy and affectionate with each other, seeing as the whole school knew about their sweet romance, but they always managed to pull you into their show. Little compliments here and there, the occasional brushed hand or shoulder. You flushed thinking of some of the things Black himself had shouted to you in public. Potter incessantly held doors for you and practically stole your books off your shoulder to carry them for you. Even Lupin had his moments of quiet suaveness, standing and sitting too closely to be entirely friendly, speaking to you gently as he explained things or said a joke only meant for you.

Not that you entirely minded, of course. But having three gorgeous Gryffindors flirt with you and distract you and be so romantic but never fully ask you on a real date could be... overwhelming.

A gentle sigh escaped you as you stood with your bag on your shoulder and Black's paper in hand. Might as well take the opportunity to enjoy the pretty day outside.

As you made your way out the doors, sunshine washed over your face, followed by the shouts of your peers enjoying the day. A quick glance around the courtyard led you to exactly what you were looking for.

There stood James Potter, emphatically recounting a story to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. He seemed completely in his element, skin glowing under the light of day as he jumped and kicked and shouted to them. Remus leaned against a tree with his legs crossed, one arm holding Sirius to his chest (who was enraptured with James's story) and the other holding a novel. You smiled watching them. Their shared happiness was completely contagious to everyone around them.

Sirius looked like he was about to chime in with Jame's when you caught his eyes, a huge grin spreading across his face.

"Hey gorgeous! Don't you look lovely as ever?"

His shout made James turn and Remus look up from his book, smiles spreading across their faces as well as a flush spread across yours. James bounded towards you and tossed an arm around your shoulders, bright as ever.

"Hey there lovey," He said as he dragged you towards the others, much faster than you had been walking before, "to what do we owe the pleasure of seeing your pretty face?"

"A misplaced paper, it would seem." You shyly produced Sirius's horrid essay, and James snatched it from your hands.

"Christ, Pads, how'd you manage that?"

"Manage what?" Remus frowned, putting down his novel as James handed him the paper. He skimmed the front before pushing Sirius aside to flip through the leaves of paper, frowning more. "Sirius, I helped you study for this! How'd you still manage a 'Dreadful'?"

The boy in question scoffed a little, before smirking and offering a hand towards you. "Way to tattle on me gorgeous."

Your cheeks felt even warmer as James grabbed your bag and nudged you towards Sirius, who, once in range, grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit with him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you into his side, leaning his head against your shoulder.

You whispered a quiet sorry to Sirius, who playfully shushed you, as Remus looked up again, scolding in his tone.

"I'm serious Pads, this is just horrendous. Did you even try at this?"

"Maybe. Maybe not," He then turned his gaze to you, mischief in his eyes, "maybe I was distracted during class."

At this you tucked your face behind your hands and groaned, making James and Sirius coo at you while Remus's frown softened.

"Quit using our dovey as an excuse, and set the poor thing free, you've just about crumpled them."

Sirius shot up at this, scandalized. "I've done no such thing!" He tightened his grasp on you and pulled your hands into one of his as he looked at you. "They don't mind my loving on them! Do you, gorgeous?"

"Uh-" You glanced between Sirius, Remus, and James, who had now set your bag down and sat in front of the two of you. Your face felt like it was on fire. This felt a little more serious than the playful comments you four had shared up to this point. James smiled pitifully and reached over to stroke your arm.

"Do you really mind, lovey? We'll leave you be if it's too much."

If it's too much.

You glanced between the boys, thinking about how overwhelmed you felt around them. The touches, the soft words, the loving pet names.

Glancing between them, you realized just how wonderful the feeling was. Sure you were overwhelmed, but it was a completely fuzzy, delightful feeling. You felt loved.

The longer you sat quietly, the more boys seemed to deflate. Sirius removed his arm and was about the shuffle off before you grabbed at his arm to stop him.

With a smile, you spoke up,

"No. Not too much. It's alright. I-... I like it."

Sirius grinned, scooping you entirely into his lap and holding you tightly as James laughed and Remus rolled his eyes fondly at his behavior.

"Perfect, I knew you'd be on my side, gorgeous." He tucked his chin over your shoulder to give Remus a stink eye and a smirk. "Looks like I win this time."

You feared Remus's eyes may get stuck if he kept rolling them, but he shook his head and scooched to lean against Sirius. His voice was filled with loving as he spoke up,

"There's no winning for you considering this essay."

You giggled as Sirius groaned and hid away in your neck, whispering a quiet "see what they put me through?" to you as James laid his head across your lap with a grin.

"Maybe they can help you study, Pads! Since it's clear Remus's tutoring isn't workin- OW! Hey!"

James rubbed at his cheek where Remus had just pinched him. The latter huffed and cozied up closer to you and Sirius, who laughed at James's misfortune. You began to run your hand through his curls as your eyes shut.

The sun's warmth felt lovely on your face, but being surrounded by your boys possibly made you feel warmer.

this completely not proof read i fear but i wanted to write something before the night ended, so have this as a gift my dears <3 much love, charlie

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor with a 1950’s housewife styled reader. When he sees her he doesn’t even understand why she’s in hell in the first place.

!!Mentions of domestic violence!!

She killed her husband for laying a hand on their child. She was slow and methodical with her kill, and when Alastor finds out he becomes enraptured by her. In awe of how proper and kind she is but how devastatingly cruel she can be if the circumstance calls for it.

He finds her duality alluring in a sense, and he’s so curious to see what fresh hell she’d let loose in hell if she decided to unleash herself upon some poor sinners.

This is my first request in a long time and I’m super tired so I hope this makes sense 😅

Oh boy, oh boy, did I love this idea and I hope I did you justice on it :)!

ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕤

Alastor x Reader

“Alastor, dear, can you do me a favor?” I asked while smoothing my dress out nervously.

“Of course darling! What can I do for you my Angel?” Alastor started calling me that the day he met me. He was adamant that heaven messed up or I was a fallen angel for being too good. Every time he would go on one of his long stipples, I would have to keep my lips tight and calm my beating heart for two reasons. He really was too sweet to me and because I never want anyone to know my ugly truth. Not that I’m ashamed but because I don’t need everyone hunting down the man, especially considering he was alive and well in hell with me. I think he suffered considerably for his actions and I didn’t need the whole hotel, that was supposed to be a walking advertisement about redemption, trying to murder this man. Especially Alastor, he would be completely unforgiving.

He was always so polite when it concerned me and always had a compliment to throw my way.

“Mon Cher, looking elegant as always.”

“Darling, do smile more often. Hell would be much better with your sparkling smile.”

“What’s a looker like you doing at the bar by yourself? Care for company Angel?”

“Mon Cher,

“Would you be so kind to help me make dinner today? I truly didn’t expect the King of Hell to be visiting or I could’ve handled it on my own.” Exasperated that Charlie failed to mention, again, about her fathers visit. I rather not have him thinking an old housewife, such as myself, failed to uphold the standards I was raised with. This place will be spotless and perfect in two hours by my own hand, if Alastor agrees to assist me. I always batted his hands away when he’s tried before, being conditioned that all this work is only my job. My ex husband made sure I learned that too.

“Absolutely! Anything for my sweet Angel! Are you certain there is nothing else I can assist you with? Perhaps some cleaning, laundry, anything?” Alastor was leaning in towards my personal space as I pushed a finger over his massive smile. He truly is a pure gentleman despite his horrific sins he’s committed. Maybe that’s why I’m so attracted to him?

“Oh, no. Just some help in the kitchen will be fine. I just need someone to watch over the meal as it cooks so it doesn’t burn while I clean the rest of this hotel.” I smiled at him as polite as I could while trying not to tremble over the simple act of asking for help. It’s always involuntary when I flinch at a man, so much so that I’ve overheard conversations about it from the group. Charlie and Angel express their concerns to me but the rest just watch with pity in their eyes.

“Angel, certainly there is more I can do?” He gave me his smile still, slightly strained, but concern and a small hint of frustration were in those burgundy eyes. I pretended to think on it before shaking my head.

“That simply won’t do. I will handle all kitchen duties and you can clean. Don’t try to stop me.” Alastor morphed through the shadows as I raced to beat him to the kitchen, only to be met with a locked door. I huffed before giving in, but only because I was on a tight schedule. Fighting with Alastor’s stubbornness was at the bottom of my list and making sure this place was spiffy was at the top. So, I raced around on the lobby floor, cleaning everything and everything. I couldn’t help but notice how Alastor was trying to slyly send his shadow and Niffty to help. Ignoring them on purpose, faking ignorance for his sake, and kept cleaning at my full speed.

By the time I noticed there was nothing left to do, I was out of breath and was done one hour earlier than I thought I would be. That was also considering how I had two extra sets of helping hands plus the fact I didn’t have to check the kitchen at all. I smiled as I panted out, wiping the sweat from my brow. I sauntered into the kitchen, now with unlocked doors, and had my hands on my hips as I watched Alastor finish cooking everything I had laid out. I had a bandana on to keep my hair pulled up and stop the sweat from running down my neck. It was the pretty maroon and black one Alastor gave me the first year I knew him.

“Lovely to see you using the things I get you.” Without even turning around, he knew what I was wearing and didn’t degrade me for not completing these tasks completely on my own or faster. The smile spread on my face as I began to tease back.

“Always lovely to see you cooking. Don’t think I don’t see that tail wagging happily, deer.” I emphasized on his nickname being used more so as what animal he was. His ears twitched as he turned around with a playful grin. My tail whipped around behind me, showing I was teasing him playfully. He leaned closer, invading my personal space again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Angel. I’m just helping a deer friend out.” He chuckled at his own pun, making me smile and nudge him. This is what normally happens when one of us tells a joke, it turns into a pun war. Right now though, I guess it was deer themed with a hint of good tension between us. He had us switching places, where I was the one with the counter behind me and he with nothing. Walking closer and closer, getting more into eachothers spaces with no complaints. Which of itself, others would find quite odd how Alastor wasn’t upset by myself being this close to him.

“That pun wasn’t one of your best. Dare I say, I wasn’t too fawn of that one.” His smile widened with genuine happiness without anything evil being the cause of it. It really was beautiful. I couldn’t help but morph my smile from a playful one to a genuine smile as well, full of admiration. I could even feel my eyes basically forming heart shapes for him.

“Angel?” His eyes looked relaxed along with his smile, he was still leaning so close to me I could feel his coat tickling my skin.

“Yes, deer?” He smiled more before continuing.

“How are you in Hell? Really?” My smile froze as I panicked slightly. He was someone I could see hunting my ex husband down and brutally killing for what he’s done, especially towards me and my family. My hands moved before I could stop them, gripping his with mine. His eyes looked confused at our hands before looking at me, waiting for what it was.

“Promise me, Al, that you’ll let it go after I tell you.” His eyes searched mine before he sighed out.

“You know I can’t promise that, my Angel.” One of his claws carefully brushed my cheek slowly. He started moving slower with his movements when they were towards me after noticing how I flinched. The bright red claws remained on my face as I looked away, defeated.

“It wasn’t always horrible with him, my late husband and father of my two beautiful girls.” I smiled as I mentioned my children, who have long lived their lives after my death, and both in heaven.

“But after a couple years when my youngest turned four, Paul wasn’t the same. He was laid off from his fancy office job and started drinking when he couldn’t find work. We had to sell our home and move. I started working at a couple diners and cleaning for a couple homes, anything to make the bills.” My smile turned sad as Alastor’s turned strained the second I spoke of alcohol. His grip tightened slightly but never enough to hurt me.

“He would get angry when I came home late, how the house was a mess, when the children got fussy, and just anything that involved work for him. That’s when I got tired and mouthed off.” Alastor’s upper lip curled in disgust at what was about to be spoken next.

“He didn’t like that, slapped me back in place.” Alastor’s eyes squinted.

“I think you’re downplaying it, Angel.” I sheepishly grin, knowing he’s right.

“A little.”

“Tell the truth now, darling.”

“He beat me till I couldn’t stand anymore. I tried fighting back but…” I shook my head and felt my eyes burning.

“I was just a silly housewife.” He took his claw and gently swiped away a fallen tear. It was the only tear I will let fall.

“I only said enough when he went to hit the oldest for trying to pull him off of me.” Tension was rising up my spine and locking my jaw tight. Alastor’s radio static picked up even more the second I spoke that sentence. I could feel his anger radiating from him.

“I hated him for it, so much so I killed him.” I looked up at Alastor right when his eyes dilated, recognizing the shock and admiration that was swirling in his eyes. His smile spread out across his face more as the radio static cut silent, then he spoke without any static in his voice.

“My, my, what have we got here? Dare I say my Angel is really a demon after all?” I could tell he said it with slight humor, still thinking I’m too pure to be in hell.

“I poisoned him for months with rat poisoning in his alcohol. He chose his own death, I just sped it up. Everyone thought he died of alcohol poisoning but it was me. I’d do it again if it meant my kids never had to see that ever again. He could’ve lived if he just chose his family over the alcohol.” I shrugged with no remorse for my actions.

“While he was getting more and more ill, I would watch from the doorway of our bedroom, where he slept. Just holding a kitchen knife and sharpening it, watching him sleep horribly.” Alastor smiled wider, wider than I thought possible really, and dipped me down gracefully. His arm behind my back holding me completely as his other hand delicately glided his ruby claw down my cheek.

“Mon Cher, penser que je ne pourrais pas t'aimer davantage.” **

Alastor was immediately thinking about how he’d worship her forever and was intrigued to see what fresh hell she would unleash by his side with this daunting loyalty and protective spirit. He also took note to pay a visit to dear ol’ Paul, the current bartender that replaced Husk at the casino in town.

** translation - “My dear, to think that I couldn’t love you more.”

(As always, characters belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over :)! I will gladly try to write things for my supporters! Thank you for the love and have a great day! <3)

[petitemistletoe]

She-Wolf

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, Wolfstar x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst

Word Count: 4K+

A/N: She-Wolf by Shakira is such a Marauders song thank you Shakira for your contributions to society

S.O.S. she's in disguise

S.O.S. she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Alright James?” Remus asked as he set his books down on his bed, Sirius and Peter trailing in behind him. 

“Yeah, Prongs, what the hell are you doing?” Sirius asked, flopping down on his bed and watching James throw away a cluster of chocolate frog wrappers. 

“I’m cleaning after you animals.” James rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Why?” Peter asked. 

“My cousin is coming to visit and I got permission for her to stay here.” James held up a set of a dirty robes that had been hidden under Peter’s bed and gagged. 

“Your cousin? I thought she was up in the Pyrenees at Beauxbatons.” Remus bent down to help James pick up discarded candy bean packages. 

“Is she still a foul little bitch?” Peter said, flopping onto his bed and scowling.

“Whoa Wormy! Didn’t know you even knew that word!” Sirius laughed. 

“Don’t tell me you’re still upset with her for your little quidditch incident when we were seven.” James laughed.

“She hit me with her broomstick and broke my nose.” Peter sulked. 

“That was years ago, Peter. Beauxbatons has a holiday for some French event and I got Dumbledore’s permission to stay. I need everyone to be on their best behavior because she’s going to meet Evans for the first time.” 

“I will not be nice to her.” Peter crossed his arms.

“Yes, you will.” James’ words were clipped. Sirius was going to fire off some other ugly compliment when there was a knock at the dorm door. 

“Professor Dumbledore,” James took a step back from the door. 

“Hello gentlemen. James, your cousin’s chariot has landed by the black lake. She’s in the great hall now, waiting for you.” Dumbledore smiled. James, Remus, and Sirius bounded down the stairs while Peter sulked upstairs.

Remus was absolutely knocked back when he saw you. Sure, you were absolutely gorgeous but there was something about you, something he couldn’t quite name that had him enraptured by you. 

You were seated at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, talking to Mary. You hand was light on Mary’s arm, your head thrown back in laughter at something Mary had said. 

“Potter! You didn’t tell me your cousin was so hilarious.” Mary grinned as the boys sat down next to you. 

“It’s so good to see you, James.” You gave your cousin a tight hug before looking at the two boys seated next to him. “I imagine you must be Sirius and Remus. James never shuts up about you.”

A domesticated girl that's all you ask of me

Darling, it is no joke, this is lycanthropy

The moon's awake now, with eyes wide open

My body's craving, so feed the hungry

“Guilty as charged.” Sirius winked.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked. 

“He’s still cross with you about the broomstick.” James rolled his eyes.

“Oh my God that was like ten years ago.” You laughed and rolled your own eyes. 

“So how long will you be staying with us?” Sirius asked. 

“The whole weekend!”

“That long?” James looked alarmed. He had told the boys that you were only staying for the night.

“Is that alright?” You cocked your head. 

“Of course, of course. Moony, Pads, can I talk to you for a second?” James stood from the table and gestured for the boys to follow until they were out of earshot of the table. 

“So she’s staying for a week?” Sirius glared at James. 

“I didn’t know! What are we going to do?” James moaned. 

I've been devoting myself to you Monday to Monday and Friday to Friday

Not getting enough retribution or decent incentives to keep me at it

I'm starting to feel just a little abused like a coffee machine in an office, ah

So I'm gonna go somewhere cosy to get me a lover and tell you about it

“Do about what?” Peter asked, joining the group. 

“James’ cousin is staying for the entire weekend.” Remus sighed. 

“What about the moon on Saturday?” Peter asked. 

“Yeah, that’s the problem Pete.” Sirius rubbed his temples

“I knew there was nothing good that could happen with that girl around.” Peter shook his head and made his way back over to the table.

“Alright Peter?” You grinned up at the boy. 

“Potter.” He glared down at you. 

“Don’t tell me your still upset about the broom!”

“It’s all he’s talked about for the past two weeks.” Mary said with an eyeroll. “You’re coming to the Three Broomsticks tonight, right?”

“Am I?” You looked up at James. 

“Yeah! We’ll do dinner here and then drinks at the pub and you can meet Lily. I think you’ll love her.” James smiled. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Excellent! When’s dinner I’m starving?” You asked. 

“About an hour. I think James and I are going to do a quick spin on the pitch if you’d like to join. I’m sure Wormy would love it.” Sirius grinned at the thought of you being around Peter again with a broom. 

“I appreciate the offer but I actually was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Madame Pomfrey’s office.”

“What do you need to see Madame Pomfrey for?” James was immediately concerned, his hand going to your forehead to check your temperature. 

“I’m fine,” you laughed, “I’ve been wanting to explore the world of healing after I graduate and I hear that Poppy Pomfrey is one of the best medi-witches in the UK.” You explained. 

“I can walk you down,” Remus said, getting up and extending his hand to help you up. 

“See you all at dinner!” You waved to the group and walked down to the hospital wing with Remus. 

Remus left you in the hospital wing and made his way back up to the dorms, expecting to find it completely empty. He was surprised to see Sirius lounging on Remus’ bed, playing with a snitch. 

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

Nocturnal creatures are not so prudent

The moon's my teacher, and I'm her student

“What are you doing up here?” Remus asked, sitting down hard on the bed and sighing. His body was sore, the way it always was in the days leading up to the moon. 

“Peter threw another hissy fit so James is calming him down. I didn’t want to hear him moan anymore so I thought I’d come here and hear you moan.” Sirius smirked, grabbing Remus by the back of the neck and kissing him hard. Remus chuckled and reciprocated, his teeth clashing against Sirius’ as he pulled off his shirt. Remus could feel Sirius growing hard beneath him and he chuckled, 

“You’re so needy for me.” Remus grinned. Sirius moaned into Remus’ open mouth and whispered, 

“You’re always so hot near the moon.” Sirius flipped Remus over so Sirius was on top and started to kiss down Remus’ jaw, then his chest, then down his stomach towards his cock. Sirius took Remus into his mouth and relaxed his mouth, trying to take in as much of Remus as he could. Remus knotted his fingers in Sirius’ dark hair and moaned, 

“Fuck yeah, Black. God that feels so good.”

Sirius moaned around Remus’ cock, taking out his own cock and jerking it as he sucked Remus off. Remus knew the moon heightened his emotions and impulses but he felt like his skin was on fire. It felt like every nerve ending was exposed and as he came he released a strangled, 

“Oh Potter.”

Sirius jerked his head back, his mouth still full of Remus’ cum and quirked an eyebrow at him. Sirius swallowed harshly and said, 

“You just killed my hard-on.”

To locate the single man I got on me a special radar

And the fire department hot line in case I get in trouble later

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys I just want to enjoy

By having a very good time and behave very bad in the arms of a boy

“I-” Remus was bright red and trying to make sense of what had just happened. 

“You don’t have a crush on James, do you?” Sirius joked. 

“No, no, not James…”

“It’s his cousin! I knew it! You’ve been acting weird ever since she got here.” Sirius was a little annoyed now, “I thought you were gay, you big liar.”

“I am! I don’t know what it is about her…something I can’t quite explain. Hopefully it’s all just related the moon.” Remus shook his head. 

“Maybe you should fuck her,” Sirius shrugged. 

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah. Get it out of your system. We could have a little threesome!” Sirius laughed. 

“With James’ cousin? He would murder us in cold blood.” Remus shook his head. 

You were making your way back up from the hospital wing when a girl started walking in stride with you. 

“Can I help you?” You asked her. James had warned you extensively of steering clear of the Slytherins and this girl wasn’t wearing her house tie so you were a bit concerned. 

“Sorry! I’m Lily, James’ girlfriend. You’re his cousin, aren’t you?” She stopped and stretched out her hand. 

“Oh hi! How did you know I was James’ cousin?” You asked, shaking her hand and resuming your walk.

“He’s talked about you for two weeks straight, I think I could’ve drawn you from memory. Also your powder blue Beauxbatons uniform makes you stick out like a sore thumb.” Lily giggled.

“Oh,” you released a laugh yourself, “I guess you’re right.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your uniform as you walked with Lily to the great hall. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

It was far more alive than it had been just an hour ago when you had arrived. The four large tables were packed, each one was practically overflowing with students who were talking loudly and over each other. You expected a clear divide between each house, after James’ comments about Slytherin but it seemed like there was a fair amount of intermingling. The Slytherins generally kept to themselves but other than that you saw people of all tie colors sitting together, chatting, eating, joking around. You saw Mary sitting in the lap of a boy with a yellow tie at a table that was not Gryffindor’s. You couldn’t help but stare at the Slytherin table as you walked towards the Gryffindor table. There was a boy at the table that was staring daggers at you. He had impossibly pale skin, a large hooked nose, and long dark hair that seemed overdue for a wash. He was seated next to a boy who bore a striking resemblance to Sirius and you seemed to remember your Aunt Effie mentioning something about taking in Sirius after a fall-out with his family. He was a Black, if you remembered correctly, and even though tensions about blood status were not as high in France as they were in the UK, you were well aware of the Black legacy. Perhaps this boy was Sirius’ brother. Regardless, he wasn’t the one staring at you-that was the greasy haired boy. 

Lily had something to you that you hadn’t processed and she followed your gaze to the boy. To your surprise, her face split into a grin and she waved at the boy who only blushed red and dropped his head. 

“That’s Severus. He’s…an old friend of mine. James doesn’t like that we’re friends. I’m sure he’s told you all about how awful and foul the Slytherins are.” Lily’s voice and an edge to it. 

“He has,” you nodded, “but James has always been very passionate about what he believes in.”

“That’s an understatement,” Lily nodded as you sat. You two were the first of the group to sit at the table and you relished the few moments of quiet where you could talk with Lily uninterrupted. 

“I’m not going to say anything bad about James,” you said, diplomatically, “but I have no business in writing people off before I can make my own sound judgement about them.”

“Oh,” Lily seemed to have been released of an intense weight on her shoulders, “I’m so glad to hear that. It’s rich coming from James, too, considering that Remus-” Lily’s eyes went wide and she immediately sucked in a deep breath. 

“Remus has all those scars, right? Must make him a target for bullies.” You supplied. 

“Yes, yes exactly.” Lily said gratefully. Before she could say anything else, Sirius and Remus waltzed into the hall, followed closely by James and Peter.

“Look at that! My two best girls are already acquainted!” James shoved his way between you and Lily and wrapped his arms around you both. 

“Oh God,” you gagged, wiggling out of James’ grasp and covering your nose with your hand.

“James you smell disgusting!” Lily also scooted away from James and gave him a playfully disgusted look. 

“I was on the pitch!” James said with mock shock, “Don’t act like you don’t love it Evans!” He practically tackled Lily, peppering with kisses as she pretended to retch. 

“Are they always that lovey-dovey?” You asked Sirius, who sitting across from you.

“Unbearably so.” Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“So how was your talk with Madame Pomfrey?” Remus asked. It seemed like every time you turned your head Remus was staring at you with his deep, inquisitive eyes. 

“Great! She shared a lot of great resources about healing.” You nodded and took a bite of your food. The blonde girl at the table, Marlene, whipped her head around.

“Are you interesting in healing?” She asked excitedly. 

“Uh, yes. I was thinking about pursuing it after I graduate.” You replied cautiously. 

“So will I! I’d love to pick your brain about it.” Marlene had a wide grin on her face. 

“Absolutely,” you said with mock confidence, “another time though. I’m here to spend time with my cousin, if he can bear detaching himself from his girlfriend for a moment.” 

The table came alive with that, everyone laughing and hollering as James and Lily broke apart both red faced and sheepish. James was informing you of the evening’s itinerary when you felt a foot trace its way up your leg. Not too far up or anything, but it was definitely there and it definitely belonged to one Sirius Black. He was looking at you with a smirk as his fingers danced around the rim of his goblet. It took an active effort for you to tear yourself away from his gaze and pay attention to what James was saying. 

“Hold on a second,” you held your hand up and looked at James in astonishment, “you want to hit the pitch tomorrow at seven in the morning after getting pissed tonight? Are you insane?” 

“I’m giving you an extra hour of sleep!” James was wearing a face of true astonishment at your protests. 

“Didn’t you know that James Potter has never ever been hungover in his life.” Peter said with a head shake.

“He’s absolutely insufferable after a night of drinking.” Sirius chuckled. His foot was still tracing up and down your leg. 

“Oh I bet he is.” You chuckled but your eyes never left Sirius’. 

“Where will you be sleeping?” Marlene asked. It seemed like dinner was finally coming to a close and you are were all just sipping at your goblets. 

“The boys’ dorm. I think Dumbledore was kind enough to set up an extra cot but we always used to sleep in the same bed when were little.” James pinched your cheek. 

“If you’re going to be insane about Quidditch tomorrow though I’m not sure I want to share a bed with you.” You chuckled. 

“You could always take Moony’s bed, he spends most his nights in Sirius’ bed anyway.” Peter shrugged. Someone breathed in sharply and everyone’s heads shot towards Peter like he’d said something out of turn. James’ gaze was stony, which was odd, you hadn’t known that your cousin had had a mean bone in his body. But here he was, glaring down his oldest friend. 

“You’re together?” You asked, looking between Remus and Sirius. 

“Yes,” Sirius said. James looked like he was ready to launch into a speech but you only shrugged and said, 

“You make a cute couple.”

There was a collective sigh as it seemed that the group was able to drop their guard again. You wondering how many people knew about Sirius and Remus’ relationship. You also found Sirius’ game of footsy all the more confusing. 

You had been a bit suspicious of the Gryffindors when you heard that James wasn’t prone to hangovers. You had assumed that the Gryffindors probably all passed around a bottle of spiked butterbeer and went to sleep a little warm and giggly. You were not expecting the rounds of shots, the drinking games, the chugging contests, the Weed. You were drunk out of your mind. Sirius was playing footsy with you again, being less subtle this time about the way he stared and ogled you. But everyone else was drunk too. Remus was staring, that was nothing new, but you figured maybe he was mad at you for capturing the attention of his boyfriend. But you could’ve sworn you had Remus’ attention first. 

“I’m gonna get another round.” Remus slurred, standing on shaky legs and walking over the bar. 

“I’ll go help,” Sirius followed Remus, slapping his ass hard as he made his way to the bar with his boyfriend. 

“Cheers Moony!” James laughed. His glasses were lopsided on his head and his jaw was covered in red lipstick kiss marks. Lily was perched comfortably on his lap and was resting her head in the crook of his neck. Marlene, Mary, and Peter had tapped out and returned about an hour before with their respective partners, no doubt trying to find unoccupied areas of the castle for a liquor-fueled hookup. 

“James I gotta question for you,” you giggled, knocking over an empty bottle of firewhiskey. 

“Anything for you, love,” James sent a wide grin your way. 

“Why do’ya call Remus Moony?”

“It’s actually a very interesting story,” James took his glasses off and pointed them your way but Lily slapped her hand over James’ mouth.

“I think you’ve had much too much to drink, James.” She said with a panicked laugh. Remus and Sirius returned with the tray of shots and you turned to the boys, 

“Remus, why does everyone call you Moony?” You asked him directly. 

“Just a nickname.” Sirius was casual, relaxed. An odd change from Lily. 

“Mooooony.” You crooned the entire way back to the dorms. “I like that. It has good mouth feel, you know.” You giggled at the sound of your own voice. James was brushing his teeth now, Lily had returned to her dorm and you were laying in James’ bed, just a blink away from falling asleep. 

S.O.S. she's in disguise

S.O.S. she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“I quite like when you say my name,” Remus said, quickly and smoothly in your ear. His voice sent shivers down your spine. And then, you would tell yourself in the morning that you imagined it because you were so drunk, but you could have sworn that Remus licked up the side of your neck. 

When you woke up the next morning, your brain was pulsating inside your skull. You heard someone retching in the bathroom and you turned and found the bed empty. You tried to remember if James had even returned the night before or if you had left him in the pub when he sauntered back in, sweaty from a few rounds at the pitch. 

“There’s no way you aren’t hungover.” You groaned, turning over onto your stomach and wrapping your pillow over your ears. 

“Why don’t we get some breakfast? You’ll feel better.” James teased gently, trying to pull the covers off you. 

“Shut the fuck up James!” Remus snapped from behind his curtain. 

“Alright Moony, don’t yell just because it’s your time of the month. I have a bad enough headache as it is.” Peter was rubbing his temples as he exited the bathroom. He must’ve been the one vomiting earlier.

“Time of the month?” You asked. 

“Breakfast time!” James said suddenly, clapping his hands around your head. 

“Go away!” You groaned again, burying your head in your pillow until you were able to fall asleep again. When you woke up it was just you and Remus in the dorm. You dressed quietly as Remus explained that you two had slept through breakfast but you would be able to make lunch. Sirius and Peter had left just a few minutes before and James had already showered and finished an essay and was now waiting for you downstairs. You two made your way together down to the great hall where you wrapped your hands around a cup of coffee and nibbled at a piece of dry toast. Remus had loaded up his plate with a variety of lunch foods and you were staring at him in astonishment. Other than Remus, James was the only one with a normal appetite. 

“How are you not hungover?” You were flabbergasted, shaking your head at James. 

“You inherited Aunt Camille’s Veela status, I got her ability to avoid hangovers.” James shrugged. 

“So! I was thinking that you could spend the night in the girls’ dorm tonight. We’ll have a little sleepover.” Lily said with a grin. 

“Oh I’d love that but I actually want to spend more time with Jamesie here.” You smiled. Lily shot James a panicked expression that you weren’t able to fully understand. Remus leaned over and looked at the boys, sharing a knowing look that meant they all needed to talk. Luckily for the boys, you and Marlene were going to head to the library which meant the boys had free reign over the dorm for the foreseeable future. 

“Maybe it’s not a good idea for you all to come with me to the shack. We can’t risk your cousin finding anything out.” Remus sighed. 

“No! Moony we’ll figure it out, don’t worry. We can give her a strong sleeping draught tonight and sneak out after.” James reassured Remus. 

Remus was even more on edge than usual. Having you nearby and the approaching moon had his skin on fire and he just wanted to get the moon over and done with. Luckily for everyone, you had decided that your hangover was still plaguing you so you decided to spend the night in the hospital wing. 

S.O.S. she's in disguise

S.O.S. she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

The moon had been incredible. More than that. Remus had never felt so amazing and free. He was surprised, however, that he wasn’t back in the shack when he came to. He was shaking when he saw Sirius, James, and Peter staring over him concern written all over their faces. 

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked. 

“There was another wolf. You couldn’t keep away from each other. We have no idea where she came from.” Sirius was wringing his hands. They helped Remus up and were starting to head back to the shack when they saw someone stumble out of the woods and collapse at the edge of the clearing. 

“That must be the other wolf.” James said. The boys all ran, with Sirius supporting Remus still, over to the collapsed figure. 

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. 

“There’s a she-wolf in disguise.” Sirius looked up at James, who could only stare down at your unconscious body below them. 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

[gabessquishytum]

Was reminiscing about a part of my life I sort of just forgot about and decided to make it dreamling. Yolo.

Dream is incredibly insecure about his body. He’s always wearing tons of layers and long coats and doing everything possible to hide how unattractive he thinks he is. Then for his birthday, Desire signs him up for pole dancing classes (they frame it very teasingly, but in truth they really do think it would be good for their brother. They’d never say that to his face though). Luckily they have Death on their side and manage to convince him to at least try out one class.

He shows up very very nervous. He’s wearing exercise clothes, but still as fully covered as he can be and practically shrinking into himself. But the studio is honestly… very comfortable. The lights are dim, and there’s soft music playing and pillows on the ground, and while the poles are very intimidating, there’s not a single mirror in the whole place. And of course, the instructor is so welcoming and soothing, and so patient with Dream’s nervousness (and the nerves of the other students- it’s a little relieving almost to know he’s not the only one insecure and nervous). It also helps, Dream is a little ashamed to admit, that the instructor doesn’t look the way he expected. He’s heavier set, with abundant body hair, and loose torn up gym clothes.

As the class goes on, Dream feels… better than he expected. Everyone else is learning with him, there’s no mirrors to obsess over what he looks like, and they’re all encouraged to be vocal in their compliments and encouragement to each other. Dream starts to feel more in touch with his body, feeling how it moves to do the simple spins they start with. The instructor always reminds them- here, they’re dancing for themselves. If they feel good, then that’s what matters.

And at the end of the class, the students all take a seat on the pillows on one side of the room, and are told to pick a song for their instructor to perform a dance to. He improvs a simple routine, but incorporates the moves they learned in that day's class, while also showing them how those moves are foundational for more complex spins and tricks, and how they can all build together into a cohesive dance. Dream is enraptured, watching how strong and elegant he is, but also how happy and how comfortable he seems. Dream realizes that more than looking any certain way, he wants, so badly, to feel like that.

Hob gets it. He’s been there. He used to be so down and negative about his body, too caught up in his insecurities to really live life. He got lucky that his friend Johanna dragged him to his first pole dancing class. He got even luckier that the instructor, Eleanor, was so kind and patient with him, even as he fumbled and resisted any pushback to his negative self worth. He learned a lot in those classes- he learned how amazing his body really was, and developed an honest passion for pole dancing, which was lovingly encouraged by his instructor-turned-wife. When Eleanor passed, he took over the studio in her honor.

Apparently, he’s following in her footsteps more than he expected… by falling for one of his students.

-����

Pole dancing Hob!!!! We all need a pole dancing Hob!!!!

Dream is surprised to find that he wants to go back to the class a second time. He's even more surprised that he finds the courage to take off his hoodie and do the class with bare arms - considering how much he generally covers up, its a big step for him. He's a little overwhelmed, honestly, and finds himself lingering in the studio after the class is over. He's trying to soak up how the place makes him feel, hoping that he can take some of that feeling home with him.

Hob notices him and the two end up sitting on the cushions together, where Dream admits that he's struggling with these complex thoughts about his body and self worth. He makes some kind of throwaway remark - "I wish I looked more like you, I wish i had your confidence." and Hob chuckles gently. He explains that it took him a long time to be at peace with his body. He spent way too long over-exercising and trying to maintain a physique that just wasn't healthy for him. Now he considers himself to be in the best shape of his life because he's HAPPY, and having a bit of cushioning is just an added bonus.

Dream is a little bit in awe. He's never had an honest conversation about bodies and stuff like that before. He's maybe a tiny bit in love with Hob already, and it only has a little bit to do with his incredible arse.

And honestly, Hob is a little bit in awe of Dream. He sees true courage in his new student's eyes as he takes to the pole each week, learning new skills and even developing bonds with the other students. It's kind of sexy seeing a man confront his fears and experience personal growth. Maybe Hob will make a move... After he's finished choreographing an intricate routine for them to perform, together <3

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Steve slides down the wall as soon as he’s in the bathroom, hands going to his hair, gripping hard as he tries to remember how to breathe.

“Steve?” Robin says. “The door’s locked, it’s just us. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Robs, I look at her and all I see is bullshit, and I know she’s got questions, and fuck, she probably thinks I’m cheating on her, which I’d never do, but she- and Jonathan-”

“Whoa,” Robin says, grabbing his hands. “Deep breaths, Steve-o, we’re gonna make it through this. I will absolutely flirt with Nancy if it helps on the accusation front. I told Eddie the kids like D&D, so hopefully…” she trails off, listening, and they both smirk when they hear Eddie, already in character. “That didn’t take long.”

“He’s a good guy,” Steve says. “And they’re good kids. Mostly.”

Robin snorts. “Mostly,” she agrees. “Listen, why don’t you break up with Nancy? Nothing else happens between the two of you, right? So we tell everyone what’s going on, you pull Nancy aside—I’ll come for moral support if you want—and explain what happens and tell her you can’t see her anymore.”

“You don’t think it’ll mess with the whole timeline thing?”

“Steve. Buddy. We’re telling a group of twelve-year-olds about something that happens four years in the future. The timeline’s well and truly fucked. You weren’t happy with her, not after Barb, right? Because the stories you told me painted you as being miserable.”

Steve sighs. Reclaims one of his hands to run it through his hair. “Yeah.”

“Okay then. And hey,” she says, moving to sit next to him. “Maybe if you break up with her now, you can do something about your crush on a certain someone.”

“Robs, c’mon,” he complains. “Even if I did, what happens after? When we go back to ‘87? Are there three years of memories I don’t have? Do we break up before you and I go back, and pick it up again four years later? And what if we fail and he dies anyways? What then, Robin?”

She leans her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I dunno, Dingus. But hey, I’m here.”

He offers her a half-smile before laying his head on hers. “Yeah. You are.”

A knock on the door startles them. “Uh, Steve?” It’s Nancy. She sounds oddly apprehensive. “Eddie’s doing a great job at keeping the kids occupied, but we’d all like to know what’s going on.”

Steve sighs and pushes his face into Robin’s hair for a second before turning back to the door to answer. “Yeah. We’ll be right there.”

Nancy doesn’t answer. The first time around, it was something Steve had found endearing. She didn’t have time to waste on meaningless words. Now, it irks him a little bit.

“C’mon,” Robin says gently. “You can fall apart again after, but there’s no use catastrophizing over something that hasn’t happened yet.”

He quirks his mouth up at her. “Right, ‘cause you’ve never been dramatic a day in your life.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m a band kid, Steven, of course I’m dramatic.” She begins to smirk. “Besides, not like you mind when it’s-”

“Okay,” he says, but they’re both smiling as he unlocks the door.

They go downstairs and he smiles at the sight of everyone on the couch, enraptured, as Eddie’s crouched on the coffee table, eyes wide, monologuing. Steve casts his eyes around, taking everyone in, and starts to frown. “Where’s El?”

Nancy’s the first to break out of the reverie. She looks around, brows furrowed, then slaps at Mike’s arm until he slaps back. “What?”

“Where’s El?”

“She’s right- oh.” Saucer-wide eyes turn to Nancy. “I don’t know.”

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[strangersteddierthings]

Gut Instinct: Chapter 8 - Sunday

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven] [Interlude] [Chapter eight]

Dustin is not alone. Robin, Max and Lucas are with him, which is a nice surprise. Steve was sure he was going to have to head out and pick them up at some point today. It’s a good thing they all showed up now, though. It’ll probably be helpful to have them all hear when Nancy shows up. To help explain.

“Where’d you pick up Lucas?” Steve asks the question to Robin, but it’s Dustin who answers.

“He came to my house this morning.”

“Yeah, I had questions and Dustin had some answers. I’ll tell you the whole thing if you want, but later?” Lucas asks, and he looks shaken.

“You get filled in?” Steve asks, ushering everyone in the door far enough so he can close it.

“Yeah,” Lucas nods.

Steve leads them all back to his dinner table.

“What’s our problem?” Steve prompts, once all of them are sitting. Which is weird but also pretty cool. Steve doesn’t think more than three people have ever sat at this table at the same time.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Dustin asks.

“Good news first, always,” Eddie says.

“There’s been a second, uh,” Robin flicks her eyes to Eddie for just a moment, “murder.”

Dustin nods grimly and says, “I was listening to Cerebro again this morning and caught the cops talking over the radio. They were found near the trailer park. So, um, they have made Eddie an official suspect. It’s not public information yet, but you’re on the list.”

Eddie makes a scoffing noise and mutters, “Of course.”

“We’re going to clear your name,” Dustin says with such conviction that Steve’s immediately convinced. They have nothing to go on, and if the source behind this is a person with mind powers like El, they don’t really have a lot of hope of capturing them, but Steve believes anyway.

“Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?”

“Well. You’ve got an alibi for last night,” Max says. “And I can lie about what I saw on Friday night if that’ll help.”

“You can’t lie to the police,” Lucas argues, “My mom says we have to always be honest with the police.”

“Well, your mom probably never thought we were going to have to try and get our friend out of false murder charges when she said it,” Dustin argues back and Lucas makes a face at that but doesn’t say anything otherwise.

Eddie, meanwhile, is giving Max a knowing look. Steve wonders what it could be that Eddie thinks he knows.

“What lie could you even tell that doesn’t- It’s not like Ch-Chrissy let herself into my house!” Eddie stumbles over Chrissy’s name.

Max shoots him a look that says clear as day are you stupid. “Aren’t you supposed to be, like, an amazing story teller or something? Figure out the lie and I’ll tell whoever needs to hear it.” Lucas whips his head around to look at Max, surprised, and she shrugs, “You guys wouldn’t shut up about him when you first joined his stupid club.”

“Hey!” Eddie says, offended.

“It’s not stupid,” Dustin says, defensive.

“Do you want me to lie for Eddie or not?” Max huffs, crossing her arms and sitting back to shoot glares.

“Maybe?” Robin offers up, reaching a hand out to drum her fingers against the table as she thinks. “We just don’t know enough right now.”

“Well, the longer we wait, the worse it makes Eddie look,” Lucas says.

“True. What’s your gut say?” Robin asks, and it takes Steve a moment to realize she’s speaking to him. He was so enraptured with everyone else’s back and forth that he forgot he was a part of this conversation.

“Um,” Steve says, trying to think about it. He thinks about Eddie staying in hiding, and nothing in him stirs, so he thinks about Eddie going to the police and confessing his innocence, expecting the mild nausea but it doesn’t come. Neither thought brings a reaction. Which is interesting. There have been a few times that Steve can recall where he’s had to weight two options, and his lack of nausea let him know that either options would turn out okay.

Maybe this is the same?

“Uh, nothing. So, maybe we need more information before we can do anything?”

“Okay, but how do we get more information?” Dustin asks.

“Nancy,” Steve says, an instant reply that he knows is true. He can feel it. Nancy will either already know something, or be on her way to learning something when she finally gets here. “She’s coming over, um, at some time today.”

“At some time. Today,” Dustin echoes back.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.” Steve pushes his grocery list across the table to Robin. “So, until she gets here, Robin, you want to look this over? Maybe add whatever you’ll want.”

Dustin stands up and reaches across the table to snatch the notebook up. He gets to look at it for maybe five seconds before Eddie has stood up and ripped it back out of his hands to pass it back to Robin. “Don’t rip things out of people’s hands. Show Buckley some respect.”

Steve can feel his crush on Eddie growing.

“Was that a grocery list? Eddie’s a suspected murderer and the Upside Down is back, now with an evil mind wizard and you’re writing a grocery list!?”

Steve gives a one shoulder shrug, “I don’t want to be hungry while fighting an evil mind wizard.”

“Unbelievable.” Dustin falls back into his seat, exasperated. “So we’re just going to sit around and wait for Nancy to show up?”

“Yup,” Steve says, popping the ‘p’, leaning back in his chair like he’s unbothered by the fact the Upside Down has returned. It’s all fake, of course, but there’s no point in just sitting around freaking out about it when there’s nothing they can do about it at the moment.

It’s kind of why he was focusing on the grocery list to begin with. What else was he going to do? Lay in his bed and stare at Eddie until he woke up?

Well. Actually, that might have been a good activity, too. Hopefully he’ll have more opportunities.

Max wonders into the living room to watch TV and it doesn’t take too long for Lucas and Dustin to join her on the couch.

“Should we get one bag of potatoes, or two?” Robin asks, pulling Steve’s attention.

“Two, just to be safe.”

“That’s a lot of potatoes for just you,” Eddie remarks, leaning into Steve’s space to look over the list again.

“If it were just me, this list would be a lot smaller. But the kids barge in a lot. Also, there’s good reason to believe I’m not going to be alone in the house this week,” Steve turns his face to smile at him. “You’re here until we can get this all fixed for you.”

“I guess being stuck in the Harrington mansion is better than a cell down at the station,” Eddie says, and Steve thinks he’s joking.

“Ew. Yoohoo? Is this your gross addition, Eddie?” Robin asks.

Robin and Eddie bicker about what’s gross and what’s good and Steve just sits back and watches. It makes him feel warm on the inside that Eddie and Robin get along. Which is what this is. Robin would be a lot meaner if she didn’t like Eddie at least a little bit.

They waste away the morning for the most part. The kids seem to be talking theories. It’s more that Dustin is talking theories and Max and Lucas are either nodding along or tuning him out.

Steve’s glad for the slow drag of the morning. It gives him time to whisk Robin away to talk to her in private.

They go upstairs, to Steve’s room.

“What is it? Did you get a bad feeling in your gut suddenly?” Robin asks as soon as she’s shut the door behind her.

“No. No, nothing like that. I just wanted to, uh, tell you something. And you can’t be loud about it.”

Robin tilts her head and gives him a look, squinting her eyes like it’ll help her see whatever it is he wants to tell her. “What is it?”

“I kissed Eddie last night,” Steve blurts, excited to finally getting to tell her.

Robin immediately lights up, just as excited in turn. She opens her mouth, then thinks better of whatever noise she was about to make. Snapping her mouth closed, she does an excited little wiggle instead and launches herself at Steve. She hugs him tightly and whispers, “oh my God! Tell me everything!”

So he does. Gives a quick summary of the events, leaving out the explicit details because he loves Robin but there’s some things that are just for him. Also, he’s not sure Eddie would appreciate Robin knowing anything about his dick; even if that knowledge is just that Steve touched it.

“I mean… what a turn of events,” Robin says from where she’s leaning on the wall. She had been sitting on the bed, but had flung herself from it with a gag when Steve had said he and Eddie slept in the bed together. “I always kind of suspected he was like us, but didn’t want to like, say that.”

“You’ve thought Eddie might be queer?”

Robin blinks at Steve for a moment before nodding. “The whole school did. It was a rumor. How did you not know?”

“I was kind of self-absorbed in school, Robs. If it didn’t involve me directly, I wasn’t paying attention to it. That includes rumors of who is queer.”

“Right. Well, do you think-” Robin cuts herself off when the sound of the doorbell goes off. “Oh! I bet that’s Nancy.”

“Back to it, then.”

By the time Steve and Robin have made it back downstairs, someone has already let Nancy in.

“Hey Nance,” Steve greets.

“Hi Steve. Hi Robin,” Nancy returns the greeting. “So, what did you need me for?”

“It’s back,” Dustin says. “The Upside Down. That’s what killed Chrissy.”

Nancy, to her credit, takes this information well. Just a quick catch in her breath before she’s nodding gravely. “So Fred’s death is related to the Upside Down, too?”

“Fred?”

“That must have been the second death,” Max says, realizing it sooner than everyone else.

“I was with Fred before he vanished.”

“Tell us everything.”

Nancy tells them how she and Fred talked their way into the trailer park, investigating herself, and how while she was talking to Eddie’s uncle, Fred had just vanished.

“Wait, you spoke to my uncle? How’s he doing? I- I didn’t even think about how he’d be the one to find Chrissy…” Eddie cuts in, voice wobbly.

Nancy’s face goes soft in a way that Steve hasn’t seen in a long time. “He’s okay. He knows you didn’t do this.”

Eddie lets out a noise Steve can’t even begin to describe. It has Steve moving on autopilot, stepping closer to Eddie like he can offer comfort with just his presence. Eddie, however, moves away. Takes one step further away. It freezes Steve in his tracks.

“It was actually your uncle who gave me an idea. Something to check out. I was going to go to the library after this to follow up on that.”

Dustin nods thoughtfully, then says, “Okay. So. What connect Fred and Chrissy? The trailer park?”

“Fred did seem… off, when we got closer to the trailer park,” Nancy says.

“Chrissy was being weird in the girls’ bathroom at the school, though,” Lucas says. “Max said she heard her there.”

Max, for her part, is quiet as she seems to think all this over. “There is something else that they have in common. Chrissy and Fred. They were both seeing the guidance councilor.”

“Oh. Okay. So, two leads,” Nancy is nodding as she speaks, the plan already forming in her mind. “I’ll go the library, and search up the lead Eddie’s uncle gave me, and you guys can go talk to Ms. Kelley.”

“Whoa, hey. It’s not going to take five of us to talk to Ms. Kelley. Someone should go with you.”

“I’ll be fine, Steve,” Nancy starts, sounding annoyed.

“No doubt. It was more of, like, more people would also half the time it took to look.”

“Oh. Right. Well, Robin, you want to come with?”

“Sure. Better than playing babysitter,” Robin grins, then jams her elbow into Steve’s side in what he thinks was supposed to be a playful way, but she’s really bony.

“Guess I’ll just… be here?” Eddie says, uncertain.

Steve turns to Eddie, and says, “Yeah. Um, free reign of the house. Whatever you gotta do to not go insane with boredom.”

Steve offers up a smile and Eddie returns it.

Steve feels his heart do a backflip, just from that. When this is all over, he’s going to see if Eddie’ll go on a date with him. This might have started a little backwards from how Steve’s used to this going, but maybe that’s a good thing.

Maybe breaking that habit will make things different this time.

“Alright. Let’s all meet back here when we’re done,” Nancy says, decisive, and then they’re heading out.

[mins-fins]

something — [ mahae — 엔시티. ]

where it's a usual dooming situation, your good old powder keg that'll result in chaos | now playing ☁︎

mark lee is absolutely doomed.

which, in hindsight, is completely foreseeable. it's a little irrelevant to the current motion of this overly dramatic festivity. if there's one thing your family loves, it's a good party. the guest list is packed with quite literally every patron settled in your neighborhood, ranging from the decades old family friends to the barely perched neighbors who probably only accepted the invite because it they wouldn't have to cook for the night.

and of course, they drag, they drag for so long that mark has become accustomed to staying up late on literal school nights. it was a little bit of a shocker to eight year old mark when he was allowed to tag along to one of your parents' overly excited outings with his eyes staying open past eight pm.

they throw parties for every single occasion, but this one is especially important, because you're home. your parents are anything but lazy, they decorated as if you had come back from serving for your country, in reality, you had just studied overseas for a good half a year.

communication over technology wasn't easy for them, so the moment you got back, they made sure to remind everybody of your presence. the party soon came around the corner, and now.. here we are.

it isn't as if mark didn't see you for a whole year and a half, the attachment you have is.. special, still, the whole occasion instates a feeling of longing he doesn't exactly know the specific origins of.

"are they really giving out gift cards? it's not like you enlisted or something.." mark mutters, pouring lemonade from the large glass jug into a mere cup.

"you know how they are, one year without me and they go crazy" your laughter is pretty, the small nudge you offer mark along the lines of an affectionate gesture.

"they're a little too attached aren't they?"

"normal for parents" you again share another smile with him, rolling your eyes. mark listens as you begin exchanging greetings with many familiar faces, as they again act as if you'd left forever. it was just a year.

maybe mark just doesn't get it.

he clears his throat at the lack of attention, but he can't exactly control the volume of his action, which results in you turning your head towards him. heat immediately coils along his skin, a tint of red spreading across his cheeks. he sneaks a glance peripherally, but you're already looking.

god you look enamored by him.

it's so stupid, maybe mark is just looking at it through rose tinted glasses. you're just naturally like that, the stupid fucking enraptured looks you share with everyone are just that, looks. you don't even realize the extent of your affect, mark is absolutely going crazy.

the jewelry hanging around your neck shines under the light of the barely peeking sunlight, and you straighten your posture as you sigh. "you missed me right?"

mark narrowly holds back his true words, opting for a feigned reply of stubbornness; "barely".

"sure mark" you offer your hand for him to take, and the stubborn front doesn't last for long, the intertwining of your fingers is smooth, soft, an action performed so many times that it becomes it's own trademark.

you glance down at your wrist watch, nose scrunching. "hyuck is gonna be late".

mark assumes his glare must be hidden by the fleeting euphoria of his own eyes. why talk about donghyuck when he's right here holding your hand? isn't mark enough for you?

okay, that's too much, an entitled way of thinking.

he hums instead.

your smile reaches your eyes. "okay, enough about everything else, what did you get up to while my angelic presence was absent?"

"don't be so full of yourself" mark whispers, just barely hears over the feat of childish laughter filling the outside air. "i did what i usually do, got a new job at the huang's ice cream place, made music on my laptop.."

"same hobbies?"

"same hobbies".

your laughter is laced with elation, maybe mark would actually be able to focus if you weren't so pretty. you don't even have to do anything, what kind of a person has a melodic rhythm to their laugh? one that is so pleasant it makes the recipient feel as if they now have to purposefully crack jokes?

"this new color fits you" you swipe your index finger against a single strand, removing his hand and ruffling the rest with your fingers. "and this hat is stupid".

mark frowns, but he then snickers. "chose the first thing i could find".

"green doesn't fit with the atmosphere" in the most hypocritical chess move, you place the hat atop your head, whistling as you level at your best friend with a inquiring glance. "looks better on me right?"

mark sucks his teeth in a feat that isn't genuine irritation. you lean just the slightest bit closer, and mark again takes in your close up facial features. your identical moles and the shape of your eyes, yeah, nothing's really changed, you've always been just as beautiful up close.

it'd be a good time to kiss you.

but mark can't give into his desires so blatantly, not in this huge expanse of a backyard, not while both your parents stand no more than a few feet away, not with eyes clearly burning through the back of his head.

but is it mark's fault you look so kissable?

no, he doesn't think so.

"never" mark attempts to swipe the hat back, but you avoid his hand, a muttered curse leaving his lips as yours turn upward in retaliation. there's a gleam of victory shining behind your eyes, and even with the vexation, mark finds you so.. gosh he can't even explain it. would attractive be the correct word?

"hey, let me keep it for a while okay?"

"y/n".

you shrug your shoulders as you begin walking towards the snack table, a small breath escaping mark in reply. he trails behind you with a smile concealed by his petty anger, your whistling filling the air. "it's my welcome back party!"

see? mark lee is most definitely doomed, he can barely even keep his irritation at a seemingly natural level when it comes to you. you're just too..

"hey, you know jeno's asking for you right?"

mark gets brought back to reality by your words, and he again takes your hand in a rushed moment he can't even explain himself. you pause as you stare, but you don't mention it, simply chuckle. "jeno is obsessed".

"come on, let's go".

absolutely doomed, he won't be able to recover.

lee donghyuck seems to have a much easier time.

it's the same old story, yet he has a high advantage in comparison to everyone else. charm is everything, he's learned that well enough, and he's charming to most.

he's adored by your parents, his immediate toothy grin practically put them in the palm of his hand. is it really that manipulative if it was all natural? seven year olds can't exactly manipulate the adults around them.

they love a good party, and so do his own parents. if not for opportunity to get drunk, but also so they can drag him out without receiving a no.

and the only reason they wouldn't receive a no is because you're the center of the discussion.

"oh you dyed your hair now?"

donghyuck's eyes glimmer in something he can only describe as euphoric, it's completely your fault. all your fault, who gives you the right to have such a pretty smile?

your gaze zeroes in on his black hair, and you yelp as donghyuck almost lifts you from the ground with the sheer force of his hug. "y/nie!"

if it was a usual day you'd complain about the volume of his voice, but you'll give him a pass. he starts with his onslaught of attacks, if the cheek kiss was crazy, then neck kisses can only be described as outrageous.

but those are all regular donghyuck actions, you can barely be perturbed by his uncanny proceedings at this point, knowing him for so long does that to a person. you simply him and lean back, whistling. "okay, okay, calm down hyuckie".

donghyuck simply smiles, feigned innocence behind those fierce eyes. "sorry for the lateness, i had a thing".

"oh i don't care, i missed you".

well that's just lovely.

it's a contrast to how mark sees all of it, it isn't usual for donghyuck to get tripped up by the easiest of things. you're pretty, he can admit that, but anyone with two good eyes can see that. you could look smitten by any little thing, you could stare enchanted by any person (and maybe there's one particular person donghyuck loathes in specific), those aren't anything.

but maybe it's the way you speak that has a tint appearing on his face. you've always articulated your words in a way that could make anyone beam, donghyuck wants to gatekeep them sometimes.

"aww, really, i knew it!"

you stay stuck on the strands of his hair, your index finger twirling a strand. he blinks, yet he manages to keep his composure. he can't give himself away, not while your standing so close. "both you and mark dyed your hair.."

mark. that's funny. why talk about mark when donghyuck is right here? right here for you to admire with his eyes blinking a look of fondness right at you. "oh, so you've seen mark already?"

"mark always comes early".

donghyuck doesn't care that much about mark, shouldn't it be about him now? call him self centered or whatever, but he thinks when he's in front of you, talking about mark is just.. stupid.

"enough about other things, how was portugal?"

his arm comes to link with yours, the press of your bodies together completely intentional. maybe mark will see, he hopes mark will see, donghyuck does like to think of himself as the superior one in this little competition of theirs.

you shrug as you again begin whistling, your ramble starts off with a comment about the country's scenery. donghyuck won't communicate it verbally, but he missed you too, missed your cute little giggles and the pauses in between your detailed rambles. he doesn't think of himself as doomed in the same manner as mark, no, he's the one with a real chance, isn't he?

you cut yourself off with a small laugh as you mutter something funny midway through your story, and you lightly nudge donghyuck. his eyes flitter upward, catching your own in the process.

the glow of your eyes is full of bewitchment. it should be illegal for you to stare at anyone like that, can anyone really blame donghyuck for feeling the way he feels when you stare like that? it's not unheard of to develop feelings for a childhood friend, especially when said childhood friend is so.. lovely.

lovely is the best word he can think of for this.

"are you going back next year?"

"yeah, i'm only around for the summer, i've gotten much too involved".

donghyuck's jaw clenches momentarily, but he masquerades it as uncomfortableness at the flies swirling around him. "okay then, let's make sure we spend good time together this summer".

you hum in reply, laughing at some unintelligible thought in your mind as you again stare at your friend.

donghyuck usually isn't a weak man, really, a mere smile can't render him bashful.

your eyes hold universes that he wishes to get lost in.

would it be so bad to kiss you in the moment?

he presses his own lips together, thoughts steady in his mind.

is it really donghyuck's fault you look so kissable?

absolutely not.

he almost gave in to the desire of being reckless, but his worst nightmare (hyperbole) comes rounding the corner in a feat of a few seconds.

"listen, they're too spicy, you know i don't have a good tolerance" mark's mumble stretches until he glances up and catches sight of the particular scene.

there's a hint of his eye twitching, donghyuck narrowly holds back his own giggle, it's invigorating how mark gets pissed off. he then smiles at the sight of you, even if the irritation slowly slips through. "hi donghyuck".

"mark! it's been a while hasn't it?"

it's only to get a scowl from him, the hug is simply an action he knows will get a kick, but mark can't display such vexation so clearly around you, he knows better than to ruin a party because of childish jealousy. he frowns in your direction, and you snicker, completely oblivious to his genuine turmoil.

"y/n told me he's here all summer".

"yeah i know it's just.." mark's face scrunches as he shoves donghyuck backward, though gently enough that his true animosity is hidden enough. "i was looking for you for like twenty minutes".

"well i didn't run away or anything, i just found him and i missed him so" you roll your eyes, poking donghyuck in the shoulder. mark clears his throat, and you level at him with a look of indifference.

you whistle, observing the lights your parents decided to hang up, knowing this party would go on for longer than it was supposed to. your hands settle behind your back, gaze remaining upward. "it's been a while since it was just the three of us huh?"

reminiscing about old times is the one thing you can't help but do, under the bright lights and surrounded by people you've know for.. forever just brings out something saddening in you.

mark's glare settles, but he avoids donghyuck's eyes. you blink as you stare at him, but then you shake your head. "anyway, i think my mom would be happy to know your here, come on" you nudge donghyuck forward with your shoulder, and there's barely anything behind mark's eyes as he watches the scene.

but before you walk away, you then turn back to look at him, eyebrows furrowing. "mark" you start softly, offering a pinch to donghyuck's shoulder that draws a wince. "come" you motion your head forward, basically telling mark to tag along.

and really, who is mark to disagree?

maybe the two could shut up for once, they could be civil, it's not like it's out of this world.

it's for your sake, they can save the chaotic blow for another time.

[strgrlxox]

pretty little thing.

✟ ꙳ original request here ! i've been so excited to write for college!james and this was the perfect chance 😘💋❞¸

+ ¸ ❞ this is literally just be not knowing how sports/college sports work for abt 800 words ꙳ ✟

he was so nervous beforehand, of course he tried to pretend like he wasn’t but he knew him better than that. it was the first game of the year and james, who got a scholarship for playing this very sport, felt like he was the worst on the team.

when he was still in school, playing against other teenagers, it was easier to be better than everyone else. now, he felt like all his talents were nothing short of average. 

you tried to comfort him as best as you could and it helped most of the time, but right now as you watched james pace around his dorm room, you weren’t even sure if it would work.

“james, it’ll be fine, love.” you smile at him from your spot on the edge of his bed. “you’ll do great, know you will.”

he couldn’t even process your words, his nerves eating at him. so you try a different method, standing from the bed and smoothing down your glittery skirt. you stand in front of him and he doesn’t even look your way until you grab both sides of his face and pull him towards you. lips meeting his because he could always kiss you and make you forget everything––how to stand and how to breathe. sometimes, he’d kiss you and you’d forget about all the air in the world except for what was in his lungs. he filled you with his love and got you drunk off his tender kisses. you only hoped you could provide him the same comfort. you place a hand on his chest, smiling into his mouth when you feel his heartbeat calm down. you release his mouth, still smiling at him, “you’ll do great, jamie.”

and he did. he scored at the last seconds and they won the game. you were so proud.

you had hugged and kissed him afterwards, “i told you so’s” dripping from your lips. he kissed you again, making you feel all dizzy.

he took you back to his dorm room after you promised to stay the night. he’d put you on his bed, the still-fresh adrenaline leaking from his veins––––too enraptured with you and your body to care about the aching in his bones. 

“you were so good out there, angel.” he kissed up your neck, letting his hands trail up your skirt. you laugh at the fact that he was praising you for your cheers when he was the reason the team won the game. 

“no, you were so good.” you try to hold back moans with the way his lips felt trailing on his skin panting out loud instead. “i barely blinked so that i could watch the whole thing.”

he shoots you a look, his eyebrows raised. “oh, yeah? what’d you think?” 

“took everything not to drop my pompoms and kiss you when you scored those points at the end.”

“hmm, maybe you should have just done it.” he smiles into your flesh and it’s contagious. “would’ve loved it if everyone knew that i got so lucky to be able to call the prettiest cheerleader mine.”

he looked at you with lust blown eyes and you couldn’t help but grow excited, even if you knew he was worn out already. “james, you’re probably exhausted.”

he laughed, “not yet.”

which is how you ended up with your legs on his shoulders while he pounded into you relentlessly.

“s'like this is my reward for doing so well, hm?” his tone is so condescendingly sweet. “best prize in the world.”

he told you to leave your skirt on, opting to just pull it up instead of removing it completely. his eyes are trained to the way the shimmering cloth moves as he thrusted into you…seeing you in his colors especially after he won the game did something to him.

“tell me how good i did.” he’d pant above you and you can barely fucking a reply, it’s more of a moan actually…something akin to “so good, jamie.”

“say it again.” he moaned out, the sound making you clench around him. “come on, pretty little thing. one more time, please? needa hear it.”

‘so fucking good, jamie. you did s––oh shit.” your words get caught in your throat when he thrusts into you deeper. “fuck, james you’re doing so good.”

he can’t help but chuckle at how far gone you are, loving how only he could get you like this.

“you like being my prize, don’t you?” he’s teasing and you love it. he’s fucking you out of your mind so you can’t even answer his question so instead you just moan louder while he fucks with every once of his remaining energy.

“god, i love you. my little cheerleader.”

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober Day 12 - Starvation

title: eve or the serpent?

fandom: hermitcraft smp

cw: starvation

~

“Please.”

Cleo growls at him—at Joe, they trusted him, they can't believe that they could ever have trusted him—

“It's safe, I promise.”

“No, it's not,” Cleo snaps, even as her stomach stabs through with lancing pain.

An apple. An apple is all that Joe holds out to her, and Cleo doesn't know if he's the serpent or if he's Eve but they know that to partake would be the end.

“Cleo.”

They had given him their name. That's how much they had trusted him.

They were so terribly, terribly stupid.

Joe was different, she'd thought. They were friends. They were inseparable, as nervous as it made everyone in town.

The artist’s daughter and the púka. What a foolish pairing.

Cleo still remembers when they met—as she strayed a little too close to the forest during recess, kicking a rounded pebble along in the grass, only seven years old and already well-versed in avoiding the fair folk. She carried a cold iron ring, a protective charm in the necklace that was commonplace for children, a salt packet in her pocket and enough knowledge to recognize and keep away from any fairy circles.

This fairy wasn't what she'd expected, though.

He was a little boy, with goat horns and dirty clothes, tears pouring down his face as he tried fruitlessly to pull his leg free of an iron trap clamped around his ankle.

He was bleeding, blood trickling down between his toes, and he blinked up at her with big, golden eyes and she knew that she wouldn't leave him, fae though he clearly was.

“You can call me Scully,” she had said, because of course she had been taught to never give her real name.

The little boy couldn't have been older than six, and Cleo's chest puffed up as the oldest and therefore the one in charge, and she set the fairy free.

You aren't supposed to do favors for the fae, but Cleo didn't know that.

When the boy showed up a week later as she played at the park and helped her spin the merry-go-round, she just thought she'd made a new friend.

He became Joey when he turned up one day with tall ears and a thick tail (they had read an an alphabet animals book the day before, and he had been enraptured with the kangaroo), and she had laughed and told him he was too small to be a real kangaroo, but maybe he could be a joey. She carried him around in a makeshift sling like a mama with a pouch, both of them giggling the whole time.

Everyone in town avoided them. Cleo's father was angry at first, then scared, then resigned. It makes her want to smile, remembering the fear in his eyes slowly fade to tired acceptance the first time Joey had come to dinner, when she was around eleven, and they had caused far too much chaos together without a word of communication between them.

For the most part, it was just Joey and Scully, together against the world. Cleo didn’t mind that she didn’t have any other friends. She had Joey, and Joey he stayed until Cleo was fifteen and Joey was too young of a name (he was a teenager too, hair long and face scrawny and floppy dog ears hanging down to his cheeks) so he became Joe.

“Don't tell him your name,” her father had said, again and again and again, once he gave up on trying to argue with her. “I won't stop you from having a púka as a friend, but never give him your name, all right?”

Cleo should have listened to him. She should have taken that one piece of advice, even if she ignored all the rest.

It was her eighteenth birthday when she told him her name.

They had thought, at that time, that they might be in love with Joe. They hadn't felt so close to anyone ever, so they gave him their name in case something was truly there.

Joe had gone still, his golden eyes blinking owlishly at her (an apt description, his mouth beak-like, his ears pointed and feathery). “Scully—you shouldn't—”

“I don't care,” Cleo had said brusquely. “I'm Cleo. Freely—”

Joe cut her off with a hand to her mouth, head swiveling around to make sure they were alone.

“Don't say that,” he had implored. “Never say that. Freely given can be accepted by anyone, Scully.”

“But there's no cost. You don't owe me anything.”

Joe had just let his hands fall to their shoulders, concern writ in every line of his face. She had always been able to read his emotions so well, no matter what face he wore.

She had loved him, but not like that. She had loved him as her closest friend, her Joe, who had always been there.

Even now, he's here, at their side, at the end.

The traitor that he is.

He had carried them, taking the form of a horse as he so often did, through fields and over streams and into the forest, and Cleo had known the way and had laughed and enjoyed the wind on their face until everything went dark.

They awoke in a labyrinth.

A maze of twisted trees, Joe nowhere to be seen.

She wandered for days. She had so trusted Joe that she had neglected to pay any mind to wherever he took her, and that had clearly been her downfall.

She walked, and walked, and walked, until she was faint with hunger and thirst, until she had collapsed and could barely even crawl.

Days, she thought. It felt like months, but it was probably just days.

Laughter rang from the trees around them, and they covered their ears. This was what she’d always been warned away from as a child—a fairy circle, sometimes a dance, sometimes a maze, always a disappearance.

There was no way back home. There was no way of telling how long it had been out there, if anyone they loved even was still alive.

All she knew was that it had been long enough for her to die, and now—if Joe wouldn’t stop pressing this apple into her face—she will.

She doesn’t want to eat it.

“Please, Cleo,” Joe begs, and they register vaguely that Joe never uses their real name. She had given it, but he never used it.

Not until he was trying to make her do something that would change her forever.

“I . . . I don’t want it,” they say, lacing their voice with every ounce of venom they possess. “You . . . you. . . .”

“I know,” Joe says, and Cleo thinks he might be crying for some reason. There’s a shift, and then their head is in his lap, and Cleo can’t help from melting into him as his fingers gently comb through her hair.

She was nine the first time she practiced braiding on Joe, and he had made it extra long just for her to practice.

He learned how to braid, as well, and she gave up on braiding her own hair and just let him do it whenever the fancy struck him.

His hands are more familiar in their hair than their long-gone mother’s. Isn’t it cruel, to find comfort in his touch now?

“I’m sorry, Cleo, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long. But you need to eat something, we need to get you out of here.”

“But—but—”

She turns away as he presses the apple closer. Her stomach jerks with piercing pain again; her breath is stolen from her lungs.

“I know,” Joe says again, his voice soft. “I know. But you have to. I’m sorry, but you have to. Then we can find our way out, okay?”

If they eat that apple, they might never die. They might be bound to Joe forever.

Is that worse than starving to death?

Cleo looks at the apple out of the corner of their eye, glaring at it. “I don’t . . . I don’t like . . . Red Delicious.”

The apple changes in front of them, Joe just twists his hand a little and it’s green, a little bit of condensation dripping down it in the most appetizing way.

“Granny Smith, your favorite,” Joe murmurs, his free hand still caressing their hair. “We can leave afterwards, I promise. But you have to eat.”

Cleo closes her eyes.

A tear slips out.

Then they take a bite.

[vulpixisananimal]

Hunger: Carrion!Sif

The smell of cooking meat was tantalizing. It made Siffrin’s insides squirm and ache in hunger. It’d been a while since they’d had any good meat on their journey. The last stretch of rocky cliff sides had already frozen in time, any animals that hadn’t escaped had already been picked up by passing birds. Anything that had escaped was smart enough to hide. The group made so on wild berries and dried rations, but the strips of jerky weren’t enough.

He needed fresh meat.

He needed it, craved it, was tempted to shove the chef aside and burn themselves to get it that much faster, but there was no sense in hurting himself, so he waited.

Not a moment too soon, the chicken was served. There were vegetables and stuff on the sides, but those were just garnish so far as he was concerned, flavoring at most. It was put in front of him, a chicken leg quarter, bone-in dark meat, and any remaining decorum was used to keep inside your host’s skin, was used not to bring forth an inner pair of teeth to tear at it directly, was used to keep deluding yourself and everyone else into thinking you were human was forgotten.

Salted umami danced on his tongue, tender flesh giving away easily between teeth. Odile admonished him, but it fell on deaf ears. Isabeau apologized and a chef laughed it off as a compliment. Another chunk of flesh slid down his throat, barely chewed. It’d get dissolved, used, broken down, added to mass. Please, no more waiting, no more. It was enough to not crack your jaw open, to not shove it all in at once. Hungry teeth stripped the bulk of meat from bone in only a few minutes.

“Do you need more chicken, Siffrin?” Isabeau said.

“When I finish this one.” Grease dribbled down his chin only to be reclaimed by finger and tongue. Waste not, want not! And stars, he wanted so desperately.

“Are you not?” Odile said. “There’s basically only bone lef-“

CRUNCH

They spit out cartilage end of the drumstick, a small groan escaping as the soft bone beneath gave way. This was the best part of freshly cooked chicken, it made the bones tender, at least at the edges. Marrow filled his mouth, calcium crunching away better than why fried potato could dream. The inner bone was harder to bite through, but it could be splintered, bent, anything to get at the copper-sweet paste of fresh marrow. The drumstick lasted longer than easily cut flesh, but soon only the hardest potions remained. It was strangely tempting to try to swallow that whole, but it was commonly known chicken bone would scratch up your throat. Best to leave it.

There was still more.

Small bones, cartilage, and gristle all lined the inner thigh. Most was more trouble than it was worth, but there were places where blood had once pooled, dark pockets of rich iron. It was even more tender than flesh proper, only solidified by heat; a treat saved for last.

With only the barely-edible at best parts of chicken left on the plate and vegetables untouched, Siffrin looked up to find the rest of the group staring, their food barely touched. His innards squirmed uncomfortably. “Um… sorry. I, uh…” He squeaked, hiding under his hat. “I was hungry.”

“We can see that!” Isabeau said, trying to say it playfully, but clearly unsettled.

Mirabelle’s expression was hard to read. Nervous, certainly, but almost in the way one would be while watching a tense moment in a show. Enraptured, but horrified all the same.

Odile gave him a long stare and then sighed. “You are awfully pale, and you don’t take hits too well, and seeing you go after those bones… Gems, are you anemic? Here.” She handed her his plate, moving the chicken with a fork—a utensil he’d forgotten to use. “Too much fat is bad for someone my age anyways, and I’d rather you not end up fainting. But gems alive, use the cutlery.”

“Yes madame.”

He reeled it in better for the second course, sneaking his vegetables to everyone else’s plates. For however long it would last, he was not hungry.

This is AMAZING!!! Thank you so much for this, like, genuinely!! I haven't thought about pre-Dormont era at ALL and WOW!!! I'm defiantly tagging @traumaboyexo with this for Carrion stuff!!

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

p5 hs au where they’re mostly all musical theater losers except one day transfer delinquent akira decides to try out for the winter musical and gets the lead male role despite having absolutely no vocal and or acting experience at all and akechi—dedicated to his craft nerd, semi-spotlight hoarder—is infuriated at this, even more so that he was chosen to be this delinquent’s understudy despite readily earning all other male leads prior. to make matters worse akira seems to genuinely want his friendship and everyone else in the department adores him so akechi has to be cordial and their relationship slowly progresses from akechi laying in bed at night weighing the merits of poisoning akira right before opening night to him begrudgingly agreeing to help run lines in the goddamn attic of his uncle’s cafe that was supposedly his residence for the whole delinquent-expulsion thing he’d wedged himself into to him kind-of-sort-of-maybe enjoying his company outside of rehearsal more—platonically, obviously, no really, because goro didn’t even swing that way to begin with, just because he was a broadway geek didn’t make him gay, alright—he’d expected (sumire teases him about this relentlessly and it almost makes him want to pull a poisoning stunt on her instead. but then who would be the show’s leading lady?). and of course, the musical opens without a hitch, and goro sneaks into the audience for act I and wonders why he ever doubted kawakami’s casting in the first place, because akira’s voice is strong and melodic and echoes—yes, it fucking echoes throughout the cheap auditorium, mic and all—and there’s the slightest hint of perspiration upon his brow and goro can see the sheen of the makeup he’d applied to the former’s face long before the show had began, and, in any and all ways, he is the perfect prince eric to sumire’s ariel, and if there’s a something in his chest every time akira sings or acts or dances and absolutely enraptures the audience with his stupidly magnetic everything, goro chalks it up to the magic of theater. intermission arrives much too soon, and he sneaks backstage to revitalize the cast for a stellar act II, and suddenly akira is dragging him to a secluded dressing room, eyes wide and frantic and he tells him that he can’t do this, he’s not an actor, he’s not a singer, and he is certainly not a prince eric and at the end of all this rambling he tells goro that he has to go out there in the next act in his stead because god knows that he was more deserving of the role than akira himself ever was and he’s probably just making a huge fool out of himself and their entire department out on stage and sumire deserves a fellow lead who has far more experience and talent that he could ever provide—and then, there are lips on his. it’s quick and chaste because it is intermission after all, and they’re on a time crunch, but goro knocks their foreheads together, not caring in the slightest about tarnishing akira’s makeup, and they breathe in each other’s being, and, well, akira’s been wanting that kiss for far longer—the first time he saw goro—than he’s willing to admit, and when the former tells him to get it the fuck together because he’s killing it out there and also the crowd would probably beat akechi with hammers if he replaced him because, yes, akira’s performance had been so astonishing and riveting even only one act down so far, he laughs softly, helplessly perhaps, and then he nods, trying desperately not to cry because he doesn’t think he has the time to fix his makeup any more extensively than he already will have to in the next few minutes.

so akechi send akira back on stage to finish the musical, and he watches from the audience once more as the chemistry between the two leads, as well as just about everything akira does, enraptures the whole audience, and their performance concludes with deafening applause. they nearly collide with one another, both desperate to reach the other post-performance, and he hugs akira so tightly and laughs and cheers so loudly that it’s drawing slight attention, not that akechi would ever care about what anyone thinks anyways, and he certainly displays his lack of care for passerby-confusion when he’s pulling akira into a kiss so deep, so desperately-desired by both for so long that they’re lost in each other completely, so lost that they don’t hear sumire’s light, amused gasp or the click of ann’s polaroid, because why would they break a moment they both want to stay in forever? and akechi thinks to himself, maybe he could get used to this guy stealing his roles if it meant he gets to occasionally wake up in the attic above a homely little cafe with a cat purring next to him and grey eyes staring forever into his.

[zeebreezin]

So here’s the thing about Vincent Beverley, right. He’s a manipulative, sensation seeking sadistic little bastard with a career built on indoctrination and light torture. Vincent likes his work and the power that comes from being the smiling face of these things, and he loves his Isobel, and his favorite doctor, and if you’d ask the man, he’d say that’s all there really is to him. Vincent considers himself a pretty simple guy.

And honestly he’s not… wrong? But here’s the thing with Vincent Beverley - that’s not the name he was using when he came down to the Neath.

A Sardonic Charlatan took the name Vincent Beverley as part of yet another con - He’d stolen documentation form some poor soul signing into the navy, looking for a couple years at sea away from his debtors. The whole ‘London is in a hole’ thing did mess with his plans slightly, but well, he’s always been one to adapt.

He was never a good person, not really. Opportunistic and dry, willing to use a natural charm to skirt the law. But he wasn’t a monster. Eventually he fell into recruiting people for some new construction, or scientific project, way out on the western edge of the Zee. After that was finished, the Charlatan figured he’d be heading for the surface, cashing out and seeing how much his stories of the mysterious world below would sell for up above.

Because here’s the thing about the Sardonic Charlatan - they didn’t tell him what was going on.

I mean, why would the admiralty tell everyone on Station V about their project? It was a dangerous thing, something on a need to know basis, but of course there were rumours. Rumours and little distant flashes of light. No one really knew how dangerous stars really were, though, when they were trying to build one.

So on the day when the Dawn Machine turned on, when the chosen few were watching aboard the ships, as the rest carried on on Station V… no one really expected what happened. Especially not a Charlatan who was barely invested in the cause to begin with.

It was beautiful, at first. People crowded around railings and docks to catch a glimpse of the distant light. It was almost sunlight, they said, and after so long in the dark, no one could fault people for getting enraptured. But then people weren’t able to look away. And the ships way out by the machine, casting long shadows in the golden glow didn’t seem like they were going to come back. Then of course, people started to change.

Here’s the thing about the Sardonic Charlatan, though - as self serving as he could be, he wasn’t a monster.

When the people you’ve spent months with start to break apart, bleeding light and hymn from every wound, it doesn’t matter if you share their sailor’s comradery or goddamn patriotism, you’re going to do something about it. Perhaps for the first time in his life, the Charlatan grew selfless as chaos reigned in the birth of new law on Station V. He gathered the less affected somewhere dark, somewhere safe, and made a plan. They’d get their own ship, and they’d high tail it for London. They’d have to know what to do - or at the very least, they’d be safe there.

No one noticed as something began to creep into the Charlatan’s blistered lips, a harmonious lilt that wasn’t there days before. He hid his wounds, he tried to do what was right, and he tried to go back into the calm of the dark - he really, truly did.

But here’s the thing about him, and here’s the thing about her. It was already over.

He knew it, but he wouldn’t admit it. She knew, though, the quiet but witty mechanic the Charlatan recruited personally. She accepted the machine quickly - another love melding into one in a single breath. It wasn’t hard, by the time she found him, collapsed and shivering. Trying to swallow down whatever light he could. It was her words, though, that sealed his fate. Even still, the Sardonic Charlatan went out screaming.

The dawnlight wasn’t kind to him - the Sardonic Charlatan had never really believed in anything before, and it burnt through him without restraint. Whatever his name was, whoever he was before the navy, before this job, he’s nothing but embers now. He loves the woman that saved him, so long ago, but some days he can’t remember the first time they truly met. All that matters is that he’s whatever he needs to be to bring more people into the fold, to be remade, happier and far, far brighter.

Because here’s the thing about Vincent Beverley. He’s a pretty simple guy. Anything else is long gone.

Here’s a lil Vincent dialogue test for making it to the bottom of this post lmao!

“That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? People always seem to think of it the wrong way around! I don’t sell anyone anything, no, not really. I’ll admit it would be easier if I could just offer up a little slice of sunshine to anyone interested n’ be on my way, but… that’ll never really work. Dawnlight’s a powerful, beautiful thing, but there’s nothing like a human touch in this line of work. The secret’s simple: just be whoever they need you to be. A friend, a job prospect, a helping hand, a lover, a bringer of opportunity. The light comes later - and it will come later, don’t you worry. But once you offer sweet, lonely, desperate people just a little kindness? Well, then you’re already halfway there.”

[zoeykallus]

Hi! I love your writing!

You are super! 💕❤💕

Keep it up!💪🥰

How would Crosshair (whole tbb can be too) react to reader who is very nice and smiles all the time? Would it annoy him? Does her smile mean he just can't be mean to her?

👉👈 I sorry and thank you! ❤

Aloha!

Thanks! 😁😊 I'm trying!

Interesting idea.... Sorry you had to wait so long for this, still digging through my inbox like Scrooge McDuck through his money 😅 meaning there is a lot in there...

Okay, let's see...

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - The Eternal Smile

_________________________

Let's start with your favorite...

Crosshair

Don't get the wrong ideas, he can be mean to everyone, even more so to the ones close to him (In well-measured doses, mostly). Teasing is part of his love language.

Before he gets more or less used to it, it will make him feel uneasy at first.

At some point, you will hear a grumpy, "Your smile is cute, but you don't have to smile every time I say something."

You shrug and say, "I like listening to you, I like you, why shouldn't I smile when you say something"?

He doesn't know how to respond to that for now. He will occasionally roll his eyes or frown about it, but he actually likes to see you smile. Crosshair likes you, but he won't tell you that right away. Have a little patience and don't let him upset you, he would never want you to be sad. That's just the way he is.

At a certain point, you are no longer called kitten for him, but smiley face, affectionately of course.

Echo

Generally, he is enraptured by your smile. The first time you smile at him, he warms up and gives you a shy smile back. Echo loves your warm, affectionate nature, and he enjoys that smile.

He likes to imagine that this soft, little grin, belongs to him alone.

"You look so pretty when you smile," he tells you dreamily.

In the background, Crosshair hums, "I wonder what she looks like when she's not smiling."

Echo frowns and says, "Beautiful, too."

"How would you know? She smiles even when she sleeps," the Sniper sneers.

Echo raises his brows and asks dryly, "You watch her when she sleeps?"

Crosshair looks at him, startled, then at you.

"No!" he says hastily and runs off in a hurry.

Echo looks at you again with a smirk. He can't get enough of you.

Wrecker

He is a lively, cheerful guy. Wrecker has a big heart, and he loves people who are kind and loving. In your presence he feels very comfortable, that smile has enchanted him, he can not get enough of it.

Wrecker will do anything to see you smile and laugh, compliments, jokes, small loving gestures. You have his full attention, as soon as that adorable smile appears on your lips, he is like under a spell.

Tech

He smiles back shyly each time. Tech likes your warm nature. Most of all, he likes how attentively and well you listen. He likes to open up to you and share all kinds of new ideas.

Tech likes to be in your company; you make him feel understood. Even though you don't really understand everything he tells you, it feels like you understand what makes him tick, and he appreciates your warm patience.

When he tells you something, and you smile at him, it warms his heart. Apart from echoing, most people stop listening at a certain point or tell him to stop talking, but not you. Tech is now addicted to every little smile from you.

Hunter

He smiles back, of course, clearly, with a wink now and then. Hunter loves your smile, the way it makes your face shine. He may not always understand how you can be so patiently cordial, but he really likes that quality about you.

He feels comfortable with you, feels at home, or the way he imagines the cozy feeling of a good home. Hunter likes to flirt, your smile is practically like an invitation, a welcome invitation. You should expect him to compliment you more often and say nice things to you whenever he sees your smile.

He often brings you flowers from the road when he was out in nature, just to see your sweet, grateful little smile.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@taskfork-archive

@cpnt616

@starwarsnerd111

[fe-fictions]

Help this wouldn’t leave my head: Yuri’s toddler of a daughter gives him a makeover using his makeup. What shenanigans ensue, nonetheless how Yuri’s spouse reacts to it?

(WE LOVE THIS IDEA???)

No one would have ever pegged the mischievous and mysterious Yuri Leclerc for a family man. But that was before he fell head over heels for the Archbishop of Fodlan.

He was enchanted, and it was a wonderful thing. You looked up at him with such adoration in your eyes, and he returned it ten-fold…sometimes with an actual, genuine smile (and in public, no less).

So even with the surprising shift in his demeanor, what pleasantly surprised evryone was the arrival of the young couple’s daughter.

The baby was perfect in every way, and both parents were absolutely enraptured by her. It was incredible to watch the aloof Yuri become a doting husband and father. Especially when she started to get a mind of her own. 

Her first four years flew by, and it wasn’t long before she was running around the monastery, adored by everyone whose classes she crashed (until Uncle Seteth plucked her up and returned her to one of her parents with yet another stern reminder to keep an eye on her…and of course would be ignored).

But there was one day in particular that surprised even you.

And it started when you had your day filled with meetings and bureacracy, but Yuri had himself a day off. Which meant he would be taking care of the young Lady Leclerc on his own.

“Come, my dear. We have a full day ahead of us, don’t we?” He mused, all but scooping her up from her bed before she was even completely awake.

She yawned, a sweet, dopey smile on her lips when she realized it was her father peppering her face in kisses.

“Mornin’, Papa.”

“Good morning dearest one.” He hummed, “Did you know that you and I will have the whole day to ourselves? Well, once Mama gets dressed and ready for the day.”

“I absoluI didn’t know.” She replied with great surprise in her voice, eyes widening at the revelation.

Yuri grinned, tucking a curl of lavender hair behind her ear. “Then you should quickly come up with activities for us to do, today. We only have a single day to ourselves, so we must make it count.”

“What do you wanna do?”

“I will do whatever it is that my daughter wishes to.” He replied as smooth as ever, earning a fit of happy (if not slightly mischievous) giggles.

The pair returned to the ARchbishop’s quarters wswiftly enough, just in time to see you stretching in your seatbed, lazily propped against the pillows in a feeble attempt to get up.

“Mornin’, Mama!”

“There she is,” You smiled sleepily as your husband returned to the bedside, “Is today your daddy-daughter date with Papa?”

“Yeah,” She replied, briefly wiggling out of her father’s arms so that she could sit in your lap. You watched as she climbed in, snuggling into your arms. “But I didn’t know ‘til Papa woke me up.”

“So he surprised you with it? How very sweet of him!” You hummed, strokin gher hair softly.with a thoughtful smile. “And have you been plotting out hwat you’ll be doing with him?”

“I don’t know! He asked me the same thing!” She exclaimed, pointin gback at her dad.

Yuri chuckled, offering a lazy shrug, “Well, there are many opportunities for fun, my dear. We don’t have to come up with them right away.”

“True…you’ll have a full day of joy and delightfun while I’m trapped in meetings all day…it will be….much less fun for me.”

“Don’t worry, Mama. When you have a day off, we’ll have lots of fun, too.” She said sweetly, not knowing that her mother’s duties as Archbishop meant a day of was rarer than any other da in the yaer.

“Thank you pet.” You managed a pinched smile, which Yuri offerd a kiss to your hand and a reassuring grin.

“Fear It won’t be long before you have a day of your own. I’ll call in a few favors.” 

His promise was reassuring, but as a realistic former mercenary, it made more sense to bet on the opposite. There were some things that not even Yuri could pull off…and sneaking in a day off for you had been one of  years.

‘Well, don’t let me interrupt your day. I’ll be dressed and i’ll dress and be out of your hair so you can enjoy your time togther.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Your daughter beamed up at you, giving you one last hug.

Somehow, the two of you had managed to raise a perfectly sweet little girl.

It didn’t make any sense to you, personally, but you weren’t complaining.

Yuri saw you off with a similar barrage of kisses (though these were far more searing, considering he was head over heels for you). 

“All right, then- now that we’re finally on our own, what shall we do?” He wondered aloud, hands on his hips while his daughter bounced on the bed.

“We gotta get dressed too, so we can start our day!” She realized, pointing at him. “I can pick out your clothes, and you can pick out mine, Papa!”

“That is an excellent idea.” He agreed wholeheartedly, “I did raise a daughter with impeccable fashion sense, after all. Let’s get started.”

He led her to the dresser, and after careufl consideration from both parties, they settled on an outfit that Yuri would likely never set foot in public wearing. 

However, the love he held for his daughter transcended all sense of shame or embarrassment. Especially when he knew that the Archbishop alone would get to see this; and that you would likely find it adorable that your daughter wasnted to dress him so badly.

“Okay! You look amazing, Papa!” She decided with a happy grin, “Now you get to pick mine, right?”

“Yes, of course. We shall hurry to your room after I have put my face together; I was so excited for our day together I did not get even a little ready ebfore I woke you. How silly.” He mused, only to elicit a sharp gasp from the young girl.

The epipany had struck, big time.

“Papa!! Can I help you put on your makeup?!” 

“Can you help me…?” He trailed off, the situation suddenly becoming much, much more serious.

You weren’t ever allowed to touch his makeup, after all. It was very precious, very expensive, and something he took immense pride in being able to wear perfectly each day. To waste such an imporatnt luxury to him would be truly tragic.

Ad yet…when he looked into those big, round, sparkling eyes…

Who was he to refuse her?

“Very well.” He finally conceded, “I will allow you to do my makeup, this morning.”

“Thank you, Papa!!” She exclaimed, bouncing away from him and making a break for the washroom. “Oh, I can’t wait!! I’m so excited to make Papa pretty!!”

“I’m sure you’ll execute flawlessly.” He followed behind her, feeling quite proud of his daughter. She was awfully precious already, but when she got passionate about something, it was a sight to behold.

She would without a doubt be formidable once she got older.

The pair of them were in teh washroom for quite a long time; so lnog that they didn’t even realize that you’d come back to the bedroo. Your initial mission was to retrieve a number of important documents Seteth tasked you with reviewing overnight. 

What madeyou stay was hearing excited voices behind the washroom door, and the distinct sound of giggling that was notable only when she was scheming something with your husband.

Intrigued, the papers were temporarily forgotten, and you went to the door, knocking gently.

“Is everything alright in there? It sounds like something very important is happening.”

“Everything is fine, my love. Did you forget something?”

“Initially I did, but it sounds like you’re having a lot of fun, in there. Am I allowed to take a peek?” You heard them whispering back and forth, debating whether or not his wife and mother of his child should be given entry to their secret mission.

Eventually your daughter giggled, and you heard her little hand on the door knob.

“Okay, Mama. Papa said you can come in if you say ‘please’.”

“Very well…may I please come in and see what you two are getting into?”

The door swung open, and two lilac-haired faces were beaming up at you. Though one face looked…rather different from usual.

A hand went to your mouth, his eyeliner dragged across the sides of his face, well past his eye (and over and under it). His eyeshadow had become blush, and any other form of makeup he had stashed away had been applied to his face, clothes and anywhere his daughter could reach.

“I see you’re speechless.” He quirked a lopsided eyebrow, “It appears you did even better than I thought you would, my dear. Your mother’s fallen in love with me all over again.”

“You’re so pretty, Papa!!” She grinned, arms open wide, “You’re sparkly!”

“It appears you did use some of the shinier powders, didn’t you.” He mused, running his fingers along his cheek and finding the shimmering dust on them. 

She nodded vigorously, before throwing herself at her mother’s legs. “Did I do a good job?”

“Oh, my dear, you did a wonderful job.” Your smile was broad and sunny, making Yuri’s heart skip a beat. You were so lovely when you were happy.

Particularly when it was at his expense.

“Perhaps we should get him cleaned up before the day starts, though.”

“What? Why??”

“Because I’m afraid he’s so beautiful now, it’ll make everyone else jealous when they see him.” Your argument was sound and reasonable, making her gasp with the realization.

“You’re right!! He’s already pretty…we don’t want them to be jealous he’s even more pretty.”

Yuri pulled her back to his side, pecking her cheek with a big, purple-pink lipstick-y kiss. 

“Let’s do as your mother says, then. She’ll need a wardrobe change before she leaves us behind.”

“What do you- oh.” Your off-white Archbishop’s gown was now covered in the residual colorful powders that your daughter had caked herself in, her sweet hug accidentally coating you in a rainbow of makeup.

It was Yuri’s turn to laugh.

“All right, that’s enough fun for the morning. Come along my darlings, let’s get ourselves cleaned up. I’ll have a messenger inform the counsel that you’ll be a bit delayed.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held his daughter to his hip, guiding the three of you from the washroom with sheer happiness giving him the sweetest glow.

There was nowhere he’d rather be than with his family.

Even if you were all smeared in makeup. 

(When Seteth saw what happened to the gown later that afternoon, Yuri received a harsh scolding).

[cainluvr69]

Let Me Tell You The Story Of A Rainbow - Chapter 7

Previous Chapter

Figaro: Sure, why not. I don't dislike how stubborn the two of you can be about this kind of thing.

Snow: Then we shall have you accompany us, Figaro dear.

White: Put that good nature up where everyone can see it!

Snow & White: Yaaaay!

Figaro: Alright. We're good and virtuous wizards, after all.

The twins cackled gleefully and disappeared into the depths of the exhibit hall with Figaro, and Murr and Shylock followed after them.

Murr: Hey, wouldn't it be easier for us to curry favor with the masses if some sort of crazy incident happened?

Shylock: Certainly, if the opportunity arises. But to desire such an opportunity before it arises…

Murr: Is that bad?

Shylock: No. You may desire whatever it is you wish. One never truly wants something bad to happen, but the seductive song of "What if?" is still irresistible.

Murr: What a good attitude! Let's imagine all the exciting possibilities together!

Shylock: Fufu. Unfortunately, that's not our role to play this time. It's far too easy to let any expectations slip our minds as we get enraptured by the extraordinary exhibits on display.

Murr: True enough! It'd be a tragedy if I didn't enjoy the fun stuff right in front of me and miss the chance to enjoy them forever!

Shylock: Of course. Now, shall we be off? Let us enjoy what we've been invited to enjoy to our hearts' content.

Faust was the next one to step forward, and a step behind was Lennox's large shadow across the floorboards.

Faust: I'm not exactly interested in doing this, but…if we're on official business, then that's that. I don't want to deal with the aftermath if something happens and they blame us for not dealing with it.

Lennox: It would just invite even more misunderstandings. You don't want the younger wizards getting yelled at during an emergency, right?

Faust: That's not why I'm doing this.

Lennox: The security arrangements are fairly rough. Shall we see if there's anywhere that needs an extra hand or two?

Faust: Yeah… This is a pretty big place, and it doesn't sound like all of the magic items on display are clustered together. Let's start from the top floor and work our way down.

Lennox: Alright. I'll stay with you.

Faust: Thanks. If you see anything weird, let me know so I can check it out. While I'm doing that, you can keep other visitors away from the exhibit in question while making sure they don't panic for no reason, and guide them out in case anything bad happens… Or…wait. Why are you going with me? Go somewhere else.

Lennox: But if I'm going to do anything, I think it'd be best for me to do what you just said.

Faust: …

Lennox: Should I not?

Faust: …Whatever. Do what you want.

Lennox: Yes, I most certainly will.

Nero: Hey, Riquet, I heard there's gonna be a buffet at the party on the last day.

Riquet: A…"buffet"…?

Nero held up a pamphlet to try and show Riquet what he was talking about, but Bradley snatched it out of his hands. He scanned it and whistled.

Bradley: Means y'get to pile yer plate with nothin' but stuff you like. You can take whatever you want and eat whatever you want. Lessee… Damn, they're gonna be serving a whole lot. I don't mind attendin' parties if it means I can eat my fill of good grub.

Riquet: Only eating the things you want to… Would one not fall into depravity?

Bradley: Hey, what's wrong with a little depravity here and there? You should do whatever you want and only what you want. You've never had the chance to eat in a place like this before, yeah?

Riquet: That's simply not right. Besides, with so many options, I'm not sure I'd know what to pick…

Nero: It's fine t' not know what you want. There's so many fancy n' interestin' things to pick from, after all. The time you spend decidin' what you want is another part of your dinin' experience.

Riquet: …Really?

Nero: They'll have your favorite bread pudding too, I bet.

Riquet: Will you be the one making it?

Nero: Nah, not me.

Riquet: …Oh, I see.

Nero: They've got chefs way better at what they do than me here, y'know.

Riquet: But I like your cooking.

Nero: Haha, I'm honored. If you see anythin' you like at the party, lemme know. I can make it for you back at the manor, too.

Bradley: Hell yeah. The more the Central tiny asks you to make, the more we've got on the menu.

Riquet: Yes!

Mithra: I know what a buffet is. It's that thing where if you don't eat every single dish in front of you, you'll be killed…

Mitile: They do not kill you at a buffet! It's perfectly fine to only serve yourself what you want.

Mithra: How much of what I want? Is it fine if I eat everything all on my own?

Mitile: I don't…think that's against the rules, but still, it's not polite to keep it all to yourself. You're supposed to share it with everyone.

Mithra: Well, we'll see how I feel about it. Where's this "buffet" being displayed?

Mitile: The buffet isn't one of the exhibits…

Owen: Literally whatever. I have exactly zero interest in that pathetic of a reward. Can I leave now?

Rustica: Why not wait to decide if you have no interest in it after you look around a bit first? A reward that pleases you more than a party or a lavish feast might just fall into your hands.

Chloe: Right, right! It'd be a waste if you let something like that just get away from you.

Owen: There's no way there's going to be anything I like in a place like this.

Chloe: Then where would it be?

Owen: …Somewhere?

Rustica: If it exists somewhere in the world, then it's entirely possible that this is that "somewhere". You might find it today, or perhaps tomorrow. Or in a hundred years or so.

Owen: That sounds awful. Can I sew that noisy mouth of yours closed?

Rustica: I think I'd rather have my ears sewn shut, actually. Having my ears blocked off means I'd be able to hear the sounds that come from within me, yes? I'd be very excited to hear what my heart has to say to me. So please, feel free. Sew me up.

Owen: …You're really incomprehensible.

Chloe: Hey, it looks like everyone else already left! Look, Cain is waving at us.

Cain: Heeeey! Don't get lost in the displays!

Owen: Excuse me? I'm not lost.

Rustica: But would you like to be?

Owen: You can't get lost on purpose.

Chloe: Rustica's great at getting lost.

Rustica: Fufu. I sure am. But perhaps… It's because I want to be lost. Thank you so much, Chloe.

Chloe: Huh, did I do something for you?

Rustica: But of course… It's because I have someone who will look for me that I can become lost in the first place.

✦✧☾✧✦

Arthur: This statue…

Cain: Oh, Arthur. Something up?

Arthur: Look at this.

Cain: This statue's pretty freaky. It's got so many tails coming out of it. What's this thing's name… "Oz"?

Oz: …Is something wrong, you two?

Arthur: Lord Oz! N-no, it's nothing…

Oz: Did you see this sculpture?

Arthur: Ack!

Cain: I thought it was a sculpture of some sort of wicked beast, but apparently it's a representation of the "historical" Oz. They'll say basically anything about you, huh?

Oz: I have no interest in the form others claim I have. Let them create whatever they wish.

Arthur: Still… It's downright unacceptable that your name is so closely associated with monsters that are barely even human, and that exhibitions of such creatures continue to be put on display. I will speak with the host and have him do away with this statue in the name of truth…

Cain: Hmm? Hey, this statue's title has a number next to it. This is Oz number 9.

Arthur: What?

Cain: Let's see, this one's #1… 2… 3… Looks like this whole section is nothing but sculptures of Oz.

Oz: All of them, you say… There are roughly twenty of them in total.

Arthur: These must have been created after truly extensive research into the legends surrounding you, Lord Oz. Such hard work and skill should be celebrated, I agree, but…

Oz: The tail and shape of the skull on this one are reminiscent of the Leviathan.

Cain: No matter what each one looks like, they all have a sense of dignity and majesty to them. Seeing this many Ozes lined up is still a pretty impressive thing to witness. Hey, Oz. Can you stand over there for a sec?

Oz: …Like this?

Cain: Yeah, that's perfect. At the center of this forest of facsimiles of the one and only Lord Oz stands the real deal… It's like you've become part of the artistry on display here.

Arthur: … Even so. These grotesqueries don't resemble Lord Oz in the slightest. The real one is the coolest by far.

Cain: Haha, you got that right. The best one is best for a reason!

Oz: …

Arthur: I know… Lord Oz, could you stand over here next?

Oz: Alright.

Arthur: What do you think, Cain? Now it looks like Lord Oz has vanquished a terrible beast…

Cain: Hey, you're right. There's a real air of power now! Like he's the absolute pinnacle of Ozes.

Arthur: The other ones aren't Lord Oz.

Cain: No, see, I mean the vibes we've got going on here. Hm… I don't want to abandon this other position, though. Hey Oz, this time can you go over there?

Oz: …

✦✧☾✧✦

Faust: This is an impressive collection of rare gems from all five countries… It's not like I'm a geology expert, but this is still a sight worth seeing. They're all high-quality stones, too. I think they said the host is an art dealer? He's got quite the eye.

Lennox: The security is very thorough as well. As Lords Snow and White said, our host must be quite powerful on the political stage.

Nero: Yeah, these rocks are all on a completely different level from the ones y'might see in a town marketplace or in stands on the street. They're all valuable enough to deserve bein' on display in an event like this.

Faust: Leno, look at this. It says this ore was mined in Southern Country. It's beautiful.

Lennox: Most of the South is still unexplored. There's a lot of talk about mineral veins in areas that don't see a lot of people.

Bradley: Oho, so you're sayin' there's a whole treasure trove no one's managed to get their grubby hands on yet? Sounds like pioneerin' could make you a ton of cash.

Nero: Brad… I didn't realize you were lookin' at this too. I thought you'd left already.

Bradley: If I up and left the hags would make my life hell. Even if I'm jus' goin' through the motions of helpin' out, I'm still goin' through em. Way more important is that these gems are lookin' pretty valuable. And you're sayin' they're just rollin' around in the South?

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