#I SHOULD HAVE MORE ARTS COMIN SOON

[fangirlies]

Jump your bones- pt. 3 (x.t)

Pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader

Summary: when xavier continues to make unusual remarks, you put your theory to the test to see if he bites the bait.

Warnings: 18+!! Minors do not interact. F masturbation. Use of toy. Dirty talk. (please let me know if I should be aware of anything else)

here you can find part 1 and part 2!

added skin by Mac bc.. well.. “and now she comin’ closer up she goes, she wanna jump my bones” and “girl, you my paintin’, you my art installation, gonna fuck you, put you on the wall, all I wanna do is show you off” I mean doesn’t get more xavi than this. ok I talk too much sorry enjoy the filth :)

"Mmm xavier, just like that," you quietly moaned as your fingertips reach past the hem of your panties and into the warmth between your thighs. You close your eyes, picturing Xavier's long, thin digits gliding through your folds. Your unoccupied hand is caressing your breasts while pausing at the nipples and pinching it in between your thumb and index finger. The image of his full and luscious lips flashes through your mind, prompting you to bite down on your own. His groans were now permanently ingrained in your memory from your last encounter with him in his art shed. He consumed your thoughts, and in all honesty, you were okay with it.

After rubbing the bundle of nerves a few times, you desperately wished Xavier was hovering over you. You inserted your fingers inside your quivering hole that was practically begging to be filled. The wetness that the mere thought of him produced made it simple for you to glide in. Your mouth was parted and eyes screwed shut as you quickly shoved your fingers in and out of you while trying to catch your breath. The squelching sound of your pussy getting fucked filled the room. You could now feel the start of your second orgasm of the night pproaching.

“fu-ck xavi.” Your toes curled as you added a third finger just as you increased your speed. You remember the obscene sounds that flooded his art shed. The way he left a wet kiss trail down your collarbone. The way your naked body was propped up on top of his desk, eagerly explored by his sizeable hands. His raging red cock oozing pre cum solely for you.

"Yes, Xavier, right there, yes, yes, yes"

Breathing has become erratic as you recall his dark eyes, which were typically green, roaming your body as if you were the most delicious meal he’s ever laid eyes on. You recall as he thrusted himself in you for the final time while he filled you with his warm seed. This was the thought that caused you to unravel around your fingers again.

As you recovered from the aftershock of your orgasm, you took a moment to steady your breathing. Since your initial encounter, this was the third night in a row where you took matters into your own hands—no pun intended—and tried to satisfy your own needs. You considered messaging him to sneak into your hall, but you rejected the idea since you felt it either sounded desperate or felt "too soon."

Little did you know that Xavier is thinking of you as he sleeps in Hamlet Hall, on the opposite side of Nevermore. It wasn't like the usual dreams he had on a daily basis, no. These images of you touching yourself to the thought of him plagued his mind prior to your rendezvous with him in his art shed. His visions of you had begun ever since Ajax told him about your desire to jump his bones during one of their nightly smoke sesh. He always suspected you fancied him when you could hardly ever maintain eye contact. But when he discovered your secret, he wondered if you weren't just a quiet girl after all. He wondered if he could bring out a side of you that no one else knew about. And having accepted his own challenge, he arrived at this. Lying spread out on his bed in his boxers with a developing erection as he heard your throaty moans and eyed your soft, dainty fingers pumping in and out of your dripping pussy. Even though he despised the sticky sensation between his legs when he woke up every morning, the sight of you begging for him in the emptiness of your room somehow made it worth it. Every other night, Xavier practically expected seeing you in his visions. And that evening, when he finally had you all to himself in his art shed, it was everything he had anticipated and more. He was even more aroused by the fact that you continued to fantasize about him after that night while finger fucking yourself. You were all he had been able to see for the past three nights, and he had already begun to schedule his trip into town to look for a fresh pack of briefs.

Obviously, he was aware that he could never discuss the dirty visions he has of you. He undoubtedly understood that what you were up to under your bed sheets at 1 in the morning was entirely private. On the other hand, he seized every chance to mildly tease you about it.

He sat next to you for breakfast before the rest of the group gathered at your regular table the morning after a long night of watching you crumble at the thought of him fucking you in different positions.

“Good morning, tiny," he greeted you, trying desperately to keep it together as a smug smile formed on his face. When you caught his glance, he noticed your flushed cheeks and it made his head swell even bigger than what it already was. cocky bastard.

The only thing you could muster was a " good morning " fearing that if you looked at him for a moment too long, the heat that you were all too familiar with would soon appear.

“What’d you do last night?”

Your head immediately snapped up from looking down at your breakfast and into his emerald eyes.

“What- what do you mean?” You questioned. He couldn’t possibly know. Could he?

“I mean, did you have any exciting plans last night?” As he battled a smile, you could see his tongue prodding the inside of his lower cheek. He relished watching you tense up. He adored seeing the crimson color that your cheeks always took when he was near by. He took pleasure in making your mind race.

You bit your lip and tried to escape his intense gaze, "Oh. . . well, um- not really."

"That's no fun," Xavier responded, closing the distance between you two with his arm around your shoulder. "I bet you would have had a lot more fun if I had actually been there," he added in a whisper so close to your ear that you felt his peppermint breath brush your skin. You choked on the iced coffee you took a sip from as he spoke.

Enid's cheerful self abruptly interrupted the two of you as she rushed over to the table. "Hiya, you two love birds! I see the two of you are getting very cozy— you know, just say the word and I’ll make you matching snoods!” the blond girl continued to her never ending conversation as she jumped from one subject to the other with Divina. How she had so much energy at this hour of the morning puzzled you.

Yet, you swiftly turned your attention to Xavier. He was talking to Yoko and Ajax about tonight's smoking session at this point, but you couldn't help but think about the remark he had just made moments before. What did he mean when he said "if he had actually been there”?

You kept thinking about this mornings exchange all day long—during class, dinner, and even while taking a shower—and it still didn't make any sense to you. As you rinsed your mouth with water, you spit out the extra toothpaste and made your way into your room again. Enid was seen putting together a small bag as you left the bathroom.

“Where are you going? It's late," you so blatantly stated.

“I'm spending the night at Ajax's. I won’t be back until morning,” she joyfully said as she twisted the doorknob, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” She wiggled her eyebrows before vanishing through the door on the other side. She was utterly obsessed with her boyfriend, truthfully it made you sick. But when Enid stayed over at her boyfriend's dorm, you treasured the nights you had to yourself. And just like the previous evening, you had plans to let all of your sexual frustrations out. This time, before settling into bed, you searched your bedside table until you found the vibrating toy you had managed to smuggle in. You inhaled deeply before turning it on at a low setting and slipping off your panties.

You couldn't stop picturing Xavier's morning appearance. His messy up-do. His drowsy eyes. The way he leaned in and put his arm around your shoulder. His scratchy, low voice that made it impossible for anyone to hear what only the two of you should know. His comment popped in your head once more. If I had actually been there.

If I had actually been there.

It was almost immediately clear. You almost felt foolish for not noticing it sooner. As you stopped to consider, you turned off your vibrating toy. Ajax periodically brought up Xavier’s visions whenever he spent time in Enid and yours shared dorm room. How sometimes Xavier would deem them as ‘insanely too realistic.’ At this point, your thoughts were racing almost as fast as your heart. You couldn't help but question whether you were thinking things out of context or if everything made total sense. Was he having visions of your nightly routine?

There was only one way to find out, you thought. You put your theory to the test as you fiddled with your newly purchased pearl ring on your index finger. You powered your vibrator again, this time increasing its level. Images of Xavier filled your mind once more. Now that the toy was on your eager clit, it sent sparks throughout your body. You let out a soft moan as you imagined Xavier starting to flick your now swollen clit with his hot, wet tongue. You could almost hear him uttering the filthy vulgarities to you in his painting studio again: "Are you going to take my entire dick in your cunt like a good girl too?” Remembering the hunger in his tone, you immediately felt a searing sensation in your core.

“wish you could see the mess I make for you every night,” you spoke into your empty room. The pressure between your thighs forced your hips to stutter. With your free and wandering hand, you grabbed a fistful of your linen bed sheets. So much so that you came to terms with the mark your ring might leave.

You were now so close to the edge that it was difficult to control your trembling legs. Even though it wasn't your first time using your vibrator, you were truly amazed with how quickly it always brought you to release. The intensity of your toy caused you to cry in ecstasy as your toes now curled, your chest rose, and your eyes were glued shut.

“I’m yours xavi, gonna- gonna cum for you.” Once you reached your peak with just one person in mind, your juices started to seep out of your hole. Your lips were spewing out his name like a mantra.

Xavier was seemingly sound asleep the entire time all the way in Hamlet Hall. He was quietly whimpering as he laid on his stomach, a firm grasp on his pillow as he gently rolled his hips into his mattress. Thanks to your filthy mouth, he was in a pool of his own cum. Your name rolled off his tongue as your gaping cunt came into clear view, which was now dripping for him. While he's seen you touch yourself before, this vibrator was a new one, and he knew he'd pay for it the next morning.

He most certainly did when he awoke late with yet another pair of ruined underwear. He skipped breakfast and hurried through the hallways to get to History of Greek Mythology in time, then slouched in his normal seat as the professor welcomed the class. He exhaled a sigh of relief as he scanned the classroom for you. When he peered at you, a faint smile began to form at the end of his mouth. Your hair was pulled back into an almost perfect bun as you sat at your desk with your chin resting on your palm. His gaze traveled up your body and to your familiar fingers. Yet, before he turned away, his typical arrogant grin reappeared reminiscing your whimpers with the faint sound of vibrations. Xavier shuffled in his seat, trying not to get too worked up in the midst of the first period.

After an hour of learning about The Trojan War, you sprinted to catch up to Xavier as the bell rang, bypassing the rest of your classmates.

“Thought you weren’t going to show for first today,” you smiled innocently up at him as your hand reached for his wrists.

"And miss Achilles' fight in the Trojan War? How could I?" He scoffed sarcastically before exposing his pearly teeth.

You rolled your eyes at his remark and chuckled in response. You seemed to appreciate his amiable banter, which was one of his best qualities. He always kept you on your toes.

"Nice ring, by the way," he continued and your eyebrows raised almost instantly. You fought a self-satisfied grin that threatened to creep up on your face. His arrogance finally caught up with him. You had him precisely where you wanted him. “Do you know what pearls symbolize? Being innoce--”

“Xavier, I’m not wearing a ring.”

As he spotted the mark your ring had made on your outstretched hands but no pearl in sight, his face flushed. He looked back at you, and you responded with a fake expression of perplexity and a grin. He was caught, and he was aware of it.

“Did- did I say ring? I meant to say necklace. No, earring. Fuck- I must still be woozy from waking up late. Do you think they’re still serving breakfast?” He made a pathetic attempt to change the subject. Scratching the back of his neck, he added "I'm starving."  You absolutely relished being the one who made him tense up for a change. You could understand his usual confidence now; it was difficult not to be cocky from this vantage point.

“How do you know about my pearl ring?” You questioned while raising an eyebrow at him and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“You always wear it, what do you mean?"  He managed to let out a nervous laugh.

"I just got it. And if my memory serves me well, I've never worn it to class.” In front of you, Xavier deteriorated into a sweaty, frantic mess.

“So… how can you possibly know about my ring? Unless of course you've been in my room without my knowledge." 

You could see the gears inside his head turning. He searched his mind for an excuse. An explanation. Anything.

He groaned before giving in, "What do you want me to say, y/n," realizing he had been caught. He must have experienced a massive increase in blood pressure as you approached his face when he felt his knees buckle. Before speaking, you leaned fairly close to his ear.

"I want you to admit that you watch me cum for you every night. While you're at it, tell me how hard it makes you." 

Xavier was taken aback. He looked about, wondering whether this was all a dream, and even contemplated pinching himself. Were you actually in front of him, gazing intently into his lingering green eyes, fully aware of his obscene visions? He could feel his dick twitch in his uniform pants, and he took shallow breaths as a result of your exuding confidence. You were messing with him. And he could see you enjoyed it. It was thrilling to see him fold in front of you. Just like you wanted to, you finally had him tightly wrapped around your finger.

In the back of his throat, Xavier could feel his breath becoming heavy. "Stop it. Stop talking,” he said in between gritted teeth.

A cunning grin plastered on your face now and he felt instant regret for his previous comment, “Watch me. Oh, wait, you already do, don’t you?”

He witnessed his confidence fading and knew something had to be done.

“I’ll make you shut up. You’d like that right?” Xavier drew closer to you as he made every and any effort to suppress the urge to pin you up and fuck you beside these lockers right now. "But I'm not someone you can easily get rid of."

“Who said I’d want that?” It was your turn to be quick on your feet for once. Your scoff reached his ears, and he could feel his heart, which seemed to swell into a mallet and swing against his rib cage. “You know, for someone who loves to perv over me, you surely aren’t paying much attention to what I say.” You teased him even further by running your fingertips over the hem of his pants. There were several goosebumps visible in the slight gap where his uniform shirt had ridden up and revealed his lower stomach.

“I- I think that’s called being distracting. . .”

You shook your head, your laughter echoing down the almost completely empty corridor." Well, whether you're there or not," you spoke, reaching up and fixing the collar of his uniform. Under your touch, he involuntarily shivers, and you notice his adams apple bob up before returning to its usual spot. “You know what I’ll be up to tonight.” Before locking eyes with him for the final time, you bite down on your lips and offer a sweet smile. His usual mint-colored eyes were lust-filled and dark. He would never confess that the image of your precious, delicate fingers throbbing inside of you was the reason for the little damp spot that was growing in his underwear.

Your figure as you worked your way to your next period was carefully followed by his gaze. Vanilla, your typical intoxicating fragrance, still lingered. His cock began to quiver once more as a result of your swaying hips, and he eventually looked down to see the raging boner you had triggered yet again. A cocky, lopsided grin crept up on his face. He recognized your baffling little act. After you realized he had been watching last night, he was in awe of the show you had put on for his eyes and his eyes only. He has always figured that you are much more than the quiet girl everyone makes you out to be. And although his cheeks were now cherry red, he secretly felt almost proud that he was the only one who knew what a complete slut you were. And you will be his slut tonight.

A.N: my sweet and beautiful friend, @baziutawrites, deserves the biggest shout out for helping me on this one!!! Your patience and thoughtfulness never goes unnoticed. Oops forgot to add crazy dirty mind. This has easily become one of my favorites and I have you to thank for that my lovey. Thank you thank you thank you!!!

for the bestie that sent in this idea— wow. is all I could say! i wasn’t planning on writing a part three and much less was I planning to take it in this direction so kisses to you! 🤍🦋🪴🧚🏼‍♀️

Requests are closed at the moment however— inbox is always open! Share your thoughts! Talk to me! Get something off your mind! ✨

[nathanbatemanfucker]

summary: never wanted love, just a fancy car.

pairing: cowgirl!reader x cowboy!din

contents: 18+/nsfw/smut, cowboy au, typical Wild West violence & values (murder, stealing), flirting, pining, perceived unrequited feelings, yearning (if you squint)

wc: 4k

an: part two comin at yaaaaa. these two are so special to me. reader does have a code name in this that she uses, so if your name is scarlet sorry in advance!

series masterlist | writing masterlist

ch 1: takes one to know one

You don’t discuss the logistics or practicality of sticking together, you just do it. After meandering in Strawberry a few days longer to garner more money and supplies the two of you head southeast.

Din has a tent. You’ve gotten used to traveling as light as possible and staying in structures that already exist so as not to draw attention to yourself. But you already feel safer traveling with him. You feel yourself loosening up in the wake of his companionship and competency. And in that, you find a discomfort you’re not ready to unpack.

The town you end up in after dabbling in Strawberry– Cheyenne– is the closest thing you’ve seen to a true city. There are talks and whispers of New York and all the structure and opportunity it brings. Bustling with thousands of folk, buggies, art, and theater. Not to mention proper plumbing. But, settling down isn’t an option right now– or ever—you quickly remind yourself, as not to get your hopes up for something that doesn’t exist. Besides, you’re not sure you could ever imagine yourself working a steady job. Staying put in one place sounds so…stagnant.

Cheyenne is markets in back alleys, crowded streets, and a view of the sea. You’re grateful for the cool, salty air of the coast during this hellish summer. But the city has its cons: mixed in with the salty air is the stench of pollution that comes with such a populated place. Its lawman force— ever present and large— works to you and Din’s disadvantage. The work you do is harder in a place like this but the spoils will last you ten times over than in places like Strawberry or Annesburg.

You and Din have taken a room at an inn close to the edge of the city. You’ve just returned from a bath down the hall, one that was well overdue. Din’s already dressed in sleeping clothes, his hair wet and slicked back from his own bath. For just a moment you wonder what his hair feels lik. If it's as soft or thick as it looks. Whatever spell that is breaks when he closes his eyes as you enter in just a towel, turning over in the bed.

There’s nothing there for him, not that you can pick up. It shouldn’t matter, there’s nothing there for you either. He’s your partner, life has been so much better with him at your side already. It runs smoother, it feels safer. The fuzzy, unfocused picture that you were living in sharpened. Why would either of you even think to jeopardize something that works so well with the simple thought of more? You won’t.

“There’s a big wig in this city. Robert Leroy— folks call him Bobby,” You say to distract yourself from the sinking feeling in your stomach.

“What’s he got to do with anythin’? We’ve got our targets.”

You and Din had stopped at the jail as soon as you’d entered the city, eager to pick up as many bounties as you could. It earns you some trust with the lawmen and gives you an excuse to meander the city at any time, asking questions to get the lay of the land and search for real targets. This time it was easier than that, but it doesn’t mean you won’t maximize your time here, exploring every possible avenue of income.

“Bobby is the reason they’re our targets. I used my charm on the sheriff, he says Bobby’s the one who put the price on their heads. We get them and maybe we get invited to that big fancy party that’s next week.”

You aren’t able to see it, but Din frowns, teeth gritting at the mention of using your charm. He should be used to it by now, and it should never bother him. But in the recesses of his mind, there’s no denying that it does. None of those men deserve to look at you, let alone witness your charm.

“Party,” Din repeats, sounding skeptical.

“It’s at his house. His mansion. The one full of expensive shit,” You explain as you slip into the only thing of your mother’s you have left— an old, scratchy nightgown.

“You’re still not sellin’ it, girl.”

“We can’t pass up all the riches in that man’s house, Din. You’ll have to deal. I’ll charm, you’ll steal and we’ll leave this place,” You insist as you slide into bed next to him, facing away so that your backs are just a few inches apart.

Din’s body radiates heat and despite the sweltering heat, you stay beneath the blanket with him. Sometimes if the two of you sleep close enough to the other, you’ll wake up tangled in his arms the next morning. Neither of you say anything about it, going about those mornings as if they’re any other. And maybe they are.

“Do we gotta?”

“Strawberry’s reapings will only last so long,” You reason, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“You charm, I steal,” He repeats his version of your words and you can hear the mirth in his sandy voice.

“I just said that.”

“Did you? I didn’t hear,” He stretches, snuggling further in the mattress.

“You’re full of shit.”

He snorts, shaking his head, “Go to bed, girl, we’ve got busy days ahead.”

Din was right— the next week the two of you work from sunrise to sunset capturing all the bounties you’d collected from the sheriff. Some are easier than others, frequented black markets or popular bars for folk that run in your lifestyle.

But there’s one that’s tedious to catch; Stagecoach Mary, a notorious cowgirl who you’ve always admired all holed up in her little shack that rests in its own little bayou just outside of the city. The shootout with her eats up most of your ammo, and a bullet ends up grazing your arm. Din gets Mary hog-tied and strapped to his horse before he comes to check on you. He’s deathly quiet like he always is, but you can feel the urgency in his movements. He removes your button-down without asking, using some of the water in his canteen to cleanse the wound before he covers it in salve and wraps it.

“You alright?” He asks quietly as he helps you back into your shirt.

Your eyes go a bit wide at the raw sound of concern in his voice, but you quickly brush it off, “S’just a scratch, I’ll be just fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Din,” You say gently, and though it stings like a bitch, you aren’t going to say differently. The last thing your resolve needs is him fawning over you, worried about your health.

His gaze raises to meet yours, eyes narrowing to appraise you before he sighs and starts towards his horse. Mary is quiet on the ride back thankfully, and when you drop her off at the sheriff’s office, you get exactly what you two have been working so hard for. Bobby himself is there– the sheriff had told him about you and Din, how promising your skills had been so far and he wanted to thank you both personally.

He looks like money, with frills and shiny leather shoes, his hair slicked back with a pomade that smells like pine, ““I can’t thank you fine people enough. She’s been a real thorn in my side.”

You take the hand he’s offered, shaking it daintly, “We’re happy to help Mr. LeRoy, no one should have to leave in fear.”

Leroy squeezes your hand before bending to kiss it, “Please, sweetheart, call me Bobby.”

You giggle softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “Bobby, then. I’m Scar. This is my partner Djarin.”

Din blinks in surprise before quickly schooling his expression into the impassive mask he’s so good at. It's the first that he’s heard of your name. He knows that this is part of the charm, knows that you wouldn’t give this man– or any man– your real name, but curiosity blooms inside of him. Had you just picked it randomly? Did it have any deeper meaning? Is it close to your real name?

“Scar? As in Scarlet? What a precious little gem,” Bobby runs his hand down the length of your arm, turning to look at Din with a glint of jealousy in his eyes. “Djarin, bet you never get enough of this sweet woman’s charm.”

“We aren’t— she’s my workin’ partner, s’all,” Din says firmly, though the way that he clenches his jaw says otherwise.

But who is Bobby to tell a grown man how he truly feels? Especially if he can reap benefits. He grins, turning back to look at you, “Well I’ll be hog wallered, I thought a dime like you’d be taken, Scar. If that’s true…I’m having this grand party in just a few days. Come, the both of you.”

“Oh, we couldn’t Bobby!”

“I insist!”

A sly grin spreads across your face and you smooth your hand over his, “Well if you insist. We’ll be there.”

A few nights later, after spending the days in fitting rooms, shopping (and stealing), you and Din are finishing up getting ready for the party in your inn room. You peek around the partition to make sure that he’s dressed and your mouth goes dry. He’s in a sleek black suit, the silver accents of his belt buckle and cowboy boots glinting in the last rays of sun that flood the small room. He looks incredible, his hair wet and slicked back, skin scrubbed completely clean. You lean back, bracing yourself against the wall as you force those thoughts out of your head. A distraction, you need a distraction. You look down at your dress, toying with the skirts– perhaps your distraction could be in distracting him.

“How do I look?” You ask as you step from behind the partition, holding your arms out as if to present yourself.

Din simply stares at you, and you’re about to tell him to forget it when he finally speaks. “You look—“ He stops, going quiet for what seems like forever before he clears his throat.

“What, is it? I look bad, don’t I? It’s stuffy, but we gotta look the part.” Your head tilts as you turn this and that way, watching the skirt flutter as you twirl.

“You look—it’s good,” He supplies, turning towards the mirror to fiddle with his tie. He swallows, ignoring the way the fabric of his tie sticks to his sweaty hands.

You turn to look at him, frown deepening as you smooth your hands down the intricate corset of the dress, “You sure? I need him to look at me, and if it’s not pleasin'—“

“It’s plenty pleasin’, now finish up and let’s go.”

You and Din rented a carriage, standing out to others invited would just make this evening worse. The ride– like most of your traveling with Din– is quiet, and you fiddle with your fingers, forcing yourself not to pick at the polish you’d gotten down for the occasion.

The mansion is grand, all cream with pillars and statues so delicate they look fit to shatter if you look at them wrong. You’re guided inside by men dressed in impeccable suits, hor devours and glasses of champagne pressed into your hands as you make your way through the expansive foyer and down the stairs into an even large backyard.

This is something you could only imagine in those moving pictures you’ve only had time to see once or twice. There are tables full of food and alcohol, droves of people dressed to the nines dancing and laughing and eating. And while you’re impressed, disgust accompanies it. The excess when there are so many who don’t have enough to make it a week. You’d seen plenty of unhoused folks on the streets as you and Din explored Cheyenne and this party could feed them all for days on end. You swallow your disdain for everyone here by focusing on the goal and painting a smile on your face as you breeze through the crowd. Try as you might, you can’t find Bobby so you park at a table that’s moderately far from the various groups of others.

“Maybe he hasn’t come out yet,” You whisper to Din as you pretend to look over some of the food. It looks so fancy that it’ll make you sick.

“Stay here and watch for’em, I’ll see what I can find out.”

Your eyes don’t leave him as he skates through the crowd easily and your mouth turns down in a frown when he’s stopped by a beautiful woman. To your surprise, he doesn’t blow her off, smiling as he begins to talk to her. You’ve never seen Din like this before. In the short month or so that you two have been together, you’ve been the lead on charming as all the places you’ve been in teem with men and their testosterone. You aren’t sure what this feeling is that rises in your chest as you watch the woman Din is talking to throw her head back with laughter. What you do know is that you want to end. Your feet are moving you towards him before you can think logically about it.

“Djarin, could I speak to you for a moment?” You say in your sweetest, most polite voice— emphasis on your southern drawl.

The woman he’s speaking to gives you a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.

Din excuses you both, walking you over to a quiet spot beneath an ice sculpture that is surprisingly intact despite the heat of tonight’s air, “What is it, girl?”

Delicately as not to draw anyone’s attention, you remove your arm from his grasp, mouth pressed into a thin line, “What the hell happened to ‘you charm, I steal’?”

“She’s been in the house before. I was gettin’ the lay of it. You ain’t doing much charming if you’re chewin’ me out, are you? Look who it is.”

Bobby has finally made an appearance.

You narrow your eyes at him but stay silent. Din just stares back, unphased and you eventually give up, slinking off to do your part. To charm. Once you’re by his side, Bobby stays close to you like a bee stuck in honey– it's annoying really but this life has given you incredible acting skills so he’s none the wiser.

Lucky for you he gets distracted by some bigwig oil men who start to throw around some big numbers. You stand by his side, listening politely– gathering the names of these men just in case you ever run into them again– until you grow bored. You excuse yourself to the powder room, assuring him that you’ll return shortly as you leave the sweetest kiss on his cheek. You feel the way he shivers against you, his eyes cloudy as he nods.

Not long after you’d gone to talk to Bobby you’d seen Din slip out of the crowd and into the house. It may be a pain to find him a place this large but if you’re caught it’ll be realistic to play a dizzy, turned-around maiden.

As soon as you’re out of sight you spit, wiping your mouth with your sleeve in a move most unladylike as you try to find Din. The halls are empty, it seems as if Bobby’s staff is either occupied with entertaining guests or off for the evening.

“Up here, girl,” Din calls from above you, and when your eyes meet he holds up a sack that looks fit to burst. The smile that spreads across his face is different than the one he’d given the woman he talked to early, this one is genuine and it makes your heart flutter.

“How’s it going?” You ask once you make your way up to the stairs to stand beside him.

“Good, last room we got left is his office. C’mon.”

You follow after him closely, keeping your steps light like a cat so as not to draw any attention from below. When the two of you turn a corner down the final hall which holds Bobby’s office, there are two guards— one blonde, one brunette— standing outside of the door that is gilded in gold. You roll your eyes at its gaudiness but step forward with wide, guileless eyes.

“I’m sorry you two, it seems we’ve got lost trying to find the powder room. Could you help us?” You bat your lashes at the two men, standing up a little taller to push your breasts out.

“Back the way you came, down the stairs, to the left,” the blonde one says, unaffected by your attempt at charm.

Nevertheless, you try again, getting a little closer to the brunette, whose eyes have had a hard time staying on your face.

You gaze up at him with puppy dog eyes, “Could you maybe walk us? I mean— we are lost.”

You raise your hand to fiddle with the distracted guard’s tie, but the first one’s hand shoots out, wrapping tightly around your wrist. You gasp, looking over at the guard in feigned offense, like you’re some helpless maiden– like you wouldn’t slit his throat if your knife wasn’t buried under so many layers of fabric.

“It would do you best to walk away ma’am or I’ll have to call the lawmen,” The blonde says, his grip tightening around your wrist until it makes you wince.

Din takes a step forward, his voice so low and rough it sends a welcome chill down your spine. You don’t have to look at him to know how terrifying he looks right now, “No, it would do you best to let her go or I’ll have to crush your windpipe.”

“You threatenin’ me, yokel?”

You lean closer to the brunette guard, grimacing as you say, “Well this ain’t gonna end well is it?”

His eyes widen for a moment, flickering behind you and you know that Din is moving, already going in for the kill. You do your best to pry your hand from the other guard’s grip but it is tight, and as you struggle the one in front of you struggles to get his gun. As soon as your hand is free you reach for his neck, planting your feet so that you’ll have the strength to snap his neck. There’s a loud crack from beside you before you can get your hands in the right place, and your glance over to Din, seeing the way he followed through— the man's face is red and limp, the blood vessels in his eyes busted.

You regret getting off track because it seems the guard still alive is successful, getting off one shot that flies up into the ceiling. Refocusing, you knee him in the stomach, and his gun clatters to the ground just as you get your hands around his neck and twist as hard as you can.

“Fuck,” You breathe as the second man’s body hits the floor. His gunshot will absolutely draw attention, you and Din need to move quickly.

“In and out, no safes, whatever is unlocked and out in the open.”

You follow his instructions with no hesitation, stepping over the two bodies and moving through Bobby’s office with ease. There are solid gold paperweights, stacks of bonds, maps of train routes and what they’ll be holding, and even a few stacks of money in drawers. It's a jackpot if you’ve ever seen one and the two of you share a look of wonder before kicking it into gear to get out of there. You can hear the footsteps of lawmen rumbling through the house and give Din the signal to move into the room across the hall– it's another powder room. The two of you squeeze into the shower, listening intently as the lawmen call to each other, trying to figure out where you’ve gone.

You hear a voice say, “They must’ve gotten by us. Comb the streets.”

That works perfectly in your favor, and you grin over a Din, knowing that the streets are not how you plan to escape. As soon as the coast is clear, Din grabs your hand, leading you the opposite way of all the lawmen and house staff that have started towards Bobby’s office and bedroom. The two of you sneak out a side door and make your way toward the bayou in the backyard. You’d already set up a boat there to make an escape— no one would expect it since you and Din had rented a carriage to arrive.

He helps you step in the boat, grasping the hem of your skirts so that it’s easier for you to step in, and joins you as soon as you're settled. He doesn’t know how to row— not well at least— so you grab the oars and get to work. Your horses are strewn up to trees not too far from here and afterward you’ll collect your belongings from the inn and leave Cheyenne for good.

Din has started to count the money he retrieved, thumbing through the bills with his steady fingers.

“I pocketed a few things here and there while I waited for you— mostly watches but some wallets too. This should be a lot, we could rest in the next town for a bit if you wanted,” You whisper into the night.

He nods at you but doesn’t stop counting, pulling out a few gold bars you imagine he got from a safe. Once he’s finished counting he restarts, wanting to make sure he’s right.

“This is enough to get outta this,” He mumbles once he’s finished.

You think you’ve misheard him. “What?”

“This enough to get outta this,” He says again, looking up at you. You’re too busy rowing to gaze back at him and he takes this opportunity to look at you unabashedly, something he never lets himself do. It’s foggy enough that even if you were to notice his eyes burning into you, he could play it off, blaming it on the wispiness in the air.

Though you both look ridiculous, stiff, and dolled up for this party even as you row diligently through the muggy bayou, everything about you still shines through. His eyes are syrupy slow, following the curve of your jaw, the swell of your cheek, the line of your nose.

“Din?”

“Hmm?”

“Outta this profession, you mean?” You repeat the question he hadn’t heard as he got lost in you.

He clears his throat and sits up, staring into the fog, “You can’t tell me you never thought about it. Slowing down with a little patch of land, few animals and crops.”

Sure you had– on your loneliest days you’d let your mind wander. You let yourself dream about a life like that with someone. When Din came into your life, those dreams became a little more specific no matter how many times you tried to push them away.

Your brows shoot up as you finally look at him, face twisted in surprise, “You want to settle?”

“I said I’ve thought about it. This is just enough to get far enough that no one knows us. We’d need a lot of money to get everything for a stead. Not to mention makin’ it sustainable.”

This is the first time you’ve ever heard him talk like this and though you’ve only been doing this together for a month or so, you’d think it was something he would mention before entering into a partnership with someone. But hell— he still doesn’t know your name. It's worked so far, hasn’t it?

You make it to where your horses are, Augustine and Cresida look at you both expectantly, as if they’ve been waiting all day and have places to be.

“You’re serious,” You say in disbelief as he helps you out of the boat.

“There’s no reason for me to lie, girl,” He starts to shed his layers, removing the suit jacket and the crisp white button-down in favor of his long-sleeved undershirt. “You’ve never…”

You fish the pair of jeans you stashed on your horse out, hiking them up under the huge skirt of your dress before you take a knife and cut through it. You easily cut through the fabric of the tight corset, letting out a relieving breath.

“I have. Here and there. Didn’t see a point for it if it was just to be alone,” You murmur, shrugging into your shirt.

He’s quiet for a moment, before whispering into the night, barely heard over the symphony of crickets and cicadas, “Different now, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Everything’s been different since meeting him. As the two of you mount your horses and start off into the night, your mind can’t help but wander back to that key detail— this man wants to settle down with a wild, nameless woman like you. Maybe that says enough. Maybe it’s all you’ll need.

ch 3: eyes full of stars

series taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur, @lesbianhotch, @ivyheliotrope, @campingwiththecharmings, @frogers, @juneknight, @obscurexsorrows

[paleparearchive]

Reason for Anger

Bazille's Peaceful Tea Time 4★ story (2/3) ( 1 - 2 - 3 )

Location: shop (morning) ; atelier (morning) ; park (evening) | Characters: Bazille, Renoir, Monet, Sisley

Bazille: I see, the one with the grape pattern is out of stock... I liked it. Then I'll go with this chic leaf-patterned letter set. Ah, right. While I'm at it, I should buy that as well…

—

Renoir: I've done something bad to Bazille. I guess the letter was ruined after all… I used more buckets than usual today because I had a lot of brush on my hands.

Monet: Me too… I used a lot more brushes than usual and left it at that. Bazille always tells me that with a harsh tone…

Ah, Sisley! So, what 'bout it!?

Renoir: Was Bazille in our room?

Sisley: No, he wasn't. It looks like he went out.

Renoir: I see…

Monet: … He'll come back, right?

Sisley: I mean, I think he will… He works here, after all.

Monet: R-Right… Ah! But what if he wants to change rooms or he won't paint with us anymore!

Sisley: I-I guess that's not going to happen…?

Renoir: But we've been bothering Bazille so much that we became so spoiled, right?

Sisley: … Uhmm, well then. I'll try to find Bazille and talk to him.

Monet: Please do it, Sisley!

—

Bazille: (Ah, is it that late already? I thought I was just going to relax a bit.)

Sisley: Ah! I found you, Bazille! To think you'd be in a place like this…

Bazille: Sisley? So you came.

Sisley: As expected, you know what you're talking about. You weren't in your room, so I came looking for you. Everyone… is worried, you know.

Bazille: I bet. Monet was probably saying something about me not coming back because I was mad at him.

Sisley: … Hahaha. You both reflected on it.

Bazille: Of course. If the victim is us, we can still do something about it, but if it extends to other people, it'd be a problem. I'm hoping they'll become able to get things in order before that happens…

Sisley: Huh, I thought you were angry at them?

Bazille: I'm not angry at them. I'm just disappointed.

Sisley: Is that so?

Bazille: Yeah. If they would listen to me, wouldn't they have fixed it long ago when we were at the art school? There's no point in getting angry at them. I already know that it's useless to say anything. Generally, it's less stressful for me if I just get on with it and do it myself.

Sisley: I-I see… But then, what are you angry at?

Bazille: I guess at myself for letting my guard down, knowing how bad they are at cleaning up.

Sisley: At yourself…?

Bazille: It was my fault for not noticing the brush and falling. I dropped the letter because I didn't go to put it out first.

Sisley: That's an inevitable thing on both sides, isn't it…?

Bazille: But still. Because of that, the letter I wrote with the letter set you gave me got ruined.

Sisley: Fufu… Thanks, I'm glad you liked it.

Bazille: Yeah. I even saved it to send it to my parents for their anniversary. I went to buy it, but they were out of stock. It's a shame. Well, I got another one I like, so I'll send that to my parents.

—

Monet: It's been so long... Bazille ain't comin' back!

Renoir: Right. And Sisley's not even there yet. Did we piss him off that much this time…?

… We need to apologize properly.

Monet: Yeah. You're right, we need to do that. I won't be satisfied…

Uuuuh. I don't like just waitin' 'round! No, I'm gonna go find him!

Renoir: Ah, wait, Monet! I'll go too.

—

Bazille: Well... It's time to go back to the museum.

Sisley: Yes, you're right. The sun will be setting soon.

Bazille: Yeah. It's about time those guys had a chance to reflect on their actions too.

[inventors-fair]

Two-Faced Runners-up of the Halloween 2023 contest! ~

Congrats to @horsecrash, @real-aspen-hours, and @snugz as our runners-up for this week!

@horsecrash — Morphic Trickster

I'll be honest: there were two faerie-oriented cards in this pool, and I knew that one of them was gonna get up there and one of them was gonna also be praised, and I just think it's funny that we had two faerie transformation cards. Not surprised, but—well, to be honest, a little surprised. Let's take a look at this aspect! It's certainly a little more mean-spirited, but there's nothing wrong with some jerk faeries. The flavor text is spot-on for sure, and wow, Insects? That's a great choice.

The multikicker and the ability that comes from it is a great choice to really sink mana late-game or just make one problem creature a little pest, OR to give yourself some extra aerial advantage later when you gotta swing for it. The multikicker wording seemed odd at first but you used the right wording for that. With the changing part of it, Eccentric Apprentice says you can drop the "gain" off that ability. I think overall this is a fun, versatile card that plays into some mischievous aspects of its color/type that aren't super easy to capture. Unlike Steve, the Recently-TF'd Insect.

@real-aspen-hours — Amoeboid Gift

There are two main wording tweaks for this card. Firstly, I would make this an "as it enters" rather than "when," although I couldn't tell you precisely why. I suppose just for reaction's sake. Secondly, Arachnoform tells us that Embrace can be worded: "Enchanted creature gets +3/+3, has trample, and is every creature type." And also Reject should have "loses all creature types" after but whatever—those are some weird ones. The concept: solid. The card: really strong in limited and would probably be a bulk rare. The feeling: genuinely horrific.

I know that you wanted this to have the creature lose all abilities, and you know what, that would've made it a much stronger rare, but I want to focus on the strengths of this card. Besides being a slammin' good time for combat tricks and aggro Simic strategies, you nailed the art description and nailed something I wouldn't have thought about this card otherwise. I would've said that this was more of an actual-Simic card without knowing the thoughtless annexation of the amoeboid in question. I can see the gunk-drowned scream frozen on the soldier's face beneath the translucent body that is soon to become their body forever. It's grotesque and, like you said, deeply unsettling. Great show of transformation's complexities on a solid body of a card!

@snugz — Brazen Banner

Doesn't it feel good to go back to basics? This card's a pain in the butt and thank goodness it's not common. These days, you never know, but still. I think this card shows a little historicity and a return to Magic without being nostalgia-bait or pandering. Flagbearing is a pretty complex pseudo-mechanic as it stands. You gotta start somewhere, though, and the target is right there. The ability to block stuff implying that this thing sits back and takes the hits is kind of sad for it, actually. I feel bad for a creature that doesn't even exist yet.

And I would've liked to see more flavor here, honestly. Not necessarily flavor text, but: where do you imagine this card taking place? What do you see happening to this determined soldier? Are they proud to carry the banner? Does the banner stand unfurling in the wind? To be honest, I thought about the Tarkir banners, and a young warrior with their hands gripped around a pole so ancient that the wood is indented with other finger-marks of generations past. But it could be a makeshift rebel flag just as much, a hooligan's mark running through the city. What's it to you? What's the line between nobility and novelty? I'd like more of that—from every card that ever gets submitted, for sure, but here especially where the resonance feels just on the cusp.

Commentary's a-comin'! @abelzumi

[pepperf]

I posted 1,294 times in 2022

That's 325 more posts than 2021!

192 posts created (15%)

1,102 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lochrannn

@bending-sickle

@ponyregrets

@bethanyactually

@wheresmytowel

I tagged 1,172 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#the umbrella academy - 262 posts

#tua - 259 posts

#diego hargreeves - 225 posts

#lila pitts - 162 posts

#dielila - 140 posts

#diego/lila - 138 posts

#david castañeda - 71 posts

#tua s3 - 59 posts

#tua s3 spoilers - 48 posts

#tua fanfic - 48 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#''and i listen to the sound / of the trucks as they move down / out on 95 / and pretend that it's the ocean / comin' down to wash me clean''

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

No.

283 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#4

Hey, parts of North London I know well! So the places they visited in today’s Dracula Daily entry are all still there, and relatively unchanged since Victorian times I think, aside from the first:

Jack Straw’s Castle:

This is a massive white-painted pub at the top of Hampstead hill, now closed. In Stoker’s time, the building looked like this:

It was badly damaged during the Blitz, and rebuilt in the 60s. The current building looks like this:

See the full post

385 notes - Posted September 26, 2022

#3

My dearest darlingest TUA fic writers and fan artists: let me start off by saying that I love you all, I do, without bias or judgement, and I appreciate all the hard work that you put into whatever it is that makes your little hearts go pitty-pat.

That said, I have noticed an alarming trend recently: Diego is shrinking! He is getting smaller and smaller, in every lineup and fic description, inch by inch he is getting more and more petite, and I begin to fear that, at this rate, by this time next year he will have vanished entirely.

So, for your edification, I have put together this handy-dandy height reference chart for the Hargreeves siblings:

See how Diego (all 5′11¼ delicious inches of him) stands, taller than his sister Allison (5′8′‘), just slightly shorter than his sibling Klaus (an even 6′), and on a par with his brother Ben (5′11′‘)? See how he towers above his littlest siblings, Viktor (5′1′’) and Five (5′7′’ but still growing if he’ll only cut back on the caffeine)! See how he’s only a few inches shorter than his tallest brother, Luther (6′4′’)! Let us celebrate him, tall, proud, and erect (no, wait, wrong kind of fic...), and lofty!

I thank you for your consideration.

697 notes - Posted April 19, 2022

#2

See the full post

1,272 notes - Posted June 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A love letter to the co-conspiritors

They have many names—beta reader, friend, Oh Fuck You—but you know who they are: they're the person who is as rabid as you about a ship or a character, the one you DM with your most twisted headcanons, the one who agrees that YES, he SHOULD be tied to a chair and slapped in the face—that she SHOULD be allowed a little tragic backstory, as a treat—that they SHOULD be roommates who are secretly pining for one another...the one who hashes out with you, at past midnight, how soon is reasonable for people with superpowers to have sex after one of them has been shot in the leg.

They’re the person who reads your fic before you send it to anyone else, and raves with you about that plot point that you COULDN’T WAIT for them to reach, or points out where you’ve forgotten that they were at the bar, not the library, so you need to remove the reference to book stacks, or pokes you to finish the goddamn next chapter because they want to read it, okay?

Fandom would not exist without them. They enable and encourage. Some of them are also fic writers, and you get to enable them right back. Some of them create fan art, or meta, or text post edits, or run prompt fests, or edit wikis...some of them are simply just as in love with the same thing that you are and want to feed the squee.

If you’re lucky enough to have someone like this in your life, you’ll know how much impact they have. It’s different to getting comments and kudos (wonderful though those are!), because they come in before the fic is finished, sometimes even before it’s started, and say ‘yes, do it!’. The fact that I've written so much for Community and The Umbrella Academy is completely down to @bethanyactually and @wheresmytowel respectively, and I count myself incredibly lucky to have them both in my life (and not just for all this, but also because they’re both incredibly lovely and smart and fun).

It was Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day yesterday (Aug 21st), and it made me think that we should also give a shoutout to the co-conspiritors, because without them, an awful lot more fic writers would be stress-scrolling through tumblr instead of working on their WIP, and there’d be so much less fic in the world.

1,945 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ask-the-phan-site]

Phan Cam: Heart to Heart and Hand in Hand

>December 25, Christmas Day...

>Chrono Rabbit in Akihabara.

Alright, everyone, all together...

Happy Holidays!

>My parents and their friends, including Panther’s parents, rented out the entire restaurant for a Christmas party for us Phantom Thieves and some of our other friends.

Thank you, Dad, for this party.

Jonny: You’re welcome. It’s just a shame Adi had his own plans.

Yeah, same for Makoto. They and the rest of the Future Avengers went to a Holiday party up in Attilan. Mom went with ‘em.

It’s not so bad. Me and Pete still came. We wanted to give you our gifts in person.

Skull: (feeling a little happy) Thanks, Harry.

But Makoto did get you a nice gift before he left.

Skull: Yeah, prime seats for an upcoming soccer game. Nothing World Cup since they’re finished, but still a good game.

Okay, enough small talk. It’s present time.

Skull: Whoa, girl. There’s still a few more guests comin’.

Really? I thought those two kids were the last ones to show. (points his thumb at Lavenza and Jose)

I am aware that there are more guests coming. Most of them were invited here by the best friend of the Trickster and one family was invited by girl who makes art with her movements.

I hope they get here soon. I was told they would be in Tokyo because his father’s pen pale lives here.

I still can’t believe you invited that kid and his family over here.

Violet: Please be nice, Dad. It’s Christmas. What do you have against him, anyway? He’s such a nice young man.

Violet’s Father: I still think you’re a little too young to be in a relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I like him. He even comes from a military family. I guess after all this time... I still think of your sister.

Violet: I know, Dad, I miss her, too. But you have to trust me. I can’t stay in the nest forever.

Violet’s Father: I know. Just be careful. I still want to see you as often as I like.

Violet: I know, Dad.

>There was a knock on the door.

Violet: I think that’s them. They said they were close by and would arrive soon.

>With that, Aunt Erica answers the door.

We’re here, everyone!

Hey, the Hausers are in the house!

You don’t have to announce us like that.

Violet: We’re just happy you could make it.

Yeah, I guess.

Don’t tell me you’re still shy, honey. And it looked like you two had so much fun at the Gateway Arch.

Mr. Hauser: (laughing a bit) To be fair, Connie, it was just them at the time.

>Vince was getting a little embarrassed and Violet couldn’t help but smile which made him smile too... which lead to Violet’s father giving him a glare... which earned him a glare from Mr. and Mrs. Hauser... and the sudden sound of someone jumping in after the Hausers.

You’re plus one, I take?

Duke: Yeah, he just happened to be in the neighborhood.

Snake Eyes: ...

Violet: Anyway, I’m so glad you’re all here. Mr. Hauser, is your pen pal joining us, too?

Mr. Hauser: No. He said he wanted to, but he said that he and his brother who he hasn’t seen in a long time have a lot of Christmases to catch up on. But they said they might join us for New Years.

(whispering) He’s probably here to discuss that thing from you were talking about at the school festival.

>There was another knock on the door... Whoever was there was really big.

Skull: That’d be my guests. Let ‘em in.

Fair warnin’, you may wanna brace yourselves.

>Erica answers the door... She gasps a bit, but stands her ground and let’s Skull’s guests in.

Nothing can be more nice than spending Christmas with good friends and family... Even though I’m sometimes bad company.

>Alexander Paine, Skull’s father, and his newly reacquainted gang members, Spydah and Flesh, had arrived... However, Flesh was having trouble fitting through the door.

(laughing) Guess they didn’ thought about you comin’, big boy!

Shut it, Roger!

I’ve got it.

>Panther twirls her finger and the door magically expands enough for Flesh to squeeze through and get inside. Once he did, the door returned to normal.

Panther: I should thank Bloom and Tecna for that interior design spell. Bloom said it really comes in handy when she’s helping Mike and Venessa at their house or the flower store. I even used it to help fix up the apartment every now and again.

Joker: (taking notes in the new dairy with the magic pen) You should teach me that, too. Maybe I can use it to redecorate the attic for me and Yusuke.

May I request extra space to set up my art station? That way, I don’t have to pack up my supplies every night before we go to bed or if we have guest and have to set up the table.

Hey, while you’re at it, why not do the whole café? Maybe fix up the bathroom. Extra points if you add one of those diner stools at the counter or replace the booth seats’ upholstery with Corinthian leather... I’m just joking. Don’t do anything to the café without at least making sure it’s okay with me... But seriously, do you think you can fix up the bathroom?

Oracle: I understand. It looks like it’s seen better days. I think the sinks clogged and the toilet keeps leaking big time.

TMI, Futaba. TMI.

Queen: I can’t believe you invited those three.

Skull: I know. But it’s Christmas and Mom said I should really give him another chance.

Paine: Indeed. Even I have to respect the truce that is this holiday.

????: But just in case, that’s why we came.

>We saw that A.T.O.M. had also arrived.

Paine: Manning, it’s been awhile.

Actually, last week, we stopped you three from trying to stealing a mind-enhancing helmet that you were going to use to spread your pain around.

Paine: ... Fair enough.

Really, old man?

Paine: ... I’m a villain. What do you want from me?

Skull: Yeesh, I’m beginnin’ to think Goro was right about invintin’ Axel and the others.

Crow: Yes. Just in case Paine, Spydah, or Flesh didn’t try anything, we would ask the team who dealt with them more times than anyone could count to keep them in line to ensure this party goes without a hitch.

(sorry, Hawk, but this was the only picture I could find) With me around, every party goes without a hitch.

As long as you don’t go flirting with every pretty girl you meet.

>We couldn’t help but laugh a little at that while Hawk just glared at King.

Skull: Anyway, I’m glad you guys could make it. I’m surprised your families were cool with it.

Thanks to Lioness’s mom, they’re not far.

They’re staying at the Wilton Hotel. We thought a trip to Tokyo for the Fight Before Christmas Tournament, Christmas, and New Years would be the perfect gift for them.

That’s nice of you and your mother, Lioness chan. We should spend New Years with them while we can.

Lioness: I’ll let her know.

Speaking of the Fight Before Christmas, for those of you hadn’t got the results yet, here they are.

Joker: I still can’t believe I didn’t make it.

Queen: But at least you made it out of the First Round.

Joker: That’s true. And congrats on making it to 3rd Place.

Duke: We didn’t get to see the tournament. We know Joe Akamine is the champ, did Yuki finally beat his rival?

Queen: Well... No. In the end Joe remains the champion. But I don’t think Yuki is done. He’ll try again next year, I know it.

Admin: Not unless Soul Taker gets to him before he does.

Spydah: (confused) What’s with the shades, kid? (takes Admin’s sunglasses with one of his “appendages”)

Hey, give those back, they’re mine! Roger kun, I mean it!

Spydah: (getting a little upset about being called his real name) The name’s Spydah!

Lioness: Just do as he says, Spydah.

>Spydah, not wanting to start anything, gives Admin back his sunglasses.

Admin: (putting his shades back on) Thank you.

Peter: (shaking his head) You give arachnids a bad name.

Spydah: Hmph!

Joker: Calm down, we just want this party to go on without any problems.

I’m beginning to regret coming here today. I only came to give my contribution to the party. I bought a many boxes as I could.

Turkish Delight on a(n almost) moonlit knight.

Turkish Delights. I haven’t had any in a long time. Me and my father used to have them every Christmas.

Roderick: Even though I already made so much for the dessert table. Still, it’s a great gift. Thanks, Abul.

Abul: You’re welcome, my friend.

>Another knock comes from the door. Aunt Erica answers it.

I heard there’s a party here.

Fox: I’m so glad you could come.

Flesh: (surprised) Wow! I didn’t know you guys know Taro Kitano.

Taro: I’m Yusuke’s old man... And I’m not alone.

>Suddenly, Snake Eyes unsheathes his sword and runs to the entrance of the restaurant...

KLANG!

>The sound of metal could be heard.

Taro: (grabbing Snake Eyes’s arm) Relax, Silent Pajamas, he’s with me.

>Snake Eyes puts his sword back as Taro’s plus one come in with him.

I come all the way back to Japan to spend the Holidays with relatives and I’m greeted by an Arashikaga ninja.

Axel: And I thought Dragon was like that.

Fox: It’s nice for you to be here, Ojisan.

Goemon: It was not easy, but I am here now.

Joker: If you’re here, does this mean my favorite cousin is close by?

Goemon: (shaking his head) He and Jigen have their own Holiday plans this year... Mostly Jigen chasing him chasing Fujiko. I last saw them in the Sahara Desert.

Joker: Well that’s a shame. Maybe another time.

Paine: (a sadistic look on his face) I agree... And I have a few choice words for him about his father and grandfather.

Axel: (face palms himself) Really?

Goemon: I’m not going to ask for the sake that it is the Holidays.

Jonny: It’s so good to see you two again, Taro, Goemon.

Taro: Yes. And we’ll be family soon.

>Me and Fox smile as we hold hands lovingly.

Skull: (smiling) I can’t wait for when we get married.

(also holding Skull’s hand lovingly) As if we weren’t already from what I’ve heard.

Peter: (also smiling) Don’t we know.

Harry: (also holding Peter’s hand lovingly with a smile) You said it.

>Another knock was on the door and it was answered.

Heard there was a party going on. Thought we drop in.

Oracle: You guys made it!

>Team Core-Tech and Six come inside.

Joker: It’s good to see you guys again.

Same here. It’s been way too long.

I am still pretty new to how these Holiday parties go. I think they may not be the same as the ones we have back home. Even if our worlds are similar.

Really? How did you celebrate it before?

It’s mostly just traveling and trying to stop Eklipse. I think we had fudge once.

You remember the fudge, Bren. The rest of us just exchanged whatever gifts we could find.

Noir: That sound complicated.

Chase: Not really. But it does get a little boring after a while.

Queen: Well, hopefully this will be a nice change of pace.

This will probably be the first actual Christmas I’ve celebrated.

Bren: Am I even going to ask how Dr. Klipse celebrates the Holidays?

Dax: Probably best not to know, mate. Or we might never sleep at night again.

Paine: Do as he says, boy. Don’t ask questions that you’ll regret knowing the answers to.

If that’s everyone... This is everyone, right?

(panicking) Nope, everyone’s here. I’m here. You’re here. We’re all here. No one else is coming. Let’s get this party going.

Is something the matter, Vincent? You’ve been panicky all day.

Joker: Yeah. We haven’t seen you spazz out this much since... Wait, don’t tell me...

Vincent: (sighs) I checked my email this morning... She’s in Tokyo now.

Does she know we’re here?

Vincent: I don’t know. She said she was staying with a “friend” in Ikebukuro. I have no idea who it is, but I have a very bad feeling about this.

Rin: Do you think we should cancel?

Joker: No, I think she wants us to show her she still has power over Uncle Vincent. We’ll continue. But let’s keep our eyes open.

>Then, there was a knock on the door that made the three of us jump a bit.

Boss: (laughing) I don’t know what’s got you three so jumpy. It’s just my guests.

Oracle: You invited someone?

Boss: Pretty much. Let them in.

>With that, Erica answers the door.

Albert: We’re here!

Franz: Sorry, if we’re a little late. Some of us had a bit of a sleepy start.

Forgive me. That was an excellent party last night.

Only because you said they had the good stuff.

Lucien: That rose wine was probably the best I’ve had in a long time.

Boss: Glad you could finally be here. Though, you’re a little overdressed.

Valentine: Sorry. It was sort of last minute, we didn’t have time to change into our regular clothes.

Maximilien: All we did was clean up a bit, sprayed perfume and cologne, and got in our cars.

Which we decorated by the way. I mean, I don’t usually celebrate Christmas since I’m Jewish, but I think I did a great job. Look.

>We all look out the front window to see Eugenie's car, Lucien’s car, Maximilien’s motorbike, and Renaud's car were decorated for the Holidays.

Erica: (wondering) A Jew who is good with cars... Kind of like Toby.

Renaud: You miss him, don’t you?

Erica: No one has seen or heard from him since Thanksgiving two years ago. That was when we first met you.

Renaud: ... Don’t worry. I’m sure something came up. You’ll see him again soon.

Erica: ... I hope you’re right.

Anyway, shall we get started?

Boss: Now we know we’re all here.. Let’s begin.

Sophie: First off: The Secret Santas. Those who have a number, please form a circle in the middle of the room.

Not all of us, I’m afraid.

>We all look to the corner of the restaurant... that was blocked off by dividers... but the silhouette of a man is clearly visible.

I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves when it’s time for them to give their gift.

Anyway, let’s get to it.

>A circle of chairs is set. Me, Fox, Skull, Crow, Panther, Mona, Queen, Noir, Oracle, Violet, Wolf, Rook, Queen’s Sister, Lavenza, Jose, Wolf’s Daughter, and Rook’s Friend set in them. Our mystery guest remained in his place.

>From me to Panther:

>From Fox to Crow:

>From Skull to Rook’s friend:

>Crow to Fox:

>Panther to Lavenza:

>From Mona to Rook:

>From Queen to Wolf:

>From Noir to Violet:

>From Oracle to Joker:

>From Violet to Jose:

>From Sophie to Skull:

>From Wolf to our Mystery Guest:

>From Rook to Queen’s Sis:

>From Boss to Oracle:

>From Sis to Queen:

>From Admin to Noir:

>From Lavenza to Mona:

>From Jose to Admin:

>From Wolf’s Daughter to Panther’s Friend:

>From Rook’s Friend to Boss: A gift card.

>From Panther’s Friend to Sophie: A music playlist.

Panther’s Friend: I wasn’t sure what to get a computer for Christmas. This is the best I could come up with.

Sophie: I live it, Shiho san, thank you. Is this the newest song by Kanamin Kitchen?

Panther’s Friend: (happy) It sure is. I think I also have songs from Next HarMEOWny.

>Sophie and Panther’s Friend seem happy with this.

Wolf’s Daughter: I’m the last one to get a gift. I wonder what I got from our mystery guest.

?????: I’m sure you’ll like it. Check your phone.

>Wolf’s Daughter checks her phone... WHAT!?

Hello, Akane Hasigawa, I am EMMA 2.0.

>Seeing this, we now know who our mysterious guest was. Then, he steps out of his hiding place.

Does this seem like a nightmare to you? A bad dream? ... I was actually trying to make an exciting entrance.

How humiliating. I should have seen this coming.

Same here.

Akira Konoe: (making a the peace sign) Relax, you lot, it’s Christmas. I come in peace... By the way, thanks, Zenkichi, for the pin.

Wolf: (suspicious) How are you even out of prison? I thought you got life for framing the Phantom Thieves and for killing your father.

Akira Konoe: Meh, plot convenience. You guys needed to have an even number for the Secrets Santas.

Admin: He could have just chosen another Confidant to do so.

Akira Konoe: Whatever may be will be.

Sophie: I can’t believe you did it again.

Akira Konoe: Relax. This EMMA doesn’t have all the bells and whistles that the old version had... And I do mean all of them.

For your sake, it better not.

Jonny: (laughing a bit) Walked right into that one.

King: Want to to throw ‘em out?

Queen: No. I know it’ll be hard, but it’s Christmas. A day to put aside our differences.

Paine: But if he does... Flesh?

>Flesh makes a twisted grin as he flexes his muscles... Konoe doesn’t flinch.

Paine: But enough about that. I believe the rest of us have our gifts to give out. This is for you, son.

This is... somethin’. I’ve worn fancy clothes before, but this is too fancy.

Paine: I just thought it was time for you to wear the family colors (black and red) out side of your old school’s uniform.

Skull: (still a bit unsure) I know. But still...

Paine: I won’t force you... But you should remember what your mother told you.

>Skull is still unsure about this fancy suit. Axel notices.

Axel: Anyway, I think we have something that might cheer you up. We had Garret make you guys something that might come in use someday.

>A.T.O.M. gives us our very own mission suits, the same kind they wear on their own missions. Aside from usual orange paddings, they also have our signature colors:

Joker: Black and red

Fox: Blue and white

Skull: Yellow and black

Crow: White and red

Panther: Red and magenta

Mona: Black and yellow with a bit of white

Queen: Grey and blue

Noir: Lavender and white with a bit of black

Oracle: Green and black

Violet: Pink and black

Rook: White and yellow

Wolf: Grey and white

>A.T.O.M. Mission Suit Set has been unlocked.

Garrett’s really outdone himself.

Axel: They have communicators in the patch and they go into night opts. Something to help you with your... side job.

>That will be further explained.

Peter: Now for the next one. This is something me and Harry worked on. It’s upgrades to the suits we gave you. Akechi, your Superior Spider-Man Suit can now camouflage just like Spy-D and my Steal Suit.

Harry: Ryuji, your Goblin Suit can also make you a bit more faster. Especially if you have the Glider. Though, I can’t promise it’ll always help in windy situations.

>Skull and Crow quickly put on their suits to test them out. No doubt, Crow was gone in a matter of seconds and Skull ran around the restaurant in just one.

Sweet! This is effin’ awesome!

(returning to the visible spectrum) Yes. You two have really outdone yourselves. Sorry if we might be taking that from Garrett.

Axel: None taken... But you better apologize to Garrett since he heard you through the suit’s coms.

Peter: Speaking of which, your masks now also have communicators. 

Thanks, Pete, Harry. These are really cool suits

We really appreciate this.

Skull: Oh yeah, Yusuke, this gift is from Kei.

>Skull gives Fox a pass to visit an art workshop.

A chance to work alongside Rekesh? This is extremely rare to come by.

NOTE: For those of you who don’t know, Rekesh is the artist from the popular game app, Roommates.

Skull: Kei knows that he’s one of the artists you admire, so he thought about getting you a chance to see him.

I should thank him the next time I see him.

Taro: If you like that, you should see what I got you.

Are you serious? If you’re thinking of having me join the Scorchers, there may be a couple of problems with that.

Taro: How so?

Fox: First of all, I’m the opposite element. The Scorchers are Fire, but I am Ice. And second, I’m not the best behind the wheel.

Jonny: (a bit disappointed) Really? That’s a shame. And I just picked out the perfect car for you for your birthday next month.

Fox: (again surprised) You got me a car?

Jonny: Yusuke, you’re about to become my son-in-law. The least you can do is let me get you something nice.

Goemon: He’s right. I’m not usually good at driving either, but you should give it a try.

Fox: ... I suppose.

Oracle: (looking a bit grim) I still remember what happened in Mementos.

Taro: If driving is the problem, I can teach you. You don’t have to join the Scorchers if you don’t want to.

Geomon: Now, here is my girft.

>Goemon gave his gift to his nephew. It was a copy of their ancestor’s farewell poem.

Even as all grains of sand wash away,

Thieves shall remain evermore.

Even if they are his last words, they are ever beautiful.

Geomon: Yes, they are. If I ever find myself in such a situation, I would probably write something similar.

Taro: Same here. Though hopefully not too soon.

Duke: (being pushy) Go on, Little Bro, give it to her.

Vince: Okay, okay. Sumire, these are for you.

They’re so lovely! Thank you, Vincent san.

>Violet gives Vince a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Vince was a little surprised, but happy... But Violet’s father make the “I’ve got my eyes on you” gesture... with Mr. Hauser making the same gesture to Violet’s father.

Violet: Now I have something for you.

Vince: Oh... Thank you.

Duke: I’m not sure why you’re against my little brother, Mr. Yoshizawa. He’s a good kid. He’s even a Green Barrett by now. A member of the United States Army Special Forces.

Violet’s Father: I don’t know. I guess after what happened to my other daughter, I’m just a little cautious.

Mrs. Houser: Sumire told us about that. We’re sorry about what happened to Kasumi. I promise that Sumire will be fine with Vince.

Violet’s Father: Well, seeing how I’m hearing this from his mother, I guess I can believe it... (whisper) For now.

Dax: Now I think it’s my turn. Here you go, My Princess Futaba. A Happy Christmas to you.

>Dax gave Oracle matching beanies.

It’s a great gift. Thank you, Dax. (gives Dax a small peck on the cheek)

Dax: (happy) Thanks.

Oracle: Don’t thank me yet. Now here’s what I’ve got for you.

Dax: (surprised) I did not know a restaurant that sell fried chicken does something like this.

Oracle: You’d be surprised by what you discover online.

Skull: If the couples are giving their gifts to each other, we better start. Here you go, Goro, the best unofficial husband I have.

>Skull plays the guitar as he sings.

Shining black bird in your nest Hear my heart from on your tree Please come down to my arms and rest Open your wings and fly free to me

Upon my heart, you dream and dream I ask that I be your hero Don't be fooled by what I seem With you, my one, I am no zero

Fly, fly, little crow, my heart is with you To the sky sky so blue Love that soars is always true Fly, fly, little crow, my heart is with you To the sky sky so blue Our bond will never fall for this is what we do

Such a wonderful gift, Ryu.

Skull: The guitar’s also yours.

Crow: Two gifts in one. I love it just as much I you. Now, here’s what I have for you.

This is totally the best gift ever from you. I love you, Goro.

And I love you, Ryu.

(Image was found online.)

Noir: (smiling) We should exchange our gifts, too, Mako chan.

Queen: Yes. It’s about time our ship has more recognition. This is for you, Haru. I chose this with a lot of thought and feeling.

Thank you, Mako chan. I hope you’ll love my gift for you.

It’s as lovely as you, Haru.

(Image found online. Queen and Noir said it’s about time.)

Joker: I guess we’re the last to go. Yusuke, this is for you.

Another beautiful gift from you, Ren. Now here is mine.

(Image found online.)

It’s also beautiful as you. Thank you, Yusuke. I love you.

And I, you, Ren.

>Me and Fox get closer together in a loving embrace... Our faces get closer... And then...

WOOSH~!

>The door blows open as if an ominous storm was coming in... But it was something worse... Someone comes in...

NO! NOT HER!

Is that all you have to say to me after all these years? (trying to be cute and flirty) You’re so mean.

And this coming from a woman (if I can call you that) who lead so many men to their doom.

Catherine: (trying to be cute) Don’t exaggerate... It was just a few guys over the past six centuries.

Rin: How did you even find us?

>As if to answer the question, someone else comes in through the door.

Oh my, I didn’t know it was a party. If I had known, I would have worn my good jacket. And here I’m suppose to be the one who knows many things.

Albert: (not surprised) At figures.

Catherine: I was actually quite unhappy that I wasn’t invited.

You’re not welcome here.

Catherine: (pretending to be in an awkward situation) Really? Oh my, what an awkward situation. And here I thought you would love to see an old friend come to visit. Especially you, Vincent. We used to have so much fun together. Well in that case, I’ll be on my way.

Rin: Then, you’re not offended?

>Catherine then makes an almost sinister grin.

Catherine: Of course not. After all, it’s Christmas. A time of peace and forgiveness. And to show you I have no ill-will... I, too, will give you a gift.

>We all were shocked. We knew her ‘gifts’ can mean only one thing... Trouble.

Catherine: Oh, but seeing as it is Sunday, I only have enough for to give only one of you a gift. Let’s see. How about... the one who’s shown to hate me the most.

>Her demonic eyes fall upon... me. I try to have a go at her to stop her, but Izaya grabs me from behind and holds me at knifepoint. My friends try to save me, but Catherine creates a ring of hellfire to keep them away.

Catherine: Let’s see. What would be perfect for you? What makes you tick?

>Catherine examines me for a moment until... she spotted my engagement pendent. She then looks to my friends and sees Fox’s.

Catherine: (with a sinister grin) Oh, I see... Listen well, all of you! ... The marriage of the Trickster, Ren Amamiya, and the champion of his heart, Yusuke Kitagawa, shall indeed be a happy, beautiful, and strong one. Enough to spread love and joy around to all who know them.

Jonny: (trying vainly to calm her) That’s a wonderful gift. So can you-

Catherine: But...

>A dark aura surrounds Catherine in a swirl of demonic energy. It was then that she transforms into her true demon form.

(this is as much as we can show you of her form) Before the sun sets on the first anniversary of their marriage, the Trickster shall meet the one whom he helped in his rebellion and failed! To punish him for it, he shall plunge the Trickster into a deathlike sleep from which he shall never awaken from!

NO!

>Fox, Geomon, and Snake Eyes take out their katanas to save me, but Izaya presses the knife closer to my throat... Vincent comes forth.

Vincent: (begging) Catherine, please. You don’t have to do this. It’s me you want, not him.

Catherine: (snickering) I like you begging. It reminds me of our time together... Do it more.

>Vincent gets down on his knees to beg Catherine to stop.

Catherine: (unsatisfied) Come on now. Get on all fours like the sheep you are. The sheep you always were and always will be.

>Seeing no other choice, Vincent gets down on all fours like an animal. Catherine laughs at how pathetic he looks now.

Catherine: ... The Trickster, Ren Amamiya, can be awakened from this sleep. But only if... he makes it to the top of the Tower.

>Vincent, my father, Orlando, and Erica all gasp in shock... They know what tower she’s talking about.

Catherine: However, there might be another way. Perhaps a trade. Something that, conveniently enough... lies in that cat’s fanny pack.

>Catherine was facing... Mona. He opens his waste pack and tacks something out.

Catherine: I know what that is. I know what it does... And I want it. Think of it as the perfect Christmas present for me.

Mona: (clutching the Holy Grail tightly) And why is that?

Catherine: Think of it as... an ensurance policy. There are a lot who are after me... And not all of them are freindly.

>Mona thought about it... But I shook my head. I knew what would happen if Catherine drank from that cup. Mona knew what I meant.

Mona: As much as I want to help Joker...

But I can’t give you the Holy Grail.

Catherine: ... Well, that is unfortunate.

>The dark aura around Catherine only got more powerful and scary.

Catherine: This curse will last until the end of time! No power in Heaven or on Earth or beneath the Earth can change it!

Albert: (having enough of this) That’s enough!

Izaya: (just smiling) Oh. Is that a threat?

Albert: Nero may not be here to stop you... But I am.

>Albert stretches out his arm and, in a flash...

Maximilien: You are not alone!

Valentine: That’s right!

Skull: Hey, if you’re bringin’ out your Keyblades, so will me!

Crow: And me!

Peter: Don’t forget about us!

Harry: Yes!

Valentine: Deep Freeze!

>Valentine raises her Keyblade, casting the Blizzard Spell that puts out the flames. Maximilien manages to knock Izaya’s knife back with his and allowing me to escape to the arms of Fox and my father. Skull, Crow, Peter, Harry, and Albert hold their Keyblades at Catherine who was slightly unnerved.

Catherine: There is nothing you can do now.

>With that, in a flash of flames, she was gone.

Izaya: I guess I better take a hike, too.

Albert: (in disbelief) Izaya, why? We are connected. Why would help her? She’s a demon.

Izaya: ... I was just bored. It’s not like I have feelings for her. Like I said and will always say: I love people. Not one specifically. I love all people. Now, goodbye for now... Oh, and Merry Christmas.

>With that, Izaya leaves.

When I see the effin’ piece of shit again while I’m in Ikebukuro, he’s gonna get it.

Oracle: You’ll have to wait your turn. That ridiculously strong guy in the bartender suit wants a crack at him the most.

>Lucien takes something out of his pocket.

>With a flick of his pen, Lucien restored the restaurant to what it was before Catherine  and Izaya arrived... But it would not fix what was done to me.

Lucien: I’m sorry, Ren. As good as I am at magic, a curse like this might be out of my league.

Katherine: Ann, can’t you do anything? You have magic, too.

Panther: I need to earn my Enchantix to use Fairy Dust, I’m still an apprentice. And even I did, Catherine is a demon and I’m a fairy. That makes her powers stronger than mine since fairies are weak against demons.

Valentine: Maybe I can help. I’m just as good at magic as Lucien is.

Jonny: (hopefully) Then, you can undo this curse?

Valentine: (shaking her head sadly) You heard Catherine, nothing can change it... But maybe I can add to it. The one thing you can count on demons... is that most of them never really understood fairy tales.

>Valentine raises her Keyblade and a magic circle appears around me and Fox.

Sweet Trickster, if through this wicked witch’s trick become the Demon’s vengeful pick, a ray of hope there still maybe in this, the gift I gave to thee. Not in death, but just in sleep this fateful prophecy you’ll keep. And from this slumber you shall wake when true love’s kiss the spell shall break.

🎶For true love conquers all~🎶

Thank you, Valentine san.

Yes. We will never forget what you have done for us.

Valentine: I can sense the love between you both is true and unbreakable. (Even if this is a fanmade timeline and your love is fanon.) I know because I see it between Albert and Franz. A couple of other friends whose names I’ll leave out for now. (glances... at Lucien and Beauchamp) And... I see it between me and Maximilien.

>She takes Maximilien’s hand which make s him blush... but happy.

Jinja: So what now? Should we call it a night and head home?

Eugenie: Heck no. You haven’t even got the gift we brought.

Renaud: Yeah, don’t leave us out of this exchange.

Beauchamp: Actually, after this, I think we’ll give you two gifts. This first one, which I just thought of (I took pictures of this), I'm going to defame Catherine good. I know it’s unprofessional, especially towards a lady (if I can call her that), but she crossed a line, tonight. Now she has to pay the price.

Sis: I don’t think you should. You’d probably be giving her the satisfaction.

Beauchamp: ... It never hurts to try.

Albert: And now for our second, and official, gift. From me and my friends to all of you.

Albert, Franz, Eugenie, Valentine, Maximilien, Lucien, Beauchamp, and Renaud: Joyeux Noël!

Roderick: (impressed) I have to say, that is impressive.

Renaud: We have a few more like this in Eugenie’s car. Hold on, we’ll get them.

Harry: Are you sure? We all just summoned our Keyblades. Don’t you think we might have invited other unpleasant company.

Albert: They don’t usually show up in highly populated areas in this world. I guess we have the Silver Crystal to thank for that.

>Suddenly, there was a rustling sound outside.

Albert: But just to be sure.

Eugenie: Pretty much.

Franz: I’ll go with you.

Beauchamp: Hold on, I’m coming.

Renaud: And me.

>With that, Albert, Franz, Eugenie, Maximilien, Valentine, Lucien, Beauchamp, and Renaud all go outside to the get rest of the cakes. When they did...

Albert: I guess this is one of those times the Silver Crystal doesn’t always help.

Eugenie: Sailor Moon and the others must be out of town. I guess we’ll have to fill in for them until they get back.

Albert: Right.

Franz: Let’s go.

>With that, they go off to fight the Heartless to get the remaining cakes.

Joker: I hope what Valentine did will work.

Fox: You heard what she said. If you do end up falling into a deep sleep that makes you climb an impossibly tall tower...

I will be there to bring you back.

I know you will.

(Picture was found on Facebook.)

>With that, we continue with our party with not but hope in our hearts.

Trickster, the succubus’s curse to cast you to Asteroth’s Tower is not the end of your story. Me and Jose will do our part to assist you as always.

Until we meet again.

P.S. We apologize that this is being posted very late. (It’s already March.) I have so much to do (mostly physical training) that I hardly have the time to do anything else, including working on the Phansite. Again, we apologize for this late post.

[twdeadfanfic]

Hot Cocoa Pt. 20

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary:  Pre-apocalypse.  Y/N is an elementary school teacher new to the town, and one of her students is little Dixon, Daryl Dixon’s nephew. Daryl has taken care of him for years, the kid’s mother out of the picture and his father seeming to be in and out of jail all of the time.

You can find the previous chapters and more fics in my Masterlist

The next day, after class, Sam stayed with you to the art activity, and so it was Daryl who came to pick him up and not Merle. This time, you didn’t go to have dinner with them, you didn’t want another mess fight with Merle, even if you hated that he was making you expend less time with Daryl and Sam, but you didn’t know to fix it.

The day after that, it was Friday, and Sam didn’t stay to the art activity, as he told you that he was going to the woods with Merle after class. You didn’t mind it…well, you did, a bit, sad that it seemed your weekend movie nights with Daryl and Sam might come to an end, but you understood Sam wanting to be with his dad, and wanting to go to the woods. It seemed he was staying both to the art class some days and with Merle others, and as long as he was doing what he wanted and was happy, you knew you should be content.

Still, when you were alone at your place that evening, you couldn’t help your sadness as you missed the Dixon’s and your evenings with them.

Early on Saturday morning, when you were still barely awake, you heard some knocks on your door. You frowned, confused at who could be at that hour, and you got up to open the door, surprised when you found the Dixon’s there. Sure, they were early risers, but they’d never come to visit so early, excepts when they took you to the woods…still, you were very much not going to complain about them coming to visit.

“Hi, Y/N!” Sam grinned at you while you blinked at them, taken by surprise.

“Hey, sweetheart, you come early today,” you said, smiling. “I’m glad to see you.”

“Yes, we can have breakfast together!” Sam said and you nodded, smiling, though when you glanced at Daryl, you thought something seemed off.

“Sure we can, I’m going to put some breakfast together,” you told him.

“I’ll help ya,” Daryl said and you nodded at him, heading to the kitchen while Sam went to the living room.

“Hi, Laura!” You heard him greeting your cat. “I missed you!”

“I’m sorry if we woke ya up or somethin’,” Daryl said.

“No, it’s fine,” you assured him as you began putting together some hot cocoa and cookies. “But it’s everything okay?”

“Yeah, just…” Daryl let out a sigh as he leaned against the counter. “Merle went out last night, I heard him coming back at the sunrise, brought a girl,” he explained. “Didn’t feel like bein’ there this mornin’ with Sam.”

“Oh…I get it…I’m sorry…but I’m happy Sam and you are here,” you said, smiling at Daryl, who gave you a soft smile, reaching to stroke your cheek before he helped you to carry breakfast to the table.

Daryl and Sam didn’t stay only for breakfast, though, but for lunch too, since Daryl didn’t think Merle would wake up any time soon, and on your side, you couldn’t help but be glad that they were spending time with you.

Late in the afternoon, they were going to go back home, but Sam tugged at your hand.

“Y/N, come have dinner with us,” he told you and you hated to say no to that look he was giving you, but…

“I think your dad will prefer if it’s only you three,” you told him and Sam let out a sigh that broke your heart a bit.

“So you’re never comin’ again? He asked you and it really felt like someone was stabbing your heart.

“It’s not that, sweetheart, just…” You tried to look for something to say, but were at loss for words. “Just…your dad has just come back, wait for him to settle down and…and things between him and I will…settle down too…” You weren’t even convincing yourself, and you hated this feeling of Merle winning nonetheless, either if you went and you both ended up fighting again, or if you didn’t go and disappointed Sam and made him sad, no mention stopping yourself from spending time with Sam and Daryl. “But…yes, I think I’m going to have dinner with you.” You finally decided, screw Merle, you weren’t going to let him take time from you, Sam and Daryl.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna…” Sam said, shrugging and still looking down.

“Yeah, ya don’t have to,” Daryl said too, looking at you as if he were worried that you were feeling forced to go.

“I want to,” you assured them. “So…let’s go.”

*

Once you reached the Dixon’s cabin, Merle was sat down outside, smoking, with a couple of empty bottles of beer next to him.

“I knew ya had left with her,” he scoffed as he looked at you.

“It wasn’t lookin’ like ye were goin’ to miss us this mornin’, like ya didn’t last night,” Daryl bit back, but Merle just chuckled, smirking.

“What’s the problem, lil’ bro, ya wanna be the only one who can get pussy?” Merle taunted Daryl, even though his mean smile was on you.

“Shut up,” Daryl snapped, but you reached to place a hand on his arm, knowing that Merle was trying to rail you both up in purpose, and you weren’t going to follow that game anymore…you ignored your coworkers for a year, you could ignore Merle Dixon too.

“Sam, do you want to show me how the garden is doing?” You asked him. “I haven’t checked in a few days.”

“Sure, and then we can shoot at the cans with the slingshot before dinner?” Sam grinned at you. “I can shoot them from further now!”

“Yeah, that’s what happens when ya practice at that instead of losin’ yer time paintin’,” Merle said, and you bit your tongue again.

“Sure, sweetheart!” You smiled at Sam, ignoring Merle. “And then we’ll make some dinner.”

You walked with Sam to the backyard, and Daryl looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

You were checking the garden, happy to see that a new batch of tomatoes seemed ready to harvest, when you heard a gunshot so close that you gasped, scared, and your heart seemed to jump to your throat.

You looked back and saw Merle next to the tree, a rifle on his hands, and one of the squirrels that seemed to have been at your homemade house and feeder dead on the ground. He’d killed one of the squirrels…you were so shocked you couldn’t say anything.

“The hell did ya do?!” Daryl yelled.

“Get dinner.” Merle shrugged, taking the squirrel.

“Dad…dad, those ain’t for dinnin’, those are our yard squirrels…” Sam said.

“He knew that already,” Daryl said, glaring at Merle.

“Come on, like ya don’t come from huntin’ with a bag full of those,” Merle laughed. “This little squirrel house of yers, helps bring dinner home.”

“Ya knew we don’t hunt those…” Daryl growled and Merle scoffed.

You knew that Daryl wasn’t going to be vegetarian, no matter he cooked for you or eat your food, you knew that he still hunted in the woods when he needed meat, but you too knew that he would have never touched any of the yard squirrels.

But Merle…he didn’t even need the meat, Daryl had enough from the last time he went hunting to the woods, and Merle knew about the yard squirrels…he’d done it on purpose, to upset you and anger you…and now a squirrel that came attracted to your feeder was dead because of you…

“Look, kid,” Merle said, looking at Sam. “Don’t let that teacher get ideas on yer head, even if she took yer uncle’s brain,” he scoffed. “This?” He shook the dead squirrel and you looked away. “This is dinner.”

You were beyond upset, beyond angry too, but you didn’t want to explode there in front of Merle, either by crying or by yelling, and so you just began walking away in silence, wanting to go back home and away from Merle.

“Y/N!” Sam ran behind you, holding your hand to stop you, while Daryl was looking like he didn’t know what to do, go after you or fight his brother. “Don’t leave, I’m sorry dad shot a yard squirrel but he won’t do it again.”

You let out a sigh, trying to control your emotions. “Sweetheart…you don’t have to be sorry, I’m not upset with you. But I’m sad and-”

“I’m sorry that you’re sad,” Sam said without letting you finish, hugging you. “Don’t leave sad.” He was making it really hard for you to leave, feeling like your heart was tearing a bit, but you couldn’t stay there with Merle at that moment.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, but I’m sad at this moment, and when I’m sad like this, I want to be alone for a bit,” you told him softly. “But when I’m not sad like this, I’ll come see you, or you can come see me, okay?”

Sam just shrugged, looking down and seeming upset, breaking your heart, but finally he nodded.

“Kid, come skin the squirrel!” Merle’s voice said and again, you bit your tongue so as not to snap, and held your tears.

You began walking away again, but before you even left the small, front yard, someone tugged at your hand again, Daryl this time.

“Y/N, hey, wait…I’m sorry,” he told you softly and you took a deep breath, you’d already dealt with Sam about this and now you needed to do it again with Daryl.

“Daryl, I’m very upset at this moment, it’s not at you, but I need to leave, okay?” You said as calmly as you could, but Daryl was looking like it was very much not okay. “I’m not mad at you but I can’t stay here right now, I’m sorry.”

“…okay…” He was still looking like it was not okay, and he glanced back towards the house. He’d seemed concerned as he looked at you, but now he was looking angry again, and you reached to hold his hand.

“Daryl, don’t get into a fight with your brother with Sam listening to everything,” you told him, knowing how upset Sam got when Merle and Daryl fought, and he’d seemed upset enough at everything that had happened.

“I ain’t lettin’ it go!” Daryl waved towards the house. “That shit ain’t right”

“I know, but Sam is going to be upset if he sees you and Merle fighting, and he’s upset enough,” you said. “Go be with him.”

Daryl still seemed torn, but you let go of his hand, and walked away.

*

Late that evening, you were on the sofa, curled up with your cat. You knew that you should go to sleep, but you were still upset and agitated after the whole Merle thing, and you didn’t think you could sleep.

There was a knock on the door, so soft that you wondered if you had imagined it, but you went to the door and looked through the peephole, finding Daryl there, so you opened.

“Hey…”

“Hey…did I wake ya?”

“No, I haven’t gone to sleep yet,” you said, letting Daryl walk in and closing the door behind him.

“Last time I came this late you had a knife with ya,” Daryl said, and you snorted weakly.

“Yeah…maybe I’ve lowered my guard too much…” You tried to joke, heading to sit down on the sofa again, and Daryl stood in front of you.

“I’m sorry ‘bout my brother.”

“I know you are…” You let out a sigh. “But it wasn’t your fault and it’s not you who has to apologize.”

“Yeah, my brother ain’t apologizin’…” Daryl said and you snorted bitterly.

“That’s not a surprise…” You scoffed, before sighing again. “How’s Sam?”

“Upset…” Daryl sighed too, sitting down at the other end of the sofa, fidgeting. “This shit with Merle…I’m gonna fix it.”

“If you know how, go ahead, because I have no idea,” you said, defeated, and on one hand, you wanted Daryl to do something about his brother, but on the other, you didn’t want him resenting you if he fought with his brother all the time because of you. Daryl wasn’t really looking like he knew how to fix it, and you reached out to take his hand. “For now…just hug me?”

Daryl looked at you, nodding and shifting closer until he could wrap his arm around you, and you snuggled against his chest, feeling his lips on the top of your head. “I’m sorry that Merle’s bein’ a prick…” He murmured.

“I know,” you whispered.

“Ya said…ya said ya ain’t leavin’…ya still mean it?” Daryl asked you ever so quietly, and you pulled back to look at him. He didn’t hold your gaze, seeming shy and unsure, and you reached to caress his cheek before making him look at you.

“I mean it, Daryl, of course I do,” you assured him. “You know that I love you, and I love Sam, and I wouldn’t want to be away from you both, and your brother being a prick is not going to change that or drive me away from you both.” You felt like Merle was trying to make you want to leave, and you weren’t going to let him win. “I’m not going anywhere…besides, you know now I’m trapped on that school for at least another year,” you half-joked and Daryl snorted, giving you a sad smile before hiding his face on the crook of your shoulder.

“I can’t stay,” he muttered against your neck. “I ain’t sure if Merle’s goin’ out this night again or not, I don’t want the kid to be alone at home if does.”

“Okay.” You nodded, you understood, and Daryl pulled away from you with a tired sigh. You leaned to kiss his lips before taking his hand, walking with him to the door.

“Daryl…you know how I ignore my coworker’s bullshit?” You asked and Daryl nodded. “I’m going to do the same with your brother, I’m done fighting, it’s been good for nothing.” Merle ended up winning one way or another. “And you should too.”

“Can’t.” Daryl shook his head. “I , uh…always ignored all his bullshit, went with it, but…if he’s a prick to ya or the kid…I can’t let him…”

“Thanks, but…don’t fight with Merle because of me, try to ignore it…” You still were afraid of Daryl resenting you, or Merle turning things around and putting Daryl against you. “Merle will get tired of trying to start bullshit, or will get used to me and you at some point, or…” You trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah…” Daryl didn’t sound convinced at all, though. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

*

On the next day, you didn’t hear from the Dixon’s, neither they came to visit you. It saddened you, you missed them, but you guessed that after all the mess with Merle yesterday, maybe they were trying to make things right again…Daryl had said that he was going to try to fix it…but you were worried that it might backfire.

Late that evening, there was a knock on your door, and you hoped that, like last night, it was Daryl coming to visit. When you opened, though, it wasn’t only Daryl, but also Sam, and you smiled at him, more than glad to see them.

“Hi, guys!”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sam grinned at you, lifting up a paper bag that he was carrying to give it to you. “We bring you tomatoes from the garden!”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you smiled at him, taking the bag. “What if we use some for dinner? Are you both staying?” You asked, looking at Daryl, who nodded.

“Yeah.”

Your smile went bigger at that, and Daryl’s lips curled up into a smile too.

Sam went to greet your cat, and you went to the kitchen to leave the tomatoes and start with dinner, Daryl following you.

“So…it’s Merle okay with Sam and you being here for dinner?” You ventured, wondered if Daryl had managed to talk sense into his brother for real.

“Nah,” Daryl snorted bitterly. “But he ain’t at home anyway. He wanted to go to the woods today with  Sam, but Sam was still upset so I thought I should go with them too…that’s why I didn’t come earlier.”

“That’s okay,” you said, reaching to squeeze his hand.

“We were in the woods most of the day, when we came back, Sam still looked upset, so I told him we could pick the tomatoes and bring them to you, that you’d like it, I thought it might cheer him up, it did,” Daryl explained, and you couldn’t help your smile at it. “But, yeah…Merle didn’t like it…began rantin’ ‘bout ya, got worse when I snapped, so I, uh…tried ignorin’ him like ya said…I ain’t sure but I think he got more pissed, and he left…guess he’s at the bar gettin’ drunk or somethin’.”

You let out a sigh, hating that there had been tension between Daryl and his brother yet again, due to you, and that Sam was in the middle.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah…at least we weren’t yellin’ with Sam there,” Daryl said, letting out a tired sigh, and you nodded, you were glad of that too.

That evening, Daryl and Sam stayed after dinner too, watching a movie and eating popcorn as you three used to do on weekends, and you couldn’t be more happy about it, trying to ignore your worry at Merle being mad at this and at how impossible it seemed to fix your relationship with him, no matter how much you knew you should, for Sam’s and Daryl’s sake.

*

The next morning, you were walking towards the school, when you saw Merle ahead on the street. You thought that maybe he was dropping Sam at the school that morning instead of Daryl…or maybe coming back home after a night out. It seemed the latest, because as you approached, you realized that he seemed drunk, or high, or maybe both. You hoped that, when he reached the Dixon’s cabin, Daryl’d have already taken Sam to school.

The street was too narrow to walk around Merle, and so you tried to keep it civil and polite, and greet him. “Good morning, Merle.”

You had tried to keep walking, but Merle stopped in front of you. “Look who I found…the bitch tryin’ to steal my family.”

“Merle, I am not trying to do that,” you said, feeling more than done. “Let me pass, I have to get to work.”

“Ya think ya can take my family from me, uh?” Merle kept going as if he didn’t hear you. “Put them against me? Ya think I’m gonna let ya?”

“Merle…again, I am not doing that,” you said doing your best to stay calm, even if you were a bit intimidated by Merle at that moment. “I’m sorry that you feel that way, and I’m sorry if I gave you that impression, but it’s not true, but if you feel like that, we both should sit down, talk about it, stop this misunderstanding, but again, not now, because I have to go to the school.”

“Ya think they’d choose ya? My brother and my kid?” Merle still didn’t seem to be listening to you. “Ya think they’d pick ya over me?”

“I don’t think anything like that, Merle, we’ll talk about it when you’re sober, I know you love Daryl and Sam, and I do too, so we really should get along, we both care for them, so-” You kept trying to reason, growing increasingly nervous, but Merle interrupted you again.

“Ya think yer so great, so better, all prim and proper…Go ahead, uppity bitch, ask them,” he said, smirking. “Ask them to pick ya, to choose ya over me, ya’ll see what ya get.”

“Merle, I am not doing that. Now go away and let me go.”

“Yeah…that’s what I thought…” He chuckled. “Ya ain’t askin’ ‘cause ya don’t dare…’cause ya know they ain’t gonna pick ya.”

“No, Merle, is not for that!” You couldn’t help but snap, hurt by this conversation. “It’s because I know that it’d hurt them, if I asked that from them, and I don’t want to hurt them, because as I’ve told you a million times, I care for them!”

“Ya try to take them from me, put them against me, but ya can’t… they ain’t gonna pick ya, they’re gonna choose me,” Merle kept taunting you.

“Oh, I know, I know that” you said, trying not to cry. “That’s what you wanted me to say? You win, then, I know it, because you are a damn lucky man, even if I think you don’t deserve it. Your brother? He loves you, no matter what, no matter all the shit you give him, all the shit he has to endure because of you and your selfish ass. Your kid? Since he was three, he’s only seen you for Christmas and on monthly prison visits, and still, he loves you the way he does, which is, let me tell you, a damn lot, even when you are the prick that you are to him. So, you better appreciate it more than you do!” You spat, angry and upset.

“So yes, they’d pick you, but it’d still hurt them to have to pick between you and me, so I’d never ask that from them, never wanted to, either. But if you want to ask that from them, because you are a selfish prick who doesn’t care for their happiness or their feelings, just for yourself, then, I guess I can’t stop you.” You kept ranting, not caring about the way Merle, who suddenly seemed to have lost his voice was glaring at you. “So do whatever you want to do and leave me alone, because I need to go to class!”

Merle and you kept glaring at each other, but he wasn’t moving out of the way, and you were about to resort to shove him, even if you weren’t sure if Merle, drunk and high, might not retaliate at that, when you heard a voice ahead of the street.

“Hey! What’s going on!”

You looked towards the voice and saw Tulip’s dad, probably on his way to work too.

“Nothing…just bumped into Merle, but he’s going home and I’m going to the school,” you said, pushing Merle with your shoulder and rushing down the street towards Tulip’s dad before Merle could snap.

“What was all that nonsense Merle and you were yelling about?” Tulip’s dad asked you, and you wondered how much he’d heard…and how much you had raised your voice without meaning to.

“Just that, nonsense…I really have to go to class.”

“Okay…hey, Y/N…school’s better since you’re there, and Daryl Dixon? He’s better too, and the kid, he always looks happy now,” Tulip’s dad said, and once again, you wondered how much he’d heard. “Don’t let Merle Dixon get to you.”

“Yeah…I’m trying not to…” You let out a sigh and gave him a weak smile. “Thanks…and to think that I used to think you too hated me,” you chuckled.

“Hate you? Nah…just thought you were…dunno…thought you weren’t gonna last a month here either, that you’d go back to whatever city you came from…but, here you are,” Tulip’s dad chuckled too.

“Yes…here I am, and no prick is making me leave” you said, smiling at Tulip’s dad. “Thanks, but I really, relly gotta go.”

“Okay, my wife we’ll go pick up Tulip later, goodbye.”

*

N/A

Thanks to the people who let me know they still read this., We’re almost at the end.

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, thanks, comments really make my days and make me happy about posting this.

Also, as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

New taglist for Daryl, if you want to be tagged let me know and also, please, if you are not interested in being tagged anymore let me know too, please.

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[bubbleecloud]

Yooo was wondering if you could do a tword Byler drawing or fic, whatever you prefer! But maybe a D&D au? :)))

Yes, absolutely! Sadly I know like nothing about dnd so hopefully this doesn't blow😭

"Relaxing"

Lee!Mike Ler!Will

~Will notices that Mike seems to be quite weary after all their adventures, luckily he's more than happy to help him wind down~

Dusk was setting, and the party was eager to settle down for the night. Then came the long, tiresome bother of setting up camp to recuperate from the long gruelling day of facing sudden death at every corner. At least, that was how Mike saw it. In truth, the young paladin truly did like the travels he set out on with his party, but he was in a particularly sour mood that day. He was just so tired!

He pulled his heavy armor off with a groan, happy to be rid of the cumbersome wears. His body was battered and bruised, aching with over exertion. Slowly, he laid down on his cot, set on getting a good night's sleep. Finally he could get some peace and-

"And just what does thou think they art doith?! "

Ah. Of course. Oooof course. Mike took a deep breath and slowly brought his body upward to glare at the boy peeking into his tent. Dustin was staring at him, an amused smile on the young Bards face.

"C'mon man, get up! It's grub time!"

He sighed. "Alright, alright, 'm comin"

---------------------

Gathered around a fire, the party ate. Mike had sat himself on a makeshift log seat next to Will, staring off into space while the other boys chatted about the days mishaps and planned for Tomorrow. Of course, Will noticed right away that his friend seemed off. He nudged Mike in the side with a small smile. "Hey, you.. Ok? "

"Wha-? Oh. Yea, yea uh- I'm fine"

The response came out as a mumble, and will took in his tired expression and slumped posture. He looked... exhausted! His frowned, and then stood up. " I think we should go to bed, we have a long day tomorrow, we need the energy! " His request was met with some light protest, but eventually they all settled down, with Mike and will retreating into their shared tent.

As soon as they were inside, Will turned to Mike again with concern. "Are you sure your ok, Mike? You don't have to lie to me, you know that right? " He sat down and put an arm around Mike's shoulder, patiently waiting for his response. Mike suddenly let out a loud sob, leaning into Will as all the pressure and strain of the last few days crashed on him. "Shit- I don't knowin just, I just- i- I can't- everythings just so- I'm so tired, Will! " He finished simply, wiping always his tears with embarrassment. Will frowned again, tightening his grip on Mike. "Hey, it's ok, it's ok! It's ok to be tired, Mike. With what we do all day, no one can expect you to be full of energy all the time. Maybe we'll all take a day off tomorrow and do things around camp yea? We all need a break, anyway. "

"I can't think of anything I'd like more, Jesus Christ-! " Will laughed at Mike's relieved tone, patting him on the back. "It'll be ok, you'll see.. "

He trailed off, and the two sat in silence for a moment and for a while Will thought Mike must have fallen asleep, until he suddenly said,

"Thanks, will... "

Will felt his breath catch in his chest for a moment. "Oh- of course! What else am I here for, right? " He asked, giving Mike a gentle nudge in the side.

Mike jumped, his breath hitched at the sudden feeling. The two sat in a tense silence, a smile steadily growing on Will's face. He had just been struck with the most amazing idea. "Hey Mike... I think I thought of a way for you to relax a little.. " Mike blushed, he eyes going wide. "Will- c'mon-"

He scooted away from Will, lovely bubbles of anticipation fluttering in his nervous system. Will followed his movement, hooking an arm around his hips before he could get away. Mike yelped and squirmed, but let's be honest, Will was pretty strong. "Cmon Mike, you need to loosen up a little! "

"Nooo- will please-! " Mile was cut off when will suddenly poked his side again, and giggles finally broke free from the poor guys lips. "Wihihill, dohon't! " Will smiled, he loved spending time with him like this. "Don't what, Mike? I'm a cleric, not a mind reader~" He moved his hands down to gently squeeze at his hips, noting the way Mike's laughter seemed to spike. He seemed so... Happy.

"Will nohohohoh!! GoddahahaHAMNIT! "

He weakly tugged at Wills hands, but he was determined. He pulled Mike closer.

"Aww is the strong paladin ticklish, huh? How cute~"

Rude! That was so unfair and will knew it! He "hated" when Will teased him like that! "wihiHIHILL NOHO! IHIHITS TOO LATE FOR THIHIHIS-! AH-!! "

He was cut off in his speech by Will suddenly scratching gently at his stomach, making Mike want to crawl out of his skin. "Oh, is it? Is it late, Michael? " He coo'd. "*YEHEHEHES*"

Will chuckled. "Wehell,you don't *seem* to be making much of an effort to get away from me~" Mike's face bloomed at being so balantantly called out, that mixed with the tickling and his ultimate tiredness pushes him over his cute limit.

"WIHIHIHILL! PLEHEHEHEHEASEEE! "

He grabbed onto his wrists in desperation, and Will slowly stopped his attack, running his fingers through Mike's hair as he soothed. "Alright, ahalright, I'm done, ya goof. " Mike giggled lazily, putting his arms around his neck.

"Fuck... 'M sleepy.. "

Will giggled. "I'm sure you are! Cmon, let's get some sleep."

And thus, the two settled down for some well deserved rest. A cleric and his paladin, together in peace.

Wooo I did it! I hope you all enjoy my brainrot, again I apologize if anything is inaccurate!

[thispabulum-blog]

A Wink's as Good as a Nod

What's the Tea? Tuesday

When we last left our heroes, Cuddlebug and I were having a nice, busy day.

Tuesday doesn't seem to exist.

Wednesday night we attempted to watch John Wick 2, but the definitely legal website we were using wasn't cooperating. We made a nice fast food run to grab some Wendy's (my God, Wendy really knows how to do lemonade, y'know?).

Few things make this boy as happy as watching a movie - or, more specifically, someone agreeing to watch a movie with him. If only I could get him to watch bad movies.

Thursday Cuddlebug woke me up by eating cereal at his desk, which I've asked him not to do while I'm sleeping (he apologized). I was supposed to have a cute date with Deep Dish, but he had to cancel because one of his kids was sick and he needed to take them to the doctor. And then Cuddlebug quit his job.

It was an eventful morning. Since he didn't have to go to work, we spent a few hours in bed.

For dinner we actually cooked together, which is somehow a thing we hadn't done up to that point. It worked really well, except that I burned my hand being a little careless throwing salmon into a pan and also by not realizing that salmon fucks up my stomach something awful.

We started the most recent season of Better Call Saul. We have not finished it, so no spoilers.

Later I got to finally have Cuddlebug watch (500) Days of Summer, having previously established that he doesn't really understand the concept of Manic Pixie Dream Girls. His thoughts:

It was a very well-made movie. I liked pretty much everything. I hated the characters.

Yeah, he gets it.

For the record, Dr. Strangelove did not.

Friday I had a migraine, and nothing would touch it. I spent most of the day time-traveling to collect art in Animal Crossing, one of my favorite meta-gaming pastimes.

My head hurt so badly that I didn't want to watch Better Call Saul, but I told Cuddlebug I'd be willing to watch a movie if it was something I'd seen. So he pulled out his list and we landed on Arrival.

CB: I think this might be my favorite extraterrestrial movie.

Me: Yeah? What's your second favorite?

CB: I'm not sure, they're mostly shit. The Thing?

After the movie I was feeling hungry, and I ended up picking out a can of biscuits that I guess had been in the fridge for quite some time, because they goddamn EXPLODED out of the can as soon as I started to open it - so much so that three of the biscuits were mangled and I had to squish them back into shape. If I'd recorded that it would have been hilarious.

Saturday I had what I refer to as a "migraine hangover", where the localized area of intense pain seemed to have dissipated and was now a low-level sensitivity spread out over my entire head, threatening to flare up. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it felt really...raw. Idk. Migraines are weird.

Cuddlebug was nice enough to only bitch a little about dropping me off at his favorite Chinese restaurant to have lunch with Dr. Strangelove - I think mostly because it compelled him to run his errands and he didn't want to yet.

Lunch went okay. The food was great - except I thought I ordered beef with broccoli and she definitely bought me a plate of broccoli, and I didn't feel like being assertive enough to correct her. I fucking love broccoli, though. Conversation was okay and he didn't ask any of his usual weird/difficult questions. I didn't feel great, so we didn't hang out terribly long.

Back at the Cuddlebug house I got a short lecture about recycling after putting a can in the garbage, which included the stupidest possible explanation of what is recyclable: "Anything magnetic, anything flammable, anything that holds liquids efficiently" so nobody listen to my boyfriend when he talks about anything, please.

That evening, I connected some dots that I really should have been smart enough to put together sooner, and realized that one of my biggest migraine triggers is mold (especially food mold), and Cuddlebug hasn't really cleaned out his fridge since his roommates moved out.

He tried to get me to come into the kitchen while he was making dinner, and I explained this to him. He was instantly horrified, and kicked me out of the kitchen so he could start throwing things out. He's a good kid.

Also. He was getting ready to make some pasta with chicken for dinner, and he was like "Oh no, the chicken isn't thawed all the way. Do you want me to use bacon instead?" (and I did NOT because I know how long that bacon has been in the fridge and how poorly it's stored) so I made him let me feel the chicken and I told him "Nah, it's mostly thawed. Actually it'll be a lot easier to cut up if it's still a little frozen, and since you're sautéing the pieces they'll cook just fine." And of course he piped up "Wow, you were right!" once he'd done it. I like it when I can teach him a thing, and he integrates that into his life.

But it's a good tip in general. Chicken can be particularly difficult to cut (especially if your knives aren't super sharp) because it moves around so much, but if it's a bit frozen it's usually stiff enough to stay still. I've done the same with beef, and also cheese.

My head felt so much better after dinner! So much so that we went on an ice cream run, where we purchased our own half-gallons of the two most different ice cream flavors - Double Vanilla for the boy, Denali Extreme Moose Tracks for me.

Sunday morning I got a very cute text from Item 9 which was just a picture of a (beautiful) pancake he made. Success! I knew he could do it.

Cuddlebug offered to take me to lunch before he drove me home, and we ended up at my favorite Indian buffet. It was delicious, and I got him to try some new things that he hadn't had before.

There was this table of 5 college-age guys two tables over from us. They weren't being super loud, but we could hear their entire conversation. And for some reason, they kept talking about rats. Like "oh we found this rat in our apartment" "at least it was just one rat" "it's never just one rat" "my girlfriend was freaking out because she hates rats", which is...not great lunch conversation. And every time I thought they had moved on, they'd bring it up again. Finally I was like "Hey guys! Could you please stop talking about rats?" And they did! And they weren't dicks about it.

I hate confrontation, so I'm glad this one worked out.

Monday was a nothing day. I watched The Masked Singer, applied for jobs, played Animal Crossing, prayed for summer to be over - and with the forecast this week, that one might actually be happening.

[strabbyshortcake]

the truth about snaktooth

Gramble finally tells his partners what befell him and everybody else on the island.

“Whatcha doin’, Gram?”

The screen door clatters as it shuts behind Boots. It’s a nice summer night, one of the rare ones they got with little humidity, so Gramble had left the main door open, the sound of katydids and crickets drifting through from the outdoors. He looks up from the hand towel in his paws, shoulders hunched guiltily.

There’s a large cardboard box sitting on the floor, full of bits of kitchen décor. Ceramic plates with fruit stenciled on them, prints of vintage ads for bread and desserts, towels with produce embroidered on them. All the kitschy things Boots knew he liked decorating his spaces with, and Gramble spent more time in the kitchen than either her or Piesha, with how much he enjoyed cooking.

“Oh, evenin’ Boots,” he greets her, expression softening into a smile. “You remember we talked about Lizbert and Egg visitin?”

“Yeah…?” She pads over, frowning a little at the bare spots on the walls and shelves. Boots was acquainted with the two from attending expedition reunions with Gramble, and while she made it no mystery that she disliked Lizbert’s invasive style of exploration, it was all in the past. Liz had retired from that life after the whole Snaktooth stunt to become a museum curator. “What’s the matter, they allergic to tackiness?”

Gramble laughs at her affectionate teasing. “No, well… Actually, funny you should say that. Egg’s fine, but Liz has got… I guess you could say she’s got kind of a hang-up over food imagery. And while she’s doin’ well these days, might just make her a lil’ more comfortable to not feel so surrounded, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you.” Boots nods, reaching up to take the clock off the wall. It’s a piece of painted wood in the shape of a strawberry. Nollie had made it in an art class. “Place is a little dusty, anyway.”

Together he and Boots work to mostly strip the place of any food-related decoration, leaving only a couple little accents up so the place didn’t seem too bare. Gramble sighs at the empty walls, leaning into Boots’ touch as she places a paw on his shoulder.

She and Pie had always been so understanding when he told them he couldn’t talk about what had happened on the island, but he hated to keep his loved ones in the dark. Not simply for the fact that there might still be danger lurking out there, but that he knew he could trust them, and yet, just telling them what had happened was almost as terrifying as the thought of being back there. The idea that just speaking of it would somehow make it manifest, bring it back into his life when he’d worked so hard to escape it, haunted him, but so did keeping it bottled up inside.

“…I need to tell you both what really happened,” he says quietly. “It’s been long enough. Just, after Liz and Egg are gone. Then we’ll talk about it.”

Boots blinks down at him in surprise. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

--

The visit went well. This was the first time Lizbert and Eggabell had seen the new house and the refurbished barn, the first they’d met Cardi and Dember, and Nollie had only been a year old when they’d last come around. They’d caught up, shared stories, enjoyed Gramble’s cooking and chatted about where their lives were going and where they’d been.

After they’d waved goodbye, gotten in Eggabell’s car and driven off to see Wambus and Triffany, after the dishes had been cleared and cleaned and the kids were all in bed, Gramble sat Boots and Piesha down on the porch swing in the back while he took the rocking chair.

“I need to tell you,” he says, fidgeting with his paws where they rested on his chest. “about what happened on Snaktooth.”

“Alright.” Pie nods slowly, leaning into Boots’ cushy side. Boots gives him an encouraging smile, rocking the swing back and forth slightly with her heel.

Gramble swallows, licking his lips. “So… Not all of what I told you was a cover-up. We did run outta food and I did almost starve to death. But… Geez, I dunno where to even start.”

“Why’d you go in the first place?” Boots asks.

“Oh, that I didn’t lie about either. My mama really did up and leave while I was at college. I went cuz… Cuz I guess I felt like I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I saw Liz on TV say she was gatherin’ people up for her team and I just… I wanted somewhere to go that wasn’t home.”

She nods solemnly, gesturing for him to go on.

“Well, Snaktooth… Liz said she found somethin’ there. These creatures she was documenting. D’you… Have either of you ever heard of bugsnax?” Gramble nearly whispers the last word, even though it’s just the three of them out here, just the three of them and the crickets and fireflies, the kids sound asleep.

Piesha tilts her head, thoughtful. “Mm… Maybe a long time ago,” Pie says. “One of those things they got lots of fairy tales about. Critters made of food, right?”

“Right.” Gramble nods. “But they’re real. And please- I know how it sounds,” he stammers, even though neither of them looked skeptical. “But I swear. I saw them, I picked them up and held them, I had a whole barn full of them that Liz and Buddy caught for me. I had names for them, and… and everybody said they were the most delicious things they’d ever eaten. B-but there’s a reason for that. Sorry, lemme go back a bit and explain.

“When we got there, we thought we’d be able to farm. That was Wambus’s thing, but no matter what he tried, the crops would wither, or the bugsnax would get in and destroy them. The only thing he could grow was the sauce that grew on the island, and that wasn’t anywhere near enough to live on. Pretty soon we ran outta food, but that wasn’t a problem for most folks. They’d just eat the bugsnax.”

“And I’m guessin’ you didn’t?” Boots asks.

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t want to. I already didn’t eat meat, and the snax were always so cute and friendly and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurtin’ them. So I just… didn’t. I tried to live off the sauce, and I ate dandelions and weeds, I ate damn near anything that was edible, but it was never enough.”

“That’s awful, Gram.” Boots says, her brows knitted. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“Well, I… I thought about it,” Gramble wraps his arms around himself. “Even though I didn’t have nowhere to return to, I figured it might be better than starving. But it wasn’t too long after that Lizbert up and disappeared. Her and Egg, there was an earthquake and after that they never came back to town. Some folks thought they died, others thought they ran off, but without her nobody was bringin’ in bugsnax to eat and they started to eat mine, so I ran off with the rest of ‘em and that made everybody mad and I really did start to think there was nobody who cared about me but the snax and Wiggle, and… and even she was eatin’ them too, but I let her cuz I didn’t have nobody else... I was so afraid she’d leave me too that I put up with it.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. “So, um… I guess a couple weeks after that, Buddy finally showed up. We’d been on the island almost a year at that point. They wanted to interview Liz, figure out what happened, and they managed to get all of us back into town within a week or two. I was really doin’ poorly though.” His claws absently scratch at his belly over the scar that the rake had left, concealed beneath his fur but never fully faded.  “Didn’t care much whether I lived or died. Nothin’ I tried worked, and one of the big snax I asked Buddy for nearly killed me. And then…”

Boots holds Pie’s paw between both of hers, stroking it, both of them patiently waiting for him to gather his racing thoughts. It had been so long since he’d even thought about all this, and much of the events were a haze of hunger and pain, he was amazed he could keep the basic timeline coherent.

“Then, one night… When we were all back in town, Filbo decided he wanted to throw a party. That was when everything… That’s when it all fell apart. There was an active volcano on the island, and it erupted. Eggabell suddenly showed up back in town and told us she knew where Liz was, and she and Buddy and Filbo ran off to get her while the rest of us tried to get to safety. B-but… You remember what I said before, about the bugsnax?” He lifts his gaze to the two of them.

Pie nods at him. “Yeah. They taste good, right?”

“They also…” Gramble holds his paws out, curling his fingers into fists. “They change you. Whenever you eat one, your body parts become it. I know it sounds silly, but everybody was walkin’ around with arms and legs made of strawberries and corn and cinnamon rolls and you kinda just… got used to it. I only ever ate one when I was sleepwalkin’, and I don’t even remember what it was like, but everybody else except Shelda ate ‘em all the time. You get used to it and then you start believin’ that they’re the only thing that can make you feel good anymore. Sorta like drugs, but sorta like… Wiggle used to say they inspired her, and Chandlo thought he could get stronger with them, it was whatever you wanted. I guess even I was fallin’ for it, thinkin’ they could replace my family, and I never even had to eat ‘em.

“But that’s the trick. You get dependent, but you don’t realize that… That they’re parasites. And I’m kinda fuzzy on the details, but according to Buddy, Liz was somehow stuck down in the main… meat of the hive,” Gramble brings his paws together, looking down at his intertwined fingers. “And that’s where she’d been all along, down in the darkness with all those food bugs crawlin’ all over her and into her mouth and… that’s why she’s got such a thing about food.”

“Ah…” He can’t blame Boots for looking a little numb, covering her mouth with her paw as Pie stares blankly at him. It was a lot to take in. “Yeah, I guess that’d do it.”

Gramble goes on. “They attacked us not long after Buddy and the others left, tryin’ to force themselves into our mouths, or kill us, either or. I guess they knew the jig was up, then and there. No comin’ back from that. But we all got away, in the end… And that’s what happened.”

He falls silent. The porch swing creaks slightly as Boots lets it come to a stop, letting the singing of the insects fill the air between them for a long moment.

“S’this place still out there…?” Piesha speaks up softly, glancing out into the darkness as if the snax might be watching from the trees.

“Far as I know,” Gramble says, slipping off the chair to walk over and take one of their paws in each of his. “But you gotta promise me you will never, ever go there.” His expression is grim as he peers up at them. “And you’ll never breathe a word to any of the kids about it, or to anybody else. Nobody should ever step foot on that awful place again.”  

“Gram,” Boots squeezes his paw in return, then leans over to scoop him up and pull him into her lap, the swing groaning in complaint as yet another grumpus is piled upon it. “…there’s gotta be somethin’ we can do-”

“No.” Gramble shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “I- I don’t know. Maybe there is somethin’ that someone out there can do, but it can’t be any of us. I don’t want nothin’ to do with it ever again and if word gets out, it’s just gonna be more people goin’ there and that’s exactly what it wants. Please,” he tilts his head up at her, the porch light glimmering in his eyes. “Just leave it alone. It can’t get us here and I want it to stay that way. Promise me.”

When she hesitates, he repeats himself, teeth glinting as his lips peel back. “Promise me, please-”

“I promise.” Boots leans down to kiss him on the nose, wrapping her arm around him as the other draws Pie in closer. “I won’t tell nobody if that’s what you want.”

“That’s all that I want,” he murmurs into her fluffy chest, suddenly very tired despite the mental weight that had lifted. He’d spoken Snaktooth’s name aloud, finally uncorked what he’d kept bottled up for nearly two decades now. He should feel better-prepared, now that they were all on the same page, so why did he still feel like he was only summoning the beast? Perhaps he just needed to sleep, let this new information digest, and they’d face whatever came tomorrow together.

Hundreds of miles away, the island remembers them too.

[1ddotdhq]

🍌Wed 2 Dec ‘20💚

Harry Styles Reacts to Banana Innuendo Rumors by Making EVEN MORE Banana Innuendos part TWO

Good morning/evening/night to Harry’s post and Harry’s post ONLY! (Okay that’s not true but it was definitely a highlight of my day). In case people haven’t seen it yet, it’s Harry in a light blue custom made suit putting a penis banana in his mouth. The picture is captioned “Bring Back Manly Men” so take a suck on THAT Candace Owens! It was only one of many great pictures in his variety shoot (including another, um, fruity picture of him biting into a pomegranate okay Persephone we get it), but Harry did indeed choose That One to post on This, the day after banana necklace dickscourse, BLESS. Harry’s interview was a little more in depth than they have been in the past, touching upon his feelings on race (“Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music. There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change”), as well as his tattoos (the only time he regrets them is in the DWD makeup chair), his love of reading, fashion and art, his exercise routine (Kid Harpoon couldn’t keep up!),  and his feelings on success and acclaim (“It’s never why I do anything...it's always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff...Fans are the best A&R”). 

The problems arose - as they so often do - when One Direction was mentioned. The article said that “The proof [of the band’s benefits] is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members- Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles- each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond”. Leaving aside the bad math (that's 4 people!) one name, of course, is notably missing: Louis has in fact enjoyed quite a lot of success both with Walls (remember when his album went #1 on iTunes in the UK AND the US literally 2 months ago?) and his pre-Walls singles like “Back To You” and “Just Hold On”. It got worse because the author tried to back up her claim with Harry’s quote, “When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band...but we loved being in the band...I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it”. By linking her own words with Harry's quote she made it seem as though Harry said it to agree with her biased take, which we'd know he didn't even if we hadn't heard him say this exact quote without that slant multiple times before. Fans were quick to point out both to the author and to Variety that they were wrong (to describe the reaction mildly), and the author rather than fixing the mistake, doubled down and began blocking fans. Plenty of people were quick to say that of course HSHQ and Harry had approved this content, despite more knowledgeable fans trying to be heard protesting that that is not how it works. (Remember how just recently Vogue got Harry’s whole ass FAMILY situation wrong and it was not corrected until after print, for example?) In fact, even the magazine didn't really proofread this- the print version of the article is different and says, “The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members - Styles, Malik and Horan”, effectively erasing both Louis AND Liam. It's an annoying take either way, but it's one the author more than likely picked up by doing her research on harrie twitter, not on orders from Jeff.

And because we DO NOT STAND FOR LILO ERASURE ON THIS BLOG, let’s talk about Liam’s Web Summit panel! It was 25 minutes of Liam and Marian Dicus (VP of Spotify) being interviewed about the current and future state of the music industry. Both of them, of course, noted that things had changed very quickly in their careers back at the beginning of lockdown, and how it had seemed surreal, at first, but that Liam had found that the way he was operating now (with Veeps and Tik Tok and Instagram lives) had made his platform a two way interaction with his fans. “For a long time I've been living in a dream world where I thought I was speaking with my fans but really I was just talking at them whereas we as artists ask a lot of rhetorical questions... I wanted to start a conversation”. Marian discussed how engaging fans differently WAS one of the most difficult things to puzzle out at the beginning, but that as months have passed, it seems artists like Liam have found a viable virtual future in the music industry (Liam tells us that he's been doing “stadium size shows” on Veeps which is an exciting clue about the mystery of how many tickets they're selling). They also went into the way music trends change as a response to social and political occurrences, how comfort songs gave way to protest songs this summer. Liam said, “People want their artists to have an opinion nowadays it's not that we can stay out of the conversation anymore-- and nor do we feel that we should in many places-- but for me it's a fine line because I realize what I do for people is an escape, people don't want things rammed down their throats every day and news messages from me about things that they don't want to hear about if they've come to listen to music, so its a real fine line that we kind of teeter on”. And about his opening acts, he acknowledges that his fanbase are mostly young women (based on the data breakdowns he gets from his team), and so he feels a responsibility to mentor young female artists in the industry so that more people like his fans have a voice. In an interview full of really fascinating music and technical discussions, this remained my favorite moment from Liam. Just like we won’t erase HIM, he refuses to erase US! And let's not forget our Liam alarm of the day-- it starts out absolutely adorable (“good moooorning!”), is hilarious in that apparently he just rambled completely unscripted and then they awkwardly cut it into 25 parts, but today's installment is frankly not relaxing! “only 23 sleeps til christmas have you done your shopping are you prepared” excuse me Liam YOU ARE STRESSING ME OUT. The promised relaxing sleep story affirmations are still 'coming soon'-- hurry up please I need them to decompress after that alarm!

Now for a lightning round of epic proportions: DWD darling pictures and vids keep comin’ and Harry and Florence are both looking GORGEOUS as Jack and Alice,  after the Variety shoot dropped ‘THE CAPTION’, ‘BRING BACK MANLY MEN’, and ‘LOUIS IS SUCCESSFUL’ trended worldwide on twitter, Tan France said “yes please” to Harry's banana post, Harry reiterated that London was home and he didn’t want to be in LA for longer than he needed to,Variety has its virtual show tomorrow at 5 pm PST so see you there! Veeps is sending out emails promoting Louis’ show to people who bought LP show tickets, fans have already started to receive their Louis Tomlinson Live From London merch, Trinity College in Dublin’s Law society presented Niall with an award for, uh, his Irishness, I guess? (Just kidding, it’s for “his incredible talent and work ethics which is famously underscored by a distinct humility despite unthinkable success”). It looks like he will be giving a talk when he’s presented with it, and I’m honestly really interested to see what it’s all about - is he...gonna be talking to law students? Idk but tune in on December 7th at 12 pm GMT to find out!

[anunvalidcritic]

INVINCIBLE: S1-EP1

(DISCLAIMER: MY OPINION IS MY OWN AND CAN BE DEEMED INVALID TO THOSE WHO DON’T CARE FOR IT.)

So I was on my Prime Video account, and I saw that there was a new animated superhero. As I watched the teaser I thought, “Man, I gotta do better at seeing new shows.” So I watched it and JESUS CHXST SOOOO MUCH HAPPENED IN THE FIRST EPISODE!!! 

                                          IT’S ABOUT TIME

The way this show started really threw me for a loop because it fully invested me in this conversation about STEVE’s step son MATT...

“I’m supposed to learn to tuck and roll away from a guy who can shoot laser out of his eyes, or control minds, or kick a goddamn school bus to the moon?” - 

He’s got a point...

MATT had it rough y’all...

Don’t start cryin’ STEVE... not at work

The art style kinda reminds me of the BOONDOCKS

STEVE don’t start stumblin’ on your words now..

WAR WOMAN slapped him with that weapon like nothin’

RED RUSH + Zoomin’ to Fast = Vomit

He didn’t have to throw that civilian by the head like that ROFL

I won’t lie... as soon as I saw this man I immediately thought... “Black Batman”... I am ashamed

They are really fuckin’ up the WHITE HOUSE... I wonder how the taxpayers feel about this??

We appreciate the diversity in in any show!

Ahh high school drama... gotta love it....

LMAO ANDREW is into mustaches

TODD has such a dicky name... I feel bad for the dudes named Todd. 

Ahh come on, MARK! Your dad is OMNI-MAN, and he didn’t teach you to block a hit like that??

AMBER comin’ in clutch with the kick to the balls

BUGER MART = BURGER KING

I really hope those trash bags don’t bust open on him...

...well damn...

OMNI-MAN is not lookin’ excited about him getting his powers. I think we can all agree that there’s a little more to their powers...

CAAANNNNAAAADDDDAAAAA

Dude, don’t psych yourself out, just do it!

He practically floated into the stratosphere and hit that ground like nothing 

TRAINING W/ OMNI-MAN

My mouth was a bit ajar listening to the pee analogy

“Try to hit me.” - OMNI-MAN

Now you know damn well he can’t hit you...

BRO HE DIDN’T HAVE TO ROCK HIS SON’S SHIT LIKE THAT!!!!!!!!

“I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.” - OMNI-MAN

dude your face says otherwise

Something is off with OMNI-MAN...

I would’ve slammed the door as well... if I lived in the same household as him ROFL

Alright, so now it’s confirmed that ANDREW doesn’t know that OMNI-MAN is MARK’s father. I thought he might of because of the whole mustache comment but that is not the case lol. 

If a guy is telling you to repeatedly him and he slowly becomes numb to it then you should probably start walking TF AWAY

Look at all that property damage....

“What about Ass Kicker? No... that sounds willful childish.” - MARK

MARK your dad is on a different level... don’t have him rock yo shit again..

I’m not vibing with the orange outfit...

“Make me.” - MARK

I could never and I MEAN NEVER say some shit like that to my mom, superhero or NOT

“I’m nothing like Dad. I’m more like you. I’m nothing special.” - MARK

Well, fuck you too MARK fuck... you...too

I like how they’re just playing catch in the middle of the sky above their neighborhood like it’s nothing. 

That ball is going all the way around the world like a fuckin’ merry-go-round!

He is now...INVINCIBLE

Great solo flying sequence

“You guys think your biting off a little more than you can chew? That building has a whole in it, look!” - KILL CANNON

I liked how he asked if it was all clear after he punched him through the building.

RED RUSH + CONVERSATION = BORDEM

lol dude is the prime video version of Marvel’s Vulture

So everybody’s gettin’ called to the base... is there an invasion going on??

DARK WING has some cool tech!

Alright, everybody’s accounted for... who called the team meeting if it wasn’t any of th

NO NOT RED RUSH!!!!!!!!!!!

“Why have you done this?” - THE IMMORTAL

yeah I wanna know tooo!

ofc the one with no powers gets fuckin’ DEMOLISHED in a heartbeat!

GREEN GHOST did not have to go out like that!

ICONIC DIALOGUE

AQUARUS - “Are you alright?!”

MARTIAN MAN - “I live.”

BRO WAR WOMAN & THE IMMORTAL ARE GOIN’ IN!!!! I MEAN THIS IS THE EQUIVALENT TO BUCKY AND CAP TAG TEAMIN’ IRON MAN!!

WHAT EH FUCK JUST HAPPENED!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! OMNI-MAN HAS LOST HIS FUCKING MIND!!!!!!!!

.... at least WAR WOMAN got her neck snapped...

SOMEBODY BETTER TELL ME THAT SHIT WAS UST A DREAM!?!?

nah that was real because he looked a little to tired from that dead

______

THIS SERIES IS ALREADY FUCKING AMAZING! My God, I’m already excited for a season two LOL. Let’s get to episode two, shall we? Just remember that everyone’s a critic when their opinion matters the least. 

List of Episodes with link :) ~

EP1 - EP2 - EP3 - EP4 - EP5 - EP6 - EP7 - EP8

[paleparearchive]

Good at Pampering

Renoir's 2nd initial 3★ story (1/2) ( 1 - 2 )

Location: atelier (morning) ; museum hallway (morning) | Characters: Renoir, Van Gogh, Da Vinci, Michelangelo

Van Gogh: Hey hey, what do you think of this background? Should it be brighter?

Michelangelo: Sigh, shut up. I guess I should go back to my room after all…

Da Vinci: Oh my, why do you not at least answer this? Is it really that difficult for a shut-in to have a conversation like this?

Michelangelo: No, I just want to carve in peace…

Renoir: Hi, how are you guys? Are you taking a break?

Michelangelo: … Sigh, another noisy one joined.

Renoir: It's already afternoon, and things are starting to boil over a bit, am I right? So, let's eat this all together.

Da Vinci: Assorted sweets and fruits…!

Van Gogh: Thanks, Renoir-san! How did you get this?

Renoir: A certain charming lady offered me this. For when I accompanied her to dinner a while ago.

Van Gogh: Wait, so a date!? Do you have a girlfriend, Renoir-san?

Renoir: Maybe we were lovers for as long as we were dating.

Van Gogh: Ah, no way! You were picking up girls again!

Michelangelo: You'll get stabbed one day, y'know…

Da Vinci: Nom nom… nom nom…

Renoir: Fufu, Da Vinci seems to be enjoying it.

Da Vinci: … I was working on a production a while ago. I need to get some sugar in my system as soon as possible.

Michelangelo: Even if you say that, I get the feelin' that you just wanted to eat.

Da Vinci: Absolutely not. .. Ah, I will take that chocolate there if you do not eat it. Nom nom…

Michelangelo: Pretty sure I'm right…

Van Gogh: But... Is it okay if we eat it? It was given to you by a girl you dated, right?

Renoir: Of course it's fine. What's important is not to eat the sweets, but to savor her feelings.

Van Gogh: Hmmm, I don't really get it, but if that's what you say, I guess it's ok!

Da Vinci: There is nothing wrong with that. Because sugar should be shared equally.

Renoir: Right right, don't hesitate to eat. There's fruit, too.

Van Gogh: Wow, that's a beautiful apple. I want to eat… but I also want to draw it…!

Renoir: Certainly the color and gloss are good, and there are no scratches. It's a nice apple. But isn't it enough just to look at it because it's beautiful? Just like women.

Michelangelo: How do you keep comin' up with one cold line after another…

Van Gogh: Hmmm… So that's it. I might as well eat it! All in one bite!

Da Vinci: I feel it would be dangerous for you to handle a knife, so it would be better that way, Van Gogh-san.

Renoir: Oh, Michelangelo, you're not eating anything? There's still so much more.

Michelangelo: I'm good. I'm not really interested in sweets or anythin'.

Da Vinci: Renoir-san, please do not worry about it. Because what Michelangelo needs to live is not sugar, but blocks of stone.

Van Gogh: Aren't you eating anything either, Renoir-san? You just brought it and never touched it, did you?

Renoir: I'm filled with conversation with the ladies. Don't worry about me.

Ah, however… Can I just take this one?

Da Vinci: Grape… is it?

Renoir: Yes, I thought I would bring it to Bazille.

Well then, you're all free to take the rest.

Da Vinci: And he has gone. Nom nom…

Van Gogh: Nom nom… Renoir-san must be very popular to get such delicious apples.

Michelangelo: Finally, one of the noisy ones is gone. Bazille, how can you stay with that one all year round…

—

Renoir: (I'm glad they were pleased with it. Da Vinci was such a good eater.)

Alright, where could Bazille beee?~

Hm? This voice–

???: HUH!? FOR REAL!? You're aaawesome!!

???: Yeah, I learned that when I studied before. By analyzing art through the principles of psychology–

Renoir: Fufu, fouuund you!

[snowbellewells]

CSSS20 Fic: “One Little Ray of Hope”

Merry Merry Christmas @let-it-raines!!! Can you believe we ended up being each other’s Secret Santas?!?  It was all I could do not to spoil the surprise yesterday when you posted your amazing story gift for me, but here I am finally with yours in return, and I truly hope you will enjoy it.

You mentioned that you like friends-to-lovers and mutual pining, which I genuinely tried to do to the best of my ability. However, I discovered neither of those things are actually types of fic I have done much.  This comes out more like bantering crushes, and Emma-in-denial-finally-admitting-what-everyone-else-already-knows. I did set it in the Enchanted Forest for you, and I tried to mix in the humor and the feels so it has a bit of everything. And there are Christmas touches but it isn’t holiday overwhelming. I got to the stopping place I envisioned though, and it just wasn’t enough. I hope you will forgive me if I say this is only Part One and there will be a Part Two coming shortly once the holiday hoopla dies down. (In all honesty, I was anxious that my story was for you - I love your writing so much, and I am not at all sure this measures up! And then I read your gift and was even more blown away.)  Still, here’s hoping this brings a smile to a shipmate like you who has been so friendly and kind and made me smile with your writing all year long!  Part Two - and hopefully some fic cover art - to follow soon!)

“One Little Ray of Hope”

by: @snowbellewells

               Though the fire in the stone hearth was blazing merrily, the lights from their lamps combatted the dark sky and frigid wind blasting flurries of snow outside their windows, and the jovial voices of many of their regulars mingled on the air to make things cozy inside the little inn and tavern, Emma Swan still shivered at the winter's chill. There, was some hint of frost that wouldn't go away, forming small icy crystals inside her chest - one particular voice that always stood out from the rest to her ears, was missing. She cursed herself for noticing, cursed him for being so unmistakable, and slammed an empty tankard onto her tray as she cleared the just-vacated table more violently than she had meant to.

               Naturally Ruby would be passing by just then, on her way to wait on some exuberant new arrivals, and she playfully arched one of her dark brows with a teasing smirk. "Looks like someone's a little frustrated this evening."

               From over her shoulder, where Emma hadn't even realized anyone was nearby, Tink tittered with a playful little giggle to Ruby, "Well, you know, we do seem to be short some of Emma's favorite guests this evening…" pirate was not her special anything. Honestly, she was just tired, overworked, overheated, and ready for some fresh air away from the evening crowd. It didn't have anything to do with the fact that Captain Killian Jones, with his unfairly blue eyes and his stomach-flipping accent wasn't here pestering her and getting in her way. What did she care if his farewell to her before he set sail nearly two months' back was that he would return in time for the Yuletide festivities? False hope and nonsense, all of it anyway…

               And yet… tomorrow was Christmas day, her traitorous mind whispered as she plunked her heavy tray of dishes on the counter where the Widow Lucas - the proprietor of their inn, and 'Granny' to all of them - was serving up orders and Ashley was doing dishes as fast as she could to serve warm bread and hearty stew on them once more. Again, her approach was none too gentle, as she huffed out a breath of air and pushed her hair from her face impatiently.

               "Careful there, my girl. Any dishes you break will be comin' from your pay," the widow threatened idly. Granny put on a tough front - one had to in a rough and tumble harbor town - and she meant business if she had to bring out her crossbow from where she kept it close to hand beneath the counter, but she was a soft heart beneath the necessary bluster and hard shell. She loved all "her girls" and most of her patrons dearly, wanting them to know they were welcome and cared for in her inn - and while many like she and her granddaughter had little in the way of blood-related family, she aimed to give them a feeling of home in her place.

               Emma smiled slightly, acknowledging Granny's words without comment, despite knowing the older woman would do no such thing. She unloaded the dirtied tankards and bowls more carefully into the soapy water for Ashley and forced herself to draw a couple of deep breaths as Granny loaded her up with the next order.

               Just as Emma moved to lift the tray and move off again, Granny placed her own hand over Emma's kindly, keeping her there until Emma met her eyes. "Don't let Ruby irk you. She means no harm," was the quietly offered advice, to which Emma nodded sagely, already knowing as much. It was only when Granny winked and added, "Of course, if you're awaiting some handsome sailor, I wager he'll be here soon," that Emma let out an exasperated huff and spun away to the sound of her boss and pseudo-grandmother's laughter at her back. Shaking her head, she seethed, 'Everyone thinks I'm waiting for Jones…. Well, I'm not!'

               The night went on without much further interruption; the snow fell in continued flakes, swirled and eddied by the window and pilling up on the windowsills. Inside their crowded tavern, however, the cozy warmth continued to rise right along with the songs and laughter of those gathered within. Soon Emma found her face flushed, cheeks pinked from the heat and close quarters. Even as the gathered crowd began to dwindle, slowly trickling out the door and homeward in twos and threes, as she, Ruby, Tink, and Ashley began to wipe down empty tables and see to storing up leftover food and seeing drinks stoppered and sealed for the night. Granny had gone upstairs nearly an hour before as the midnight hour had come and gone, claiming her old bones needed the rest, and Mulan, who did not appear the musical type, but who had once confessed when more than a bit tipsy on dwarf mead that her parents had seen that she was learn all sorts of marriageable skills in the hopes of seeing her matched with a smart, dashing husband before she had left hoe to make her own way - had switched from plunking out bawdy sea shanties and reels for the gathered revelers and lighting begun pecking out chords to a few softer and slower Yuletide carols as a background accompaniment to the cleaning and the quieter murmurs of those who still lingered in conversation over their last drinks.

               Not long after, Ruby silently slipped out the kitchen exit in back with the solemn huntsman who came every night to break bread and drink not at all other than to drink in her presence and bask in her company had stood and followed her like a silent shade as she beckoned from the doorway. Ashley had headed upstairs herself for some rest in her own apartments, as had Tink, saying the last town gazette's gossip section was calling her name. Mulan had paused at the door before heading to her own house a couple streets over, telling Emma she would make rounds of the block first, to see that all stragglers had gone home, and no trouble was lingering about them before she left.

               Emma thanked the beautiful warrior sincerely, knowing that it was no more or less than the other woman did every night, determined that these friends who took her and all others at face value, welcoming all lost and weary travelers without trying to change them were safe and secure. She would see no harm come to the Widow Lucas and her adopted "sisters" on her watch; Emma knew Mulan took that charge upon herself as a sworn duty. The rest of them would never have put such weight on her shoulders, but each one of them also slept easier knowing Mulan was nearby. The slim build, shining curtain of silky black hair and delicate features could have long ago earned Mulan the hand of any prince, pirate, or nobleman who laid eyes on her, but those physical attributes all deceptively hid her strength, speed, and core of deadly steel if anyone threatened harm to those she loved.

               "We'll be alright," Emma assured again, as Mulan bid her goodnight. "Everyone was in good spirits this evening. No fights, no trouble. Please rest easy once you get home. I can't imagine anything should happen until we see you again tomorrow."

               "As you say," the raven-haired woman replied simply, and with a slight dip of her head in a bow, she turned and slipped into the night with such soundless agility and grace that she seemed to melt into the darkness - unseen in mere seconds.

               Closing the door at last, Emma latched it securely, making certain the tavern and rooms above were locked properly for the night. She then began to move about the large, open main room, blowing out the candles still left aglow on scattered tabletops and snuffing out the wall sconces as well as she made a final pass around the main space. At last her final chores were complete, one last lit candle in her hand as she stood before the front window, looking down the moonlit street toward the docks for a moment longer. Captain Jones and his crew had yet to be seen in town, and while she could tell the others she didn't care - could even tell herself that in the light of day - here alone in the silent frosty night, Emma couldn't help wondering where he might be, and if he were well.

               "Jones, if you're out there," she murmured, hoping only the snow and ice and the Christmas star would hear her, "Take care or yourself… and be safe 'til we meet again."

               She had crossed the darkened room, placed her hand on the stair rail and was on the first step up to the second floor, when she heard the lightest rapping at the side door into the alley. Pausing there, Emma held her breath, listening uncertainly for the knock again, hardly daring to hope. She only had her candle in hand, the shadows long around her. Were Ruby and her huntsman still outside keeping each other warm despite the winter's chill? Could there be a prowler who had lain in wait until their self-appointed guardian had left for the night, or might it be the visitor she had been promised? The face she had looked for in anticipation every time the inn's door had opened to welcome a new patron that night? She would deny it to anyone, but those dark brows arched up into his windswept hair in challenge or jest, over eyes as blue as his beloved ocean, had been sorely missed; she had hoped to see him home again for Christmas more than she wanted to allow herself.

               She drew nearer to the side entrance, not wishing to give any her presence if the person on the other side bore ill intent, but straining to hear all the same; seeking some sign she was right and to confirm the feeling she had about who awaited on the other side. Gathering her courage, Emma reached for the fireplace poker beside the large stone hearth. Its embers were now dead for the night, but only a short while ago it had been blazing hotly, heating the entire space. She was not some frightened child at any rate; she'd hold her own against any intruder if the opened door led to a nasty surprise.

               Sure enough, the rapping came again, more firmly and with the added hushed entreaty, "Swan? Are you still about, Lass? Emma Swan! It's Captain Jones if you're still about and wish to see your sailor!"

               Her concerns brushed aside at the tones of that voice she could not mistake, Emma let the metal of her makeshift weapon clatter against the stone as it dropped from her fingers. With an exuberant little cry, she was at the door and lifting the latch in a second. The candle in her hand flickered and nearly went out with the stunned breath that left her upon glimpsing his handsome form once again after so long away.

               To his credit, Jones didn't tease; instead looking rather stunned himself as his gaze appeared busy drinking her in as well. Soon, he slipped inside out of the blustery chill and, seeing that her hand holding lighted taper was shaking considerably, he took it from her with care and reached to light the nearest sconce, casting their immediate surroundings with enough warm glow by which to see.

               Finally, she regained enough of her faculties to speak, and Emma stuttered, "It seemed you were not coming, Captain. Ruby mocked me all day for my foul temper and Tink joined in of course to say it was due to my missing and certain pirate and his crew. The busybodies!" she scoffed. But then she reached across the space between hem to catch his hand. "I did worry you might have been arrested, or hurt, or wrecked…or lost…any number of things. Or perhaps I gave you no clear assurance, and instead you had moved on, not to return."

               Killian shook his head just barely, looking troubled that she could even think he would abandon or fail her so easily. "Hardly Lass," he stated fervently, a sort of fiery glow in his eyes she had not seen before. I did say I would return by Yuletide, did I not? A pirate I might be, but I still have my honor.  It would take more than the increased vigilance of the Evil Queen and her forces to keep me away."

               Emma sucked in a worried breath at the cause of his delay. They all hoped to keep far under the notice of the usurper monarch - as cold and cruel as she was darkly attractive, she would end a life as easily as snapping her fingers, and at the slightest provocation, real or imagined. Life had been all the harder and more fraught with danger since Regina had wrested the crown from her kind and gentle stepdaughter Snow White, the rightful heir to the crown. If Killian were wanted by Queen Regina and had snuck back into her borders only to keep his promise, Emma could not bear to consider what would happen if he were discovered.

               Now was the moment of truth, before anymore needless time slipped past. It was time she told him what she had realized while no teasing friends or rowdy onlookers were listening in. "I missed you," she finally managed to croak out around the lump in her throat. "Thank you… Killian…for keeping your word."

               He dipped his head to look into her eyes where she had dropped her gaze to her feet. A strong, calloused hand, warm and gentle in its intent, tipped her chin back up to stare into his searching gaze. "Of course, Swan - Emma. All I could have wished for this holiday was…" he paused, his tongue darting out to wet his lips nervously and a hand coming up to worry the spot behind his ear - gesture she had long ago noticed signified nervousness. But he plunged on determinedly, "was to see you again, to see you and give you this."

               Pulling a small pouch from some inner pocket of his long leather jacket, he held it out to her with sparkling eyes, appearing almost boyish for a moment in his eagerness to see her open his gift, and whispering "Happy Christmas, Emma," as he placed it in her upturned palm.

               Emma's mouth formed a surprised "O", having not expected or hoped for anything more than his safe return. Opening the ties, she tilted the soft material until the item within spilled out in her hand. Holding up a long, golden chain with an exquisite stone of lovely pale green, near to jade in color, swinging from it, she was enchanted by the pendant he had brought her. "Oh, it's gorgeous," she breathed, rather stunned at how nice the piece of jewelry was.  She wore (or even owned, to be honest) little of such finery.

               "It's sea glass," Killian explained, taking the piece back in nimble fingers when she offered it, then turned, lifting her long hair so he could place the chain around her neck and fasten it for her. "Though sailors believe sea glass is good luck, that it keeps the wearer safe, and I would always wish you to be so, I knew it had to be yours because of the color. It reminded me vividly of your eyes…" Though the necklace was secured, his fingers still grazed featherlight along her skin, causing prickles of awareness to course throughout her body, and his own voice had turned decidedly husky.

               At last, Emma turned to face him once more, breaking the trance between them, but needing to thank him, and for him to see how touched she was by his gift, even if her voice was breathless and her words trembled with emotion. "I don't know what to say. You shouldn't have, but I adore it all the same. I'll treasure it, Killian. Truly." And without further hesitation or pausing to think and second guess, Emma threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly to her. "Thank you," she whispered against his chest, breathing in the salty, spicy essence of him and nuzzling against his chest. She realized with a force that almost knocked her off her feet that she never wanted to let go.

               She felt Killian Jones' fingers thread through her hair, stroking gently, reverently as they stood there wrapped up in each other, swaying slightly in the candle glow and the howl of the wind outside. Emma felt they might indeed stay that way forever, and that neither of them would mind at all, until more rapid knocking interrupted their silent moment. The door handle rattled urgently, and she heard a nervous voice she recognized as Killian's first mate's speaking in hurried words. "Cap'n, you told me to summon you when an hour had gone. I've already seen one patrol of black guard go by. If they notice the Jolly in the harbor…"

               "Aye, Smee," he gritted out, stopping the anxious flow of words. "Head back and make ready to sail. I'll follow in a moment."

               He sighed as he turned back to Emma, tracing his thumb over the apple of her cheek and pausing to caress the dimple in her chin as he cradled her face in his hand.

               "You have to go," she acknowledged reluctantly; hating it, but understanding and wanting to see him safe, just as he did her. Her words were wistful, wishing he could stay there with her - or that she could run away with him - but it was too much, too quickly, no matter how she dreaded being parted again so soon.

               "I must, for now," he affirmed, the regret lacing every syllable of his words. "But I hope that now you know I will return."

               She nodded mutely, her mind trying to memorize every detail of his face, his voice, his touch, until she could see him again. "And I will be here waiting for you," she promised with equal intent.

               Bending slightly, Killian brushed his lips against her cheek, his stubble tickling her skin and again making her shiver at the sensation. It was the lightest and most gallant of kisses, and yet it only served to make her burn for more - for him to take her in his arms, for those firm lips to kiss her everywhere, for him to take her to her own apartments, or back to his cabin. It would keep her burning for however long they might be kept apart.

               As he had to leave, heading out again into the dark night, Emma stood at the door watching until the very second his vanished from her sight, no longer able to deny how anxiously she would await his return.

[ilove-cedricdiggory]

REMUS LUPIN AND THE PROFESSOR

Pt. 1 ❤️

She sat her belongings in the compartment she sat in every year on her way to Hogwarts, only many years ago. The very compartment across from the exact one the Maurauders used to sit in. Many times in those train rides had she heard the laughter of the four boys, the excitement of James, the planning of pranks from Sirius, the simple agreement of Peter, and the occasional scalding from Remus.

She hadn't expected herself to ever be back on this train, especially not to begin her first year teaching at the school. While she loved Hogwarts with a passion, she hadn't expected Sprout to ever retire, especially not when Rylee could fill in for her. But when she had seen the ad in the paper requesting a previous Hufflepuff to send in their application for the head of house, she felt like she might at least try.

Attending Hogwarts was always something she remembered fondly, for she had been met with students that she was still friends with today. Some in each houses, which most people now adays didn't seem to understand. From what Rylee could tell, houses didn't really mingle outside of their houses. But, in her life, her best friend was a Slytherin, she had many friends in Ravenclaw, and just a few in Gryffindor, but even then, Gryffindor students really did believe their house was one meant to be written down before any of the others. Not all, but there were quite a few that always believed it. Quite like most purebloods believing they were worth more than any life, especially that of Muggles.

Rylee was on the train a week before the students would be arriving. She didn't have to be, but she figured she needed to arrive early to unpack and relearn the layout of Hogwarts only, this time as a professor. She had already begun trying to remember the names of her old professors, hoping to see a few of them still lurking the hallways.

As the train pulled into the station, Rylee waved her wand and watched as her luggage lifted into the air and followed her without a whisper of a word spoken. As her foot stepped onto the hard flooring of the station, Rylee was met with the familiar face of Hagrid.

"Rylee! There yer are! I was startin' to think you weren comin!" She laughed at Hagrid, shaking her head at the taller man.

"Of course I was coming! If anyone has the choice to come back here, who on earth would pass it up?" She smiled at the grounds keeper, walking with him back to the castle where she greeted the faces of McGonagall and Filtwick. "There you are! I'll show you where your room is now, it really is quite different when you're not a professor." Minerva gently assisted the younger woman to her housing, reassuring her that Filtch would bring her things up soon enough.

~ A week later ~ ~ Rylee's POV ~

I got dressed and walked down to the great hall, sitting down in my respective seat before the students had arrived. I had spoken to Minerva, who has now told me to call her that 11 times sense I've been here, a few times about who all would be coming on train. She told me a bit about most of the returning teachers, but didn't want to go too much into detail about the new DADA teacher, saying she thought it would be best for us both to meet each other here for the first time.

Soon, everyone but the first years had filed into the dining hall, Minerva preparing the first years for what was to come. There were three chairs yet to be filled, Snape, Dumbledore, and the new teacher, but soon the teachers door opened and I heard the steps of who I assumed were the three. I had to fight my instinct to look at the three as soon as they walked in, knowing this meant the first years were coming in soon.

Just as I anticipated, as soon as Dumbledore sat in his chair, the doors opened and the frightened first years followed the older woman into the room and up to the front of the hall. Soon, each student was called and the sorting house placed on their head, calling out their new family. While I cheered for each student, every Hufflepuff student called received a harder clap than the others. It's okay to be a little biased sometimes.

After each student was sorted, Dumbledore stood, silencing the hall. "Welcome, welcome to a new year here at Hogwarts. This year, I am pleased to announce that there are three new teachers this year. First, taking over the Care of Magical Creatures, we have our grounds keeper, Rubeus Hagrid." The hall erupted in cheers, causing Hagrid to stand and blush. "Next, next.." Dumbledore raised his hand to cause the clapping to cease. "We have the new Defence against the dark arts teacher, Remus Lupin." I spit out the water in my mouth, thankful not many realized my reaction to the new teacher.

I glanced down the table, and there he was. Waving ever so slightly at the students was my - well, not mine anymore, but Remus Lupin. I quickly tore my eyes away from his seat, not needing the extra stress of him catching me staring at him like he did so many times when we were students in these very walls.

"And finally, our last teacher. While I regret to inform many of you, our very own Professor Sprout had decided to retire after last year. This meant we were required to, not only, find a new professor for Herbology, but to also find a new Head of House for Hufflepuff. Meaning, I am very pleased to introduce Professor Smith, our new Head of Hufflepuff house. I am wanting her to speak a few words, especially to our Hufflepuff students." My eyes widened at this, not anticipating having to speak in front of all the students in the great hall, but, nonetheless, stood and walked where Dumbledore stood.

I cleared my throat, looking out at the students before me. "Hello, I am Professor Smith, the new Head of Hufflepuff house and teacher of Herbology. What I wish to say, is this. While I know many of students look down on Hufflepuff, considering them to be the lowest house, the scraps of it all. But I stand before each and every one of you, a proud Hufflepuff myself and say this. Hufflepuff's are as smart as Ravenclaws, having scored higher grades than many of them. They are braver than some Gryffindors, fighting for who and what they believe in. They are also more ambitious than some Slytherin, not afraid to fight for their own path. The thing that separates Hufflepuff students from any other house, is that we are fiercely loyal, extremely dedicated to those we consider our friends and family, but above all, we stand beside anyone with unwavering loyalty. With every step you take from this moment forward, I hope each and every one of you remember this. I am beyond excited for each class I have with all of you and wish an amazing year for us all."

I smiled as I walked back to my seat, regrettably looking straight into the eyes of the man I loved for years, seeing the man I nursed back to health many of times, looking back at me. I quickly shook my head, glancing down at my feet, scolding myself for letting him get to me the same way he did so many times when we were children.

After the lovely feast, I watched the students leave the hall, following their prefects. I stood myself, beyond ready to get to my own space to sort out my head, write to my best friend, and attempt to fall into a sleep that wasn't filled of the eyes of the man that hurt me beyond belief when I never expected them to. As I slowly walked back to my room, I heard the quickened footsteps behind me, knowing they could only belong to one other person, I quickly muttered the password to my own secret holder, slipped into the small space, and thanked it for shutting before he had enough time to really see exactly where it was.

I stared at the entrance to my room for a minute or two before accepting that the man hadn't figured out it's hiding space or my password. Honestly, if anyone could figure out my password, it would be him and my best friend, Becca. She had to be written to - right this minute.

Becca,

I am so sorry it's taken me a day to reply to your last owl, you know how much I hate keeping you waiting - not like you could say the same.

I am all settled in my space, and yes, you will be more than welcome here whenever you like, of course you would.

I must tell you though, the new DADA professor I was telling you about, the one Minerva wouldn't tell me about, I learned tonight that he, of all people, is Remus. I don't know what to do Becca. I haven't seen him sense the day we all left, the day he left me. I think he followed me to my housing, but couldn't quite figure out where the door is to come in. But he is here. He sat a few seats away from me at dinner tonight, watched me as I gave a speech, and let his eyes follow me until the rest of dinner was through.

What do I do now? Do you think I should talk to Dumbledore about this? Do you think he would even understand? Oh, who am I kidding, its Dumbledore. Out of all the headmasters we ever heard about, he was the only one who seemed to understand that we were children, young adults now, and even enjoyed his own student drama from time to time. I just, I don't know what can be done. It's not like I can quit - I love this job already. It hasn't even been the first day of classes and I already feel like I am home again. I've missed these walls more than I thought I did, and now, knowing he is here, I miss the memories of these walls too.

Oh please help me. Please tell me what to do. I am not sure how I will survive this year with him without you, much like I hardly did when we were the students.

I miss you incredibly already. Either way, please come visit me soon. I'm sure all our old professors would be more than happy to see you - and you could come spit a few more things at Snape, for old times sake.

Please get back to me soon.

Rylee

I set my note aside, knowing I should wait until morning before I send out Remulis. Out of all things, I had to name my owl after him? It was a gift from him, what felt like ages ago, but there were many times I wish I could change his name. One thing I knew about my owl - he was just as headstrong as the come.

Either way, it would all take time. Time I wasn't sure I had before I saw him again.

As soon as the letter was written for my best friend, I changed into my night gown, moving to my bed to lay down.

Ten minutes....twenty minutes....forty-five minutes.....two hours...

Time ticked away as I was left with herself staring up at her roof, frustration filling my veins. I tried every muggle trick in the book, not wanting to accidentally give myself a strong sleeping potion and sleep through my first classes.

My feet hit the floor as I stood, wrapping my fluffy robe around my shoulders, thankful that it went all the way down to my ankles. I walked to the entrance of my room, exiting it slowly and smiling at the quiet hallways.

I was more than thankful that I could wonder around the hallways at night now, always understanding why it was forbidden to the students and never breaking the rules, even though the boys had that mischievous Maurauders map.

Taking small, quiet steps with my glowing wand, I kept my ears open for any students who broke the rules on the first day of classes. But, instead, I was soon met with the glowing wand of Snape's.

"Rylee, I thought you were a student." I laughed softly at the man in front of me, him sounding just the same he did when we were students. "Nope, trying to keep my eyes out for a few though." I was pleased when he moved to walk by my side, glad he figured out that, although my friendship lied with the boys he was picked on so many times, I tried to keep, not only my nose out of it, but their noses too.

I hated that they picked on Snape, no matter who he was or how he acted, he was still a person. If Snape ever tried to pick on any of my boys, it would be a different story. I wasn't sure the man he was today, as I hadn't felt we were close enough to talk after we both finished school, but I hoped he hadn't turned out to be a negative man.

"I was surprised to hear you were back, although, out of all the Hufflepuff's that graced these walls, you were the only one I could bare to handle." His slight compliment made my lips raise. When we were kids, I knew he had such a thing for Lily, but the few times he had stepped out of line due to his affections, I had stood up for my friend, but also for the dark man he was then. I hated that Snape was so in love with a woman I knew could never return his affections and tried many of times to convince him to move on from the girl.

"Well, I was surprised that I had been accepted. I loved Sprout and have no idea how Dumbledore thinks I could ever live up to her expectations." Snape chuckled at that, causing me to furrow my eyebrows. "Why the chuckle?" I whispered, my pride a little hurt.

"Like I said, Rylee, out of every Hufflepuff I have ever come into contact with, you were the only one I ever truly thought filled every aspect of Hufflepuff. When I think of the house, I feel like you could replace the badger as their representation. If anyone could fill in the shoes of Sprout, even make them better, it'll be you." The words of affirmation coming from Snape might have surprised anyone else, but they didn't me.

The sweet way I heard him talk to Lily so many times had rubbed off on his own conversations with me. I never wanted to make him feel like I thought it was weird he warmed up to me when we were younger so I never pointed it out. Now, it was just a usual thing when it came to me. But, if he knew exactly how much I felt into Hufflepuff, I feel like his look on me might change a bit because of the small rule-breaking I found myself fall into due to the Maurauders.

"I saw how Lupin looked at you during dinner, did he manage to catch up to you after?" Severus speaking about Lupin in a way did surprise me. Although his kindness branched out to me through our own conversations as kids, it never did grow to the boys. This was the nicest I had ever heard him speak Remus' name.

"I think it's about time for me to turn in, Severus." I turned around, didn't say another word, I figured I left him speechless, but the last thing I needed to get back into was the story of Lupin, especially with Snape. He had told me countless of times that the last thing I needed was to find myself in a relationship with Remus, and if he found out he was right, I was sure he would have a few choice words - with me and definitely with Remus himself.

[the-writing-mobster]

AAAAAHHHH I really really want to see a "what-if" of Frisk having a nightmare about drowning and Sans is like "I heard you crying, what's wrong?" and she's like "what the fuck do you think, asshole!?"

You got it boss. One Nightmare with fluff on the side comin right up. Also, some bonus art for desert, on the house. 😉

What If Frisk dreamt of drowning? Fluff ensues.

Frisk stood at the edge of a sandy beach. White sand. Pure white sand. Like ivory meeting slate. The sand was fine between her toes and the water breathed sighs of relief as it lapped against the shoreline.

She took a step into the cold, blue, water that licked against her toes. A second step. The water rose to her ankles… to her knees… to her waist the further she walked.

Should she turn back?

Why would she turn back?

The ocean called to her. It wanted her. Who was she to deny its song?

Her feet could no longer touch the ground, so she began to swim. Long broad strokes of her arms swept past her ears, pulling her further out into the slate, blue water. The languid water. She would not allow herself to look back. For what would happen? She might turn to salt. The beach her own personal Sodom and Gomorrah. It wasn't hers to go back to anymore. The only thing that awaited was the waves.

The current grabbed her ankle and dragged her under. The water was black. The light blotted out by ink. Ink.

She thrashed as she tried to reach the top. But which way was up? Which way was down? She could only feel the water pressing around her.

She tried to hold her breath, and her lungs burst for air. First it burns, then the pressure builds up until the pain grows in one's body and one is forced to exhale. Bubbles blistered about Frisk as she was forced to do exactly that. She flailed, but the current was strong, and the abyss stared back with indifference. The burning grows more adamant and one can feel the pain start to pound in one's chest, one's face, one's eyes and ears. One is forced to take another breath, but then one would swallow nothing but water.

Frisk choked as her lips parted and nostrils flared for oxygen. She kicked, squirmed, flailed, writhed. Anything to free herself; but the ocean was stronger. She began to scream, her voice strangled by water. She swallowed mouthfuls of water, and her lungs were bursting. She needed to choke and breathe…

She was sure she would die. As her eyes fluttered open weakly, vision blackening, she saw a grinning skull growing closer. Its pale face was stark against the inky void. Two cracks scarred the opposite hemisphere's of its face, and it grinned with cruel delight.

Frisk cried out in terror.

A hand tangled into her hair and she gasped as she was yanked out. 

                                                        ⁂

Frisk jolted awake with a scream, her legs tangled in her sheets, sweat hot on her body. Her chest heaved as she gulped down air as if her life depended on it.

Tears filled her eyes and she fell back against her pillow.

She flinched as a knuckle gently rapped her door, brushing her eyes. These nightmares were getting vivid. Why were her nightmares always so real in this Underworld? Was it the magic?

"Yes? Did I wake you up? I'm sorry," she croaked as she raked a hand through her hair. The door creaked open and she met eyes with the familiar red pin-pricks of Sans. She clenched her jaw and glanced away.

"No… no, I was up… are you… ok?" He murmured. She shook her head at the question and hugged her knees to her chest.

"Nightmare… a really… it was so real." Sans grimaced knowingly. He slid into her room and made his way to the edge of the bed. She pulled herself away from him and leaned against the headboard, a frown on her face.

"What was—"

"—Drowning. It's always drowning… I wonder why…" Sans's grimace grew a bit more guilty and he looked away.

"Ah… my fault." She hummed and peeled the sheets away from her. They were growing a bit to suffocating.

"Don't give yourself so much credit," she murmured. He chuckled softly at her jab at him.

"Well… do you want some water?" He asked. She shot him an unamused frown and he grinned.

"Probably not. Maybe some tea?" She shook her head and laid back down.

"Why?" She whispered. He furrowed his brow at her. Did she always have to question him?

"Why what?" He asked as he stood back up. She looked back up at him. Those brown eyes. They made him weak. He'd do anything for her, and all she had to do was bat her eyelashes at him. She turned him into a true idiot.

"I have a feeling you wouldn't treat anyone else this way." He shrugged and came to stand at the window.

"That's not true. Papyru—"

"—Papyrus doesn't count, he's your brother." The two laughed quietly. Wasn't that the truth? He wasn't about to argue with her. 

"I guess you're right." She drew herself out of bed and came to stand beside him. They watched the snowfall together and Frisk felt that familiar spark in her soul. Why was it always at the ungodly hours of the morning or night when their true colors for each other shined through?

"You turn me into such a dumbass," he grunted. She bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

"Oh really? Elaborate," she said as she hesitantly toyed with the hem of his shirt sleeve. He gave her a gentle grin, but kept his eyes trained on the falling drifts of snow.

"I was so convinced that… I wasn't going to let you trick me." She scoffed, her fingers tangling themselves in his shirt. He stilled at her touch.

"I wasn't trying to trick anyone…" she breathed. He tilted his head and finally looked back at her. They stayed like that for a moment before he leaned down and cupped her face. Frisk sighed into him as he kissed her. Her soul flickered with warmth. This was where she belonged, this was where she felt content. Despite all their baggage, despite their history…

He pulled away all too soon and she leaned against his chest, tears shimmering on her cheeks.

                                     "I think that's why it worked."