#examples: I need glasses but I don’t wear them as often as I probably should I do not like ai art or writing etc.

[emily-mooon]

I’m getting close to 100 followers so I figured now would be a good time to do one of those ‘meet the artist’ posts.

[xcaptain-winterx]

Welcome, sinner

officer!Bill x stripper!reader

summary: the night you met

warnings: smut 18+, 69, mention of death, murder (only mentioned), guest appearances, innocent Bill, alcohol, mention of cheating, stripper, men

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc. This is part 2, so you should probably check out part 1 first

Time to sin Masterlist

Part 1

~10 months and 13 days ago~

It often happens that he gets called to this part of town, crimes often happen here, mostly drug deals, street fights, robberies and murder. This part of town is known as red puddle, only people with bad intentions go or live here.

This night the police has been called to one of the most shadiest strip clubs in the entire country, Bloody Ice. It’s a big strip club, four floors. On the main floor is the common strip area where mostly men who are desperate for some female touch come by. The second floor includes a big area with poles and various private rooms, you only get to enter this floor if you have a ring on your finger. To say it in other words, only married men are allowed there. They have their own floor so no one sees them except the other cheating husbands. The third floor is for ‘business’ meetings, mobs for example have their meetings there. Who wouldn’t want to watch pretty woman dance and undress while having a meeting. The top floor is filled with more private rooms and showcases where the girls can dance in. Bill also heard that there’s a sort of secret basement where people can bid on girls and the man with the highest bid gets to have the girl for himself for the rest of the night. He doesn’t know if that’s true though, he just heard it from another Officer and that Officer is not to be trusted.

From afar he could already make out the red lights of the strip club and a big crowd of people in front of it. The crowd moves a bit as the police car comes closer and Bill gets out. He makes his way to the entrance of the club, walking through the big front door inside to see an Officer talking to a big man. The man is tall, about 6’4, he’s got shoulder length hair, a weird beard and he’s wearing big glasses. This man really looks like he jumped straight out off a 70’s porn movie. The man stands with crossed arms in front of the young Officer, it’s a surprise that he didn’t already run away from that man because this man looks fucking scary.

“Officer, who is this?” Bill asks, stepping closer, seeing the relief that washes over the young Officers face.

“Uhm, this is the owner of Bloody Ice, R-“

“Oh yeah, tell it another Offshitter! Can you all just do your job and get finished! I don’t know if you noticed but this is still a work place so let them finally get back to work!” the owner screams at them.

“Sir, we just need to know what happened and we-“ Bill can’t finish his sentence before the man starts talking again.

“I already told this asshole what happened” he goes while lightning up a cigarette “a man grabbed one of my girls and another man didn’t like that so they fought and he shot that bastard. Your colleagues already took care of him”

“Do you know from where he got the gun?”

The man scoffs “You know what happens in this part of town, almost everyone has a gun” blowing out a big cloud of smoke he continues “Is this all, can you go now”

“We need to ask the witnesses what happened and then we can go” to be honest they are far from finish but Bill really wants to get out off here. “Are all witnesses here, Sir?”

Without looking around the room he answers “ My sweetheart is still with a customer in the pleasure room”

“Your sweetheart?” asks Bill. Did his wife work here?

The man looks Bill dead in the eyes “Yes, my sweetheart” not getting a response from Bill he continues “She’s one of the strippers”

“Oh ok, so she’s not your wife?”

“I don’t have a fucking wife” he hisses.

“Ok, well uhm what’s the pleasure room?” Bill questions, only noticing now that the younger Officer is not next to him anymore.

A dark chuckle leaves the owners mouth “It’s a room where the girls do more than just undressing”

“And after the murder she just continued her job and went with the customer into the pleasure room to do more than just undressing?” Bill asks confused, still not getting what he means with ‘more than just undressing’. What else would they do?

“My girls know how to do their job” the owner tries not to laugh at the Officers dumbness “She and the customer are next floor, at the end of the hallway on the right, on the door is a sign which says pleasure room”

“Thanks, Sir”

“Just go ask her your dumb questions and then leave” he says as he walks away in direction of the girls changing room.

Bill just starts making his way upstairs and down the long hallway, he can’t wait for this day to be finally over. Maybe he could order some pizza tonight or perhaps go with some colleagues to a bar.

He starts to hear noises the closer he gets to the end of the hallway, the door now right in front of him. The sound of grunting, moaning, slapping and screaming are heard.

Maybe the guy is hurting you.

Without warning he crashes open the door only to see a naked back of a woman on a big bed.

“WHAT THE FUCK MAN!” only now did he notice the man under her.

Bill finally realizes what’s going on. You’re on top of the customer. You’re having sex. That’s definitely more than just undressing.

“I-I uhm” Bill turns around, his back facing them both “I need to talk to her about the murder” he manages to say, feeling so stupid for not realizing what the owner meant with ‘more than just undressing’.

“Close the door! We are going to put our clothes on!” the man screams.

Wow, people are really nice here

After a few minutes the door opens and closes again but only the man steps out. Before Bill can ask where the woman is he realizes who is in front of him. “Andy Barber?”

Andy let’s out a big breath of air, annoyed that he got caught “You are married and a lawyer. You are cheating on your wife with a stripper and ruining your carrier. Do you know what would happen if someone found out!” he met Andy before because of his job. Barber is known as the best lawyer in town and as a loving husband and father.

“I know, that’s why I’m here.” Andy begins saying “Nobody will ever find out. This place gives you the opportunity to just let yourself go, to give a shit about everyone else.” his eyes turn a shade darker “ Do you know how many of your little police friends visit this place regularly?”

This can’t be true, right? No one would risk their carrier. No one would cheat on their partner with a stripper.

Bill tries to ignore what Barber is saying “Why?”. He just can’t understand why such a man would do that.

“I was not happy with my relationship, the love was just not there anymore. No good morning and good night kisses, no work visits and no daily sex, and if we had sex it was just bad. I just wanted to get out off there but I knew that could having a divorce would risk my image. One night I got drunk and stumbled on this place, god, and now I can’t leave” Andy says, with a look that Bill can’t classify as normal “The woman here are goddesses, especially she” he points at the door behind him.

Andy glances at the door before he steps a bit closer to him and whispers “Once you start you can’t stop. It’s starts to become an addiction. At first it’s twice a month, then once a week and out of nowhere you start to come here almost everyday. You cant leave.” Bill can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Both of their heads snap to the door as it opens. Bill then sees the goddess Andy’s been talking about.

You

You’re wearing blue high heels and a pastel blue lingerie set, thrown over it is a see through blue night gown.

Andy steps away from Bill when you come out off the room.

“Here’s your money, love” reaching inside his jacket Andy pulls out a stack of money “Next time we maybe have our fun without a Officer barging in, maybe then I would also be able to finish” he says with a chuckle, kissing her temple. Bills eyes move down Andys body, seeing the massive bulge in his dress pants.

He quickly moves his gaze away from Andys boner and instead looks at the stack of money Andy gave you. It has to be at least 5000 dollars, and that was just one customer. Ok, Andy is quite prosperous but that’s not the point.

Bills moves his gaze once again when he hears a mix between moans and whimpers leave Andys mouth. Your hand cupping Andys boner while he rocks his hips against your hand. Bill tries not to stare at the scene in front of him, he can’t, it’s unprofessional. He can’t stop imagine though, how your hands would feel around his dick. The sounds that leave Andy’s mouth are definitely not making it better.

Thankfully he doesn’t have to listen to Andys moans for long because he finishes pretty quickly in his pants.

Feeling his pants getting tighter he looks down to see that he also has a small boner. He quickly covers it with hands while Andy is saying goodbye to you. He throws Bill a glare while walking past him. Bill looks back at you when your voice fills his ears.

“Good evening, Officer” you say, looking him up and down. You must admit he’s not that bad looking, you had worse looking man come to this club.

It takes Bill some seconds to answer, your voice sounds like a angle. “Good evening, miss..uhm” he realizes that he doesn’t even know your name.

“Sweetheart”

“What?”

Did you just call him sweetheart or is that your name? God, he kind of hopes you called him that.

“My name, it’s sweetheart. We don’t use our real names here, only the owner of the club knows our real names. He gives us these ‘nicknames’ after the job interview, well if Mr. Pronge thinks we are good enough to work here”

Without thinking Bill asks “What do you have to do in a job interview for a strip club?”. His cheeks start to turn red as he realizes how rude he sounded.

There are two types of jobs, the high paid ones where people get respected and accepted, and the poor paid jobs where people get looked down on and disrespected. These two types are still though, two sides of the same coin. Strippers and sex workers are not on the coin. These jobs belong to a small penny, a small penny that no one cares about. The penny that is in your wallet that you never use and want to get rid off but you still keep it. You hate it but you don’t want to get rid off it because why would you throw something away that’s yours. Why would you throw people away who are yours for a specific time. People laugh at them, talk gossip about them, change the side of the street, make fun of them and more. Acceptance is something they don’t grant them. Yet, they need them. Someone who helps them out, who will do exactly as told, who they can use and then throw away whenever they want.

The other side of the penny belongs to dealers and contract killers, also known as hitman. The overall more masculine side of the coin is the addiction that everyone needs and can’t get rid off. Once you start, you can’t stop. The first joint, first time trying ecstasy, then the first line of coke. People need it to survive, exactly like contract killers. The feeling of power people have when their problems are getting taken care of by someone professional. Only having to move a muscle for transferring money when the problem got taken care of. The small penny shows the desire and power we have and want.

That doesn’t mean though, that the society accepts them.

“Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t want to sound rude” Bill says, giving her a apologetic smile, hoping she’s not offended by it.

“It’s ok” you say “a lot of people think that we are just some sluts who want to show off our bodies and get some dirty old money” of course you know that it’s not the job you parents wanted you to have, but it’s still a job and you earn more money than most people earn in a week.

Bills smile falls when you say that.

“you are not a slut”

God, he only knows you for about 10 minutes, and most of time you were touching Andy’s dick, why does he care?

“Thanks, officer, I appreciate it.” it’s been a while since a policeman told you your not something like that. “Well” you go while biting your lip “and to answer your question, in this club we have to show Mr.Pronge how good we are”

To be honest, at this point Bill doesn’t even want to know what you mean by that. To munched already happened today. He met a 70s pornstar, walked in on a lawyer having a affair and saw the man cume in his pants. That’s enough for one evening. The only reason why he’s still feeling fine is because he just met an angle. Bill doesn’t move until your voice breaks him out of his trance.

“Aren’t you suppose to be asking me questions about the accident?” you ask him.

“Yeah, right”

He spends the next 20 minutes questioning you, all while not taking his eyes of you. After he finished questioning you, you both go downstairs. Bill wants to say something to you but before he gets the chance to, you’re already making your way over to Mr. Pronge. The owner stands up from the bar chair when he sees you coming over, glancing over to Bill before bringing his focus back on you. Bill can’t hear what you both are talking about but he sees how you show him the money, to be more specific, the money Andy gave you for fucking him.

“Officer, we are done here. Are you coming?” the younger officer, who seems to be doing better, asks him.

Bill looks back over to you only to see that you are no longer there, neither is Mr. Pronge. Thoughts of what you may be doing right now flashes through his mind. You could change into your casual outfit right now, count your money, drink a cocktail or fuck someone else.

He tries to get rid of these thoughts, he will not feel jealous or whatever he is feeling.

So, he walks out of the club, sad that he couldn’t say goodbye to you.

Bill is feeling miserable on his way home, he can’t get you out of his head.

What did Andy say? When your not happy you should drink?

Those probably weren’t his exact words but Bill couldn’t care less right now, so instead of driving home he drives to the next gas station. He quickly gets inside and goes over to the beers. Bill scans the shelfs, corona, blue moon, desperado and good old Weihenstephan Weissbier. He needs German beer right now.

Bill grabs a six pack and walks over to pay for it. The cold night air hits him when he walks out off the store, almost telling him to go back inside the warm gas station but he can’t. Neither can he just go in a bar right now, he’s still in his uniform, so he just sits in his car.

This year one officer will get a promotion and the chances are high that he’s the lucky officer who will get it. Bill is known as the good neighborhood officer, people like him. Grandmas make him cookies, little kids come up to him, wanting to sit in the police cars, mothers try to set him up with their daughters, people at the weekly market give him food for free. They just like him. That’s why he can’t understand how his only adversary is so high up on the list. This officer is the exact opposite of him.

Officer Lee Bodecker

Everybody knows that Bodecker did some shady stuff. Stuff like bribery, counterfeit money, speeding tickets and more! Out of some reasons though, people still seem to like him, well most of them come from the shady part of town.

If Bill would do something like that or if he would just be seen doing something what ‘good‘ cops aren’t suppose to do, he wouldn’t get that promotion and he could maybe even get fired. Bodecker would probably like that.

Bill just knows that Lee goes into Bloody Ice, especially after what Andy said. Thinking back, Bodecker is also the officer who told him about the basement of the club. He’s probably going there every night, drinking to get even fatter, while watching younger woman dance and then fuck them.

What if he fucked you?

No no no no no no no. He didn’t fuck you, right? You wouldn’t allow him to fuck you. But he’s a customer. Jealousy over comes him. What if Bodecker really had the chance to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his fingers.

He needs to see you again, he needs to finally touch you, he needs to know if you had something with Bodecker.

That’s how he finds himself back in front of the club. He doesn’t remember the whole drive back here or where he parked his car.

Bill goes inside with the mission to find you. Even though he’s hella drunk, he can still tell that the club is full. Men are screaming and begging to the woman on stage to take their clothes off, girls are sitting on mens laps, getting money stuffed into their bras and panties. The whole room smells like alcohol and sex, which is funny because sex only happens in the privat rooms. He can’t see you though and he definitely can’t see the big bouncer who curiously looks him up and down, while he walks by.

Bill starts to search for you, pushing men out the way, nobody seems to understand he’s from the police.

“Get Out oFf my Way” Bill growls at a man with round glasses that is standing in his way, before pushing him away and continuing his search.

He sees some men going behind the stage. Maybe his girl is also there, so he follows them. You have to be here somewhere.

The men walk down a small hallway, only dimly lighted by some neon signs. The floor is dark cement with small cracks and red spots. The hallway just looks like a nicer version to the gates of hell.

The four men start to walk downstairs. Bill realizes in that moment that Bodecker was right, there is a basement. But what happens down there? He walks a bit faster or as fast as someone can go who is slightly drunk. He needs to know if you are downstairs but he suddenly freezes when a neon sign shines on one of the men. A big man with dark hair and a almost to tight leather jacket.

“BoDecKer?” Bill whispers to himself. Is that Bodecker going downstairs? The hair and body definitely fits.

Before Bill can take another step forward, he gets yanked back, not being able to hold his balance he crashes to the floor.

“Nah man, your fucking cop ass is not going anywhere. You know what happens to people who want to know more than they should? We put a fucking bullet in their head. I’m gonna make an exception for you because we don’t need the whole fucking police station show up cause a cop is missing. NOW GET THE FUCK BACK UP!”

Bill looks back up, trying to focus. He can tell that he’s buff, got a buzz cut and a thick beard. Perhaps he’s wrong though because he sees the man twice. He shouldn’t have drank that much.

“I’m juSt lOoking for mY swEethEart” he tells the buff man, who’s face changes to an angry expression. A growl even leaves his throat. As soon as Bill is back on his feet he gets grabed again and thrown against the wall. Bills ears ring from the sudden action.

The man pulls his fist back ready to throw it when suddenly a soft voice and hand stops him. “Curtis, everything is good”

God, could that be you?

Bill turns his head, trying to focus on the person standing next to the man. He can’t hear what’s going on, his entire focus is on trying to focus again. After a few seconds he finally sees you. “Hey, sweetheart” he says with a grin on his face, leaning against the wall.

“You sure about that, he’s drunk as fuck and-“ the man starts only to be cut off by your soft hand being put on his chest.

“Don’t worry, I met him before, I’m just gonna take care of him until he’s feeling better” you answer, grabbing Bills arm, resulting in him almost leaning his whole weight on you.

There’s a minute of silence, except the soft giggling and soft hi’s of Bill, before Curtis speaks up. “Ok, but the second he’s sober again you get him out off here. I don’t want the boss to get mad again” he says in a soft but stern tone.

“Yes, Everett. Now go and throw some other drunk asses out” jokingly command with a smile, winking at him. You put Bills arm around your shoulder, trying to ignore the way he puts his face in your hair, smelling you and the intense smell of alcohol. You carefully lead him through the main club part and in direction of the stairs. With the goal of bringing him into the room where he saw you for the first time.

“I’ve bEen sEarchIng fOr yOu all niGht, swEethearT” Bill stated with a proud smile on his face, holding on you. You try your best to hold him upright as you both go up the stairs, almost letting him accidentally fall down three times. Bill doesn’t care though, the only thing that matters right now is you being close to him and your beautiful hair. It smells like vanilla and strawberries with a touch of coconut. He already knows that it would be his new favorite smell, if there also wouldn’t be a hint of cigarettes in it.

“Really?” you question when you finally made it upstairs “why did you miss me that much?”

Bill lets out a little adorable laugh as you both go down the familiar hallway, getting closer and closer to the door. “Oh, you don’t even know”

You let him in first, when you finally reach the door before following him inside and locking the door. Rushing back over to Bill as you see him almost tripping again. You make him sit down on the couch, making sure that he stays upright and then sitting down yourself, turning to look at him only to see that he’s already looking at you.

“Did you fuck Lee Bodecker?”

That came unexpected.

“Bill” you say, while putting your hand on his cheek, softly tracing his cheekbone “why do you want to know”. His eyes move from you, he can’t look you in the eyes. Bill takes in all the details of the room, the only light that comes are from the lamps because no windows are there. “Look at me” you say, turning his head to look at you “tell me why”

Bill gulps, feeling out of nowhere totally sober “I-I uh” how is he suppose to explain that he is jealous. “Well you know I uhm- hate- don’t like Bodecker” he says, almost wanting to slap himself by how fake that sounds. Lying never been one of his strengths.

Your face shows disappointment and Bill nearly cries, he doesn’t want you to be disappointed at him. He wants to be the reason you smile. “How about this, officer, you tell me, while I make you feel good” you whisper, trailing one hand down his uniform. Bills breath hitches, is it really happening. Is he really finally going to feel you?

You unbuckle his belt

Fuck. He’s so scared but also excited. He knows your good, he knows. You got Andy to cheat on his wife.

You slowly open his zipper and get on your knees

No, he can’t. If someone finds out he’s going to get fired, that also means Bodecker will win.

You pull his pants and underwear down.

This is wrong, this is so wrong. Nobody will forget that if-

His thoughts get cut off as you lick a strip down his dick. “Fuck” Eyes roll back into his head when you lick another strip. A smirk grows on your lips, seeing his expression. Bill is in heaven, well, as far as you can be in heaven while sinning.

“I wanted you to tell me why you want to know, baby” you say, giving his dick some soft strokes.

“OK. I will tell you-just p-please don’t stop” knowing he’s gonna embarrass himself. He sucks in some breath of air “I don’t want him to touch you because-ugh fuck h-he ca-FUCK“ you take him in your mouth, making Bill stop his sentence and instead letting out soft pleases. He knows he won’t last long.

“I want to b-be” he stop again when you altered to bob your head. He’s definitely not gonna last.

Bill looks down at you and immediately regrets it. Innocent eyes look back at him and your soft red lips wrapped around his dick. Your mouth is wet and warm, taking him down your throat. It’s like your mouth is made for him. “I don’t want h-him beca-“ he can’t do it.

The moment your hand grabs his balls he explodes “FUCK! I DONT WANT HIM TO TOUCH YOU BECAUSE I WANT YOU” he screams as he cums. His cheeks turn red, embarrassed by the confession.

You swallow before before standing back up and looking him in the eyes “It’s ok”. Before smashing your lips against his. Bill moans as you start to play with his tongue, completely taking control. You taste delicious, you taste exactly how you smell. This time though with a hint of his own cum.

Bill whines as you break the kiss, trying to follow your lips. The alcohol definitely making him clingier.

The sound of your laughter makes his stomach feel like it’s filled with butterflies. “Don’t worry, I think I like you too” you whisper softly in his ear

“Welcome, sinner”

Next thing you know, he throws up over the armrest.

[thepradapariah]

Your Rising Sign ✨. The Male Gaze 👀. & Female Character Movie/TV Tropes 📺.

Are you the manic pixie dream girl or the femme fatale?!

Astro Observations 🪐

Using Movies & TV shows, I’ll be talking about observations I’ve made about rising signs! This is just my opinion! You are more than welcome to share your thoughts in the comment section!

(If you know your sidereal Rising Sign Naksaktra EVEN BETTER!)

Disclaimer:

BARE WITH ME HERE!!! This post is written in a VERY generalized way. I am not trying to be exclusionary at all! I want this to be a fun post about movies & astrology. Please be creative with your pronouns if needed! This post is for anyone who wants to read it, no matter your gender or preference, but it will be written in traditional cis-gender fashion, BUT!!!!! I have tried to incorporate all female identifying communities within the examples! I hope there is something for everyone :)

Before we begin:

Definitions:

✨What is the Male Gaze?

“In feminist theory, the male gaze is the act of depicting women and the world, in the visual arts and in literature, from a masculine, heterosexual perspective that presents and represents women as sexual objects for the pleasure of the heterosexual male viewer. In the visual and aesthetic presentations of narrative cinema, the male gaze has three perspectives: (i) that of the man behind the camera, (ii) that of the male characters within the film's cinematic representations; and (iii) that of the spectator gazing at the image.” — Wikipedia

✨What is a Character trope?

“A trope is an idea, pattern or motif that appears often enough in a particular art form that consumers of that art form begin to form particular associations with that idea.” - The Novel Factory

Introduction:

Men tend to be VERY simple creatures. Yes, they may present themselves as the broody artist w a checkered past or a sci-fi-nerdy-glasses-wearing-type fellow who LOVES Star Wars & Comic-Con. But believe it not, both these men have something in common…Their simplicity. Most men see life in black & white. They tend to take things at face value & rarely feel the need to dig deeper into something unless they are called to. This is not to over generalize (or perhaps that’s exactly what this is) but to draw attention to the straight forward attitude men usually have towards life. (I blame this on their primal hunter/gathering nature, but that’s another topic for another day). Men tend to prefer life & communication to be clear & concise, whereas woman tend to be far more “colorful” in our approach. We don’t spare any details when talking w our girlfriends about the latest gossip as if it’s our life’s duty, where men can sit in silence, playing video games & be perfectly content. In fact, I learned in sociology, that men can actually have ZERO brain activity happening at times (besides the automatic stuff, like breathing lol). Meaning— men can actually sit & think about nothing. Women, not so much, we are constantly stimulated, thinking & planning ahead. Because of this cosmically cerebral mis-match, the way men & woman tend to view each other can be a point of contention. Woman tend to over complicate men & men tend to over simplify woman. Thus giving us the ongoing battle of real complex female characters VS. the over simplified version of them through the Male Gaze. Do men think woman just sit around playing in make-up & fashion, bursting out into random tears & having pillow fights all day? If you ask Hollywood— probably. In this post, we will be specifically looking at how men over simplify woman using Movie/TV tropes & comparing them to the display of our rising sign, &/or if you know it, your rising Nakshatra.

You should know, that before I got into tarot & astrology, I graduated from the film school at New York University. So I am WELL AWARE of the film/tv writing process & thought this would be a cool way to combine my education of films & my love for astrology to teach & critique how woman tend to be represented in Cinema & Television— and in return, real life. (Art meets Life, amiright?)

There has been a discourse in the film & tv world about how woman are represented through the male gaze. I’m sure you’ve heard of the “manic pixie dream girl” trope over saturating the market right now. (Don’t worry, we will get into this later). Woman feel as if these are shallow representations of the feminine experience. While I agree with this statement, usually we don’t see very fleshed out, complex & interesting woman from male writers. (*cough cough* Euphoria Season 2.) I’m arguing here that until we form deep & intimate connections with men, they tend to see us, woman, as these movie tropes, IRL (in real life). If you don’t understand what I’m saying, hang in there w me.

Because men tend to be simple & take things at face value, they can miss out on the nuances of the woman they are with. How many times have we seen in movies a wife gets a haircut & the husband doesn’t notice? See, no eye for detail, or subtlety. Those small details that make us unique from other woman tends to go over their heads from time to time. And in a day in age where woman are generalized more on a mass scale through social media, it’s easy for men to get carried away thinking woman are all the same or simply, just not that complicated. This isn’t a bad thing, per say, this is just the default until we are able to build a lasting, deep connection between masculine & feminine energy.

In this post, we are going to be breaking down this “conundrum” by RISING SIGNS/1H/Nakshatras. Why? Because the rising sign is how you are seen in the world. The first house rules the body, & what people project on to you as well as what you project onto other people. (The beauty of the 1H/7H axis…more about this later) As a sidereal astrology girly, I think the first house/Rising Sign Nakshatra rules the personality more so than the sun & moon sign. After all, it is called “person”-ality, & the 1H is the house of person, whereas the 7H is the house of partner.

✨Why Does this Matter?

Well first off, it matters how much you want it to matter. This post is for inspiring self expression. By seeing how you effortlessly come across through the male gaze, you may be able to craft your own unique persona or perfect one of these tropes. I am not writing this post because you have to see yourself the way men see you or over simplify yourself while getting to know someone, I’m writing this to give you some indication of HOW men see you so you can put on a SHOW! I’m hoping this gives you the encouragement to take your narrative into your own hands & present your femininity in a way that’s true & authentic to you. I am an absolute FAN of these female tropes. Movies & tv shows have helped me curate the kind of woman I want to come across as. Nothing like seeing a great character on TV that you want to emulate. We all have the ability to play pretend. Look at using the male gaze as a game of dress-up. You can ALWAYS play the part in the ever going Hollywood Film— Your Life.

✨What is the First House?

The first house is the house of first impressions— the cover of the book men are judging.

Because your first house is home to your rising sign, to put it simply, the first house is how you come off to others at first glance. Even though I’m sure you’re a beautiful, complex & intriguing creature, for the sake of this article, we are looking at the first house through a “shallow” perspective. You may feel as if these descriptions don’t fit you at all, in fact, you may feel like this is the total opposite of who you actually are! (Blame the contradiction of 1H/7H axis for this one) However it’s not about how you feel, it’s about how you come across…

Read this article as if you are your crush meeting you for the first time. (Read that again, very meta, I know). The Male Gaze in movies/tv has been argued to be lazy & uninspired writing. I personally think that’s just the male gaze in general. I kid, I kid. Lol. But seriously…they are very simple minded, so we can use this to our advantage to give some of the best performances of our lives!

***If you are reading for your Sidereal Vedic Rising (which is HIGHLY suggest), please look up the degree, so you can read for the specific Nakshatra)

(If you are a man reading this, I don’t mean to drag you. We all know the childhood fact, Men are from Mars & Woman are from Venus. Lol.)

Through the Male Gaze, we will be breaking down how you come off through your rising sign & placements as Classic Movie & TV Character Tropes.

How to Read:

✨IF YOU KNOW YOUR SIDEREAL VEDIC RISING NAKSHATRA: Read that first! That will be the most specific to the trope. (I didn’t double dip, each nakshatra is only used ONCE)

______________

✨If you DON’T know your Sidereal Rising Nakshatra & your reading as a Western/Tropical Girlie———>

✨You can read for the sign in your first house (your rising sign) &/or planets placed in your FIRST OR SEVENTH HOUSE!

✨7H placements cast a direct aspect on your 1H, so if your rising sign doesn’t resonate, check your 7H placements! They have a major influence as well!

✨If you have multiple planets in your 1H &/or 7H, the planet with the LOWEST degree is the dominant planet. Ex: If you have Saturn at 26 degrees and Venus at 2 degrees, you would read the Venus tropes.

✨Unlike men, I’m giving you some flexibility (Lol) Your placements may overlap. For example, if you’re a Pisces Rising— read the blurbs for Manic Pixie Dream Girl & Girl Next Door. One description will probably fit better than the others, but you got options! If you know your sidereal chart for your rising Nakshatra, you’ll get

***There is NO direct correlation between the signs & Naks picked, this is a matter of opinion, so I put what I felt worked!***

Please please please keep in mind, movies & tv characters are larger than life, so please have fun with this post!!! This is over the top!! If you can imagine that you were an old Hollywood glamour queen or a modern cinema starlit, this would be your starring role!!!

⚠️ I do not want to offend ANYONE by using traditional gender pronouns. I am a cis-gender heterosexual female, so I am writing from the perspective I know best. I am NOT trying to say this is the only perspective that matters. I have included cis-woman, trans women & lesbians as examples in this post. Please feel free to share any insights you have, no matter the gender, non-gender or perspective! I’m truly open & supportive. This is not an exclusionary post.

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!!!! I am using Movies & Television shows as examples, so be prepared!

⚠️ Of course, special shout-out to my little sister! Without her, none of this would be possible!!

On with the Show! 🌹

💋 Manic Pixie Dream Girl

Nakshatras: Ardra, Punarvasu, Swati, Vishika, Mula

Zodiac: Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces (All Mutable Rising Signs) & Aquarius

Planets: Neptune, Mercury, Jupiter (1st or 7th House, lowest degree)

Tarot Card: Princess of Cups (Earth & Water)

✨Definition

“[The Manic Pixie Dream Girl] exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures… [The MPDG] seems to exist only to provide spiritual or mystical help to the protagonist. The MPDG has no discernible inner life. Instead, her central purpose is to provide the protagonist with important life lessons. “

-Wikipedia (Manic Pixie Dream Girl was coined by Nathan Rabin)

✨The Manic Pixie Dream Girl is arguably THEE female movie trope of the last 40 years in pop culture. As movies moved away from the Bombshell aesthetic of the 1950’s, most notably, Marilyn Monroe; Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s introduced a new kind of woman. (Even her last name, go-lighly is a play on her attitude towards the world) A woman who throws caution to the wind & isn’t afraid to take risk. In fact, this woman LIVES to take risk! She flutters in & flutters out of the Male gaze, usually chasing some wild dream of being a fashion designer, writer, actress ect, OR is a notch above (or under, depending on how you look at it) an aimless sexy hobo. Regardless of her career ambitions, she’s always as creative as she is elusive— yet somehow, is always able to drop into the male’s life right in the knick of time, whisking the male away on some fever-dream like adventures. Encountering the Manic Pixie Dream Girl almost ALWAYS accompanies a spiritual Awakening for our male protagonist. Upon meeting this woman, usually in some weird, “only happens once in a life-time” way, his world gets thrown into a chaotic flurry. Everything he thought he knew he now knows he never knew anything about it at all. He questions life, he questions reason, he question society, capitalism, the “American Dream”, etc. This is BEST demonstrated by Marla (Helena Bonham Carter) in Fight Club, directed by David Fincher. (If you haven’t seen this movie, you MUST (18+), Brad Pitt is at PEAK sexiness…s/o to the Female Gaze lol) Fight Club is a wicked tale of a man fighting himself, society & his own psyche after meeting a woman who mirrored him so closely, it triggered a masculinity awakening. This is the function of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl. She is so free, so unbound, so fluid, & feminine, she helps to bring to life the masculine side of a man by reflecting his own inner chaos back to him.

As a Ardra, Punarvasu, Swati, Vishika, Mula Rising or Mutable Rising Sign: Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, or Pisces, this could be one of the ways you appear through the male gaze. Because your temperament & view of life can be so changeable, you can come across as a free-spirit, a loss soul, or a wonderer. Perhaps you are, & perhaps you aren’t, but as quickly as you change a hairstyle, you change your goals in life. The male feels as if he needs to tame you, give you structure, security or direction OR he feels like he wants to join you! Break away from the daily grind of life, break societies expectations of him & rendezvous w you, eating cereal, painting & watching cartoons all day. You can represent a child-like wonder and be the embodiment of the “wild-side” of life! As the mutable rising signs of the Zodiac, you tend to be moody & unpredictable. Through the Male Gaze, men may find it hard to connect with you because you always seem “elsewhere”. You always seem a little dazed, perhaps a little confused, but certainly “pixie” like in your approach to life. To the right male, you are fascinating, like a Jackson Pollock painting (the splatter paint dude) in the works— each stroke improvised, never knowing where the paint is going to land, but intrigued more by your process than the final product.

✨Music:

Female Gaze: Like a Bird- Nelly Furtado

Male Gaze: Sex And Candy- Marcy Playground

✨Examples

Holly Golightly- Breakfast at Tiffany’s

Jules- Euphoria

Summer- 500 Days of summer

Robyn Brooks- High Fidelity

Helena- Fight Club

Cat- Victorious

Issa- Insecure

Raven- That’s So Raven

Bubbles- Powerpuff Girls

Emily- Emily in Paris

Sally Bowles- Cabaret

💋Ice Queen

Nakshatras: Jyestha, Dhanishta, Uttara Bhadrapada

Zodiacs: Aquarius, Libra, Cancer, Scorpio

Planets: Saturn, Uranus, Moon, Venus

Tarot Card: Queen of Swords (Water & Air)

✨Defintion:

“…Cool, reserved, and giving nothing away. She may want love as ardently as anyone, but she masks her soft heart behind a wall of ice. It is up to someone else, typically her Love Interest, to soften her cold demeanor and win her love.

The Ice Queen is considered dangerous to love because she will not (or cannot) love back. She's not much for friendship either, preferring to be alone.” tvtropes .org

✨The Ice Queen is cold & unforgiving. She IS the resting bitch face personified, unimpressed & unfazed by those around her. Seemingly aloof, the male in the story is always trying to breakthrough her tough and unbothered exterior. Her coldness posses a real challenge to anyone who is interested in her romantically. She’s just a bitch. And a bad one at that! The Ice Queen is stern in her appearance & her approach to life. Usually divorced, or widowed, but doesn’t have to be, she walks as if she carries the weight on the world of her shoulder. She’s been abandoned by happiness in life, but she’s so regal, no one knows how deep her scars cut. She can resemble the Boss Bitch/Diva trope, because she normally holds a lot of power, but she carries a certain detachedness that is unique to this trope. She is NOTHING nice. The Ice Queen is hard to please & has no issues letting people know she’s unsatisfied. The Male wants to “warm her up”, breakthrough her cold exterior & get to know why she is so damn mean! In some cases he succeeds, in others he realized she’s just a mean & shallow as he originally thought. Elvira Hancock in Scarface is the prototype for this feminine character trope. Not only is her nose typically buried nose deep in snow (if you get it, you get it), she’s. a. straight. cold-hearted. biotch. She’s unbelievably gorgeous & unapproachable, & this is exactly what draws the male protagonist in to her. But even after the male “wins her over”, she was never satisfied. An Ice Queen to her CORE, she was never one to be defrosted. Defamed? Maybe…Defrosted…never.

It’s worth noting that the Ice Queen is usually HIGHLY fashionable. Not the cheap stuff either— the Ice Queen is a Queen none the less. She’s not the T-shirt & jeans girl next door, or the purple hairdo manic pixie…she’s class & sophistication. First rule, you gotta be hot to be so cold.

If you are a Jyestha, Dhanishta, Uttara Bhadrapada Rising or an Aquarius, Libra or Cancer Rising, or have Saturn, Uranus, the Moon, or Venus aspecting your first house, you may find that you come across as the Ice Queen through the male gaze. You carry a certain reserved & detached aura upon first meeting someone. Rarely would you put all your cards on the table. There is also a certain maturity that you carry with you when you walk into a room. Men will assume “oh, this girl, she’s been through some stuff”. You may find that you are somewhat withdrawn in social situations, although people may be very drawn to you. You don’t necessarily care about being liked, but you certainly care about being respected. You come off as if you don’t tolerate any kind of messiness. Men may think you play hard to get or that you just think you’re better than the average. Whatever! You don’t care what they think. You’re too busy reading or being an intellectual (whatever that means lol…this is the male gaze we are talking about). Again, to the right egotistical man who believes he can “warm you up”, you are a welcomed and ongoing challenge. The Ice Queen is the female trope of male dissatisfaction. When a Male encounters the Ice Queen in cinema, she tend to represent a part of the male that will NEVER be pleased, content or accepted. Normally the man after this cold woman’s stone-cold heart is trying to prove his worth to the world around him, & the Ice Queen serves as the perfect trophy. If he can impress her/have her, he can impress anyone & have the World! The Ice Queen is the ultimate prize for the male protagonist w ego/self-esteem issues. Nothing humbles a man quite like a cold-hearted bitch. You may find in your dating life, Male’s feel the need to impress you for no good reason..or maybe you enjoy watching men walk on their heads for a date w you! Either way, as the Ice Queen female trope you carry a certain air about you that commands attention & respect. You carry authority over yourself & those around you. The male gaze says although your intimidating, your worth a try to shut down all the haters, even if you’re hater number 1!

✨Music:

Female Gaze: Needed Me- Rihanna

Male Gaze: Roses- OutKast, Cooler than Me- Mike Posner

✨Examples

Elvira Hancock-Scarface

Camille- The Sapranos

Lady Mae Greenleaf- Greenleaf

Elsa- Frozen

Jade- Victorious

Elekta Evangelista- Pose

Claire- House of Cards

Molly- Insecure

Lucille- Arrested Development

Betty Draper- Mad Men

Mother Shannon, House of Balenciaga- Legendary

Cersei Lannister- Game of Thrones

Dominique La Rue- Harlem Nights

Gru’s Mom- Despicable Me

💋Femme Fatale

Nakshatras: Ashwini, Bharani, Ashlesha, Purva Bhadrapada, Shatabisha

Zodiacs: Aries, Scorpio, Cancer

Planets: Mars, Pluto

Tarot Card: Queen of Wands (Fire & Water)

✨Definition

“A femme fatale,sometimes called a maneater or vamp, is a stock character of a mysterious, beautiful, and seductive woman whose charms ensnare her lovers, often leading them into compromising, deadly traps. She is an archetype of literature and art. Her ability to enchant, entice and hypnotize her victim with a spell was in the earliest stories seen as verging on supernatural; hence, the femme fatale today is still often described as having a power akin to an enchantress, seductress, witch, having power over men. Femmes fatales are typically villainous, or at least morally ambiguous, and always associated with a sense of mystification, and unease.”

-Wikipedia

✨The Femme Fatale is arguably the most ICONIC of the female movie tropes. A popular trope of Film Noir “movement” in the late 1940s, early 1950s, the Femme Fatale is a sexual seductress with a naughty side. Enchanting as she is dangerous, the male gaze ogles her, even though it may cost him his life— or at least his job & social standing. Medusa is one of the best representations of this trope. If a man locks eyes w her, he’s as good as dead— yet, time & time again, men tried to defeat her, only to meet a tragic end. As time progressed, the story of the woman who turns men to stone (definitely a sexual innuendo if you ask me) found new life in television & film. The Femme Fatale is a beautiful disaster just waiting to happen. She’s wild, like the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, but she has a certain knack for danger and crime. She lures the male in & traps him like a spider in her web. The male is usually a little weary of the woman, but is overcome w her grace & charm, or he’s truly an unsuspecting victim who gets completely taken advantage of an entangled in whatever mess she’s made for herself. One way or the other, the male often ends up in a position of life & death after lusting after this dark & intriguing beauty. The film, Carmen Jones, starring Dorthy Dandridge, is a classic tale of a woman w loose morals who ends up (spoiler alert) dead. Unlike most of the other female tropes, the femme fatale almost always suffers consequences for her actions. She either ends up in jail, or dead, or kills her lover, or he ends up in jail, or her lover ends up dead. Tragic, I know. Again, think of Medusa…she killed everything she laid her eye on, & then ultimately had to be killed. (RIP Medusa, you were a baddie). No one gets out scotch free when dealing w this character. The femme fatale is mysterious, almost like a mythical creature or an enchantress, & the male is instantly drawn into her, whether they exchange words in a bar, or she simply flicks her cigarette & he rushes to relight it. One thing is for sure, she lives by her own rules & is bound by nothing…not the law or death itself. She’s usually a criminal minded free-spirit, manipulating her way through life to survive.

If you are an Ashwini, Bharani, Ashlesha, Purva Bhadrapada Rising Or an Aries, Scorpio, or Cancer Rising, or you have Pluto or Mars aspecting your 1H, you may come off as the femme fatale through the male gaze. Your dark, broody & secretive nature is fascinating to them, and they want to join you on a passionate journey through time & space or save you from whatever sticky situation you may have put yourself in. They want to play detective & you are the perfect case to crack. When the femme fatale enters the male’s life, she instantly posses a threat to his usually naive understanding of the world. She’s not your typical housewife— far from it. She challenges the traditional social construct of beauty & submission. Normally from a troubled/difficult past past, the femme fatale will only submit to law & death, she’s been forced to learn the ugly sides of life & uses them to her advantage. You may find that male’s tend to want to dominate you or control your direction in life in relationships, but you are REPULSED by this notion. This trope teaches men (and woman sadly), that freedom comes w a cost. Hopefully it’s not your life, but if it is, you sure make a sexy corpse!

✨Music:

Female Gaze: Wild side- Normani

Male Gaze: Dirty Diana -Michael Jackson

✨Examples

Filomena (Sophia Lauren)- Marriage Italian Style

Cat Woman- Batman

Carmen- Carmen Jones

Dr. Frank-N-Furter (played by the wonderful Lavern Cox)- The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Jennifer- Jennifer’s Body

Gilda (Rita Hayworth)- Gilda

Amy Dunne- Gone Girl

Laura Biel- 365 Days

Alex Vause- Orange Is the New Black

💋Queen Bee/Mean Girl

Nakshatras: Krittika, Purva Phalguni, Chitra, Purva Ashadha

Zodiacs: Libra, Capricorn, Aries, Leo, Taurus & Gemini

Planets: Venus, Mars, Sun, Mercury

Tarot Card: Princess of Swords (Earth & Fire)

“The Mean Girl trope had us all believe that the dark side to womanhood is catty, conniving competitiveness.”

The swaddle.com

“Mean girls are often overly concerned with appearance. They may place a high priority on their clothing, their make-up, and even their weight. Likewise, they may zero in on these things in others, pointing out everything from acne and weight gain to clothing choices and hairstyles.”

-theteenmagazine.com

✨Somewhere between The Ice Queen and The Diva, there lies a sweet sour sweet CLASSIC female trope that always leaves the girls GAGGING in disbelief, like “did she just say that?!!” The Queen Bee/Mean Girl trope has her fair share of representation in film & TV, particularly in teen dramas, but she is NOT limited to high school. The Queen Bee is in charge, she knows what she wants, she knows how she likes it & she has ZERO problem letting her loyal subject know. Sometimes, she is portrayed w a deep deep deep DEEP down heart of hold, but most of the time, she’s just a straight biotch from beginning to end. You DON’T want to cross her, or you just might end-up on her ever growing hit-list. If there is one thing Ms. Mean Girl can do..it’s hold a grudge. As stated above, the Queen Bee/Mean girl trope serves the stereotype of the cattiness & competitiveness of femininity. And it is a fact that in the wild, the female animals are usually far more aggressive than their male counterparts. (Think Lion, or a Mama Bear). Boys may have their sports, but lady’s have their looks & they will secure that W come hell or high water all the way to Prom Queen.

If you are a Krittika, Purva Phalguni, Chitra, Purva Ashadha Rising or Libra, Taurus, Aries, Leo or Gemini Rising, OR if you have Venus, Mars or the Sun aspecting your 1H/7H, you may come off as the typical Mean Girl Trope through the Male Gaze. You’re aloof, yet decisive about the things you truly care about— like— “Wednesdays, we wear pink”. You keep people on the tip of their toes with witty banter & effortless conversation. If they don’t know the latest trends, the current celebrity gossip or who dumped whom…well, you’re just not interested in what they have to say, so why bother? You can play the villain easily & have no problem being unliked as long as you are respected. You are a social butterfly, a socialite, if you will. You know how to make the streets talk with admiration & envy. People may be afraid that they can’t meet your standards, but good, they probably can’t. NO UGLY FRIENDS is the motto— people may think you actually hold try-outs for who is allowed to sit with you at the table. Through it all, you know how to take control & lead— this energy oozes from you as people seem to just step aside as you sashay down the halls. Always up on the latest fashion, you always come w your A-game and your enemies will NEVER catch you slipping. There is a beautiful confidence that you exude because you know you are the one and only. People may be extremely intimidated by you, but the real ones will bow at your feet.

The shadow side of this trope is the shadiness. Queen Bees/Mean girls are known for being just that—MEAN. People may assume that you are quite backstabby & mischievous. YOU, of all the movie tropes, don’t mind playing

d-i-r-t-y! People perceive you as never wanting to let go of that crown & you’ll do whatever it takes to keep the social order in tact. Think “Status-Quo” High School Musical w Sharpay, the ULTIMATE representation of this trope, screaming from the top of the cafeteria! (THIS IS NOT WHAT SHE WANTS! THIS IS NOT WHAT SHE PLANNED!!!!!) She didn’t care who she had to cut, scheme, lie, trick, plot & sabotage to make SURE Ms. Gabriella did not get the spotlight w her man, Troy. Think of the lengths you’ll go to to get what you want. You come off as spicy, cunt-y (in the best way), & beautiful. You are a glamour girl & never afraid to throw some shade here & there, making you the ultimate reigning Queen Bee!

✨Music

Female Gaze: Feeling Myself- Nicki Minaj

Male Gaze: Mad at myself- Issues

✨Examples

Maddie- Euphoria

Regina George- Mean Girls

CoCo- Dear White People

Lulu- Pose

Toni- Girlfriends

Emma Roberts in Coven & Scream Queens

Blair- Gossip Girl

Cheryl Blossom- Riverdale

Santana- Glee (Rest in Peace)

Buttercup- Powerpuff Girls

Alison DiLaurentis- Pretty Little Liars

Sharpay- High School Musical

The Heathers

Penelope- My Dog (LOVE HER, but she’s such a Bitch—a bad one though lol)

💋Ingenue/Damsel in Distress

Nakshatras: Mrigashirsa, Rohini, Hasta, Revati

Zodiacs: Cancer, Capricorn, Libra, Aries (All Cardinal Rising Signs) & Pisces, Taurus

Planets: Moon, Venus, Saturn

Tarot Card: Queen of Cups (Water) Libra, Aries

“The ingénue usually has the fawn-eyed innocence of a child but subtle sexual appeal as well.”

“The damsel in distress is a recurring narrative device (or trope) in which one or more men must rescue a woman who has either been kidnapped or placed in general peril. Kinship, love, or lust (or a combination of those) gives the male protagonist the motivation or compulsion to initiate the narrative. The female character herself may be competent, but still finds herself in this type of situation.”

Wikipedia

✨The Ingenue/Damsel in Distress is one of the most recognizable female movie tropes to date. From the tales of The Greeks, to King-Kong, to Broomhilda from Djengo— there is always some damsel…somewhere…that is…in fact…in…distress. The Ingenue is a naive babe, just learning the ins & outs of life. She’s pretty, she’s unassuming & adorably doe-eyed, full of wonder for the life ahead of her— just waiting for a strong man to show her the way! The ingenue is common, but in the best way. She’s not an ice-cold bitch like the Ice Queen or the Queen Bee, but she sits more in her femininity that the Tomboy or the Diva. She’s divine & subtle and a man is always lurking around the corner, waiting to whisk her away from all the evils in the world. If this sounds like a Disney Princess, it’s because it is. Most Disney Princesses would fit into the Ingenue/Damsel in Distress character trope, but just like most of the Princesses, no matter how young & impressionable, the Ingenue is usually the one who makes a way for herself in the end.

If you are a Mrigashirsa, Rohini, Hasta, Revati Rising or a Cardinal rising (Aries, Cancer, Libra Capricorn) or Pisces, the male gaze may perceive you as the Ingenue/Damsel in Distress trope. Your beauty & grace exceed you, & your youth is ever-present. When the male sees you, they just want to protect you & hold you dear. You spark masculinity in those who are attracted to you because you come across so soft & gentle. But don’t get it twisted, you can be a little spicy! You certainly have a little sass to you, but you try not to wear it on your sleeve. You are a true darling to those who are deserving. You serve ultimate demure womanliness & you seem to glide through any room you’re in. Although your impulsiveness & naiveté may land you in some sticky situations, there’s always a lovely leading man just beyond the pines to lead you out of the darkness and into their arms (Awwwwwwwwwww). You may be the type to need help opening the pickle jar, or clumsily fall into some big strong arms— you don’t mind being on the receiving end of affection & people just swoon over you. Unlike the Door Next Door, there can still be an “unapproachability” factor to you. You’re not the girl from down the street, you’re the new girl in town; a little lost, a little curious, but always cute! You may find that men tend to underestimate you & you’re constantly trying to prove yourself. OR you can find yourself in situations where your voice tends to be over powered as you get lost in a sea of toxic masculinity! Either way, you know how to leave a room in awe. You carry just enough mystique & intrigue that male’s fight to know more about you, but yet they just feel as if you’re a naturally good person. You’re coy, but not too coy. You’re shy, but not too shy. You are the perfect “woman”. You may have a past, but your future is always bright! A hero waits around the corner for the perfect time to catch you when you fall or introduce you to a world you didn’t know existed.

As the Ingenue/Damsel in Distress, your energy is POWERFUL, almost as if you’re sexily yelling “Fire! Fire! Save me! Help me!” when you walk into the room. You know how to keep the male gaze & they will break their necks to see you eloquently walk by. Before the reign of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, you were the trope on top— the beautiful default representation of hyper-femininty in the 20s/30s/40s. You set the standards for the early starlets, they were nothing if they weren’t the lovely ingenue!

✨Music

Female Gaze: Bring Me to Life- Evanessance, Pretty When I Cry- Lana Del Ray

Male Gaze: Let Me Love You- Mario

✨Examples

Betty Draper- Mad Men

Celie- The Color Purple

Neytiri- Avatar

Autumn- P-Valley

Daisy- The Great Gatsby

Persephone- The [Abduction] of Persephone

Irene- Drive

Angel Evangelista- Pose

Disney Princesses

Broomhilda- Django Unchained

Piper Chapman- Orange Is the New Black

Mississippi- P-Valley

Penelope- The Odyssey

Satine- Mulan Rouge

💋Girl Next Door/Tomboy

Nakshatras: Anuradha, Uttara Ashadha, Shravana

Planets:Jupiter, Venus, Neptune

Zodiacs: Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces, Taurus, Libra

Tarot Card: Princess of Pentacles (Earth)

“The girl next door is usually from a small town or an un-flashy neighborhood. Her personality tends to be down-to-earth, supportive, and approachable. For both her main boy and her culture at large, the girl next door embodies an idealized, wholesome femininity.”

-the-take.com

✨The Girl Next Door/Tomboy Trope is by far the most realistic & relatable female trope of all. She’s not flashy. She’s not mean. She’s kind & sometimes even “one of the guys”. She gives off an innocence that makes her irresistible to the male gaze because she’s just so darn cool. She’s “not like the other girls”. Although she may prefer a comfy t-shirt & jeans, she’s comfortable in her femininity. She doesn’t try to compete with other woman— even though other woman my try & compete with her. Why? Because she’s usually the girl surrounded by all the guys— not because she flaunts her beauty, but rather because she’s not stuck on herself. She challenges the status quo demonstrating that sexy can be fun, sexy can be sweet & sexy can be “normal”. Zendaya is arguably the IT girl of a generation & she usually plays this type of character. She comes across as someone you can sip cool-aid with after she beats you in a round of basketball! For some, that’s sexier than Marilyn Monroe herself! This is the All-American (no matter the race) beauty that only lives a few doors down. This trope is most likely to be in the “friend-zone”, until one day the male realizes…”OH MY GOSH! SHE HAS BOOBS!”

If you are an Anuradha, Uttara Ashadha, Shravana Rising OR a Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces, Taurus, Libra Rising, you could come off as the Girl Next Door/Tomboy female trope. You’re approachable & not stuck on yourself & that makes you highly desirable through the male gaze. You’re simple & non-demanding like some of your other female counterparts and this makes you a breath of fresh air in a Kardashian fueled instagram dystopia. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you know how to clean up nicely! When it’s times for you to put on a skirt & heels, you knock ‘em dead. You’re stunning! But you’d much rather lead with personality than looks. You have an effortlessness about you that can’t be obtained by just anyone. At times you may feel a bit awkward about your sexuality, but again, through the right male’s gaze, this is SUCH a turn on. This is an extremely powerful trope because you are realistic. You may have big dreams, but you feel like you come from humble beginnings. You’re authentic to yourself, not to Chanel & Gucci. Sometimes, you may feel overlooked & one-up’d by the “popular girl”, but there is ALWAYS someone who thinks you are the most beautiful girl in the room because you light up the room like no body else & don’t get me started on the way you flip your hair & how it gets the boys overwhelmed. You don’t know you’re beautiful…and that’s….that’s what makes you so beautiful. How lovely!

If you are the Girl Next Door Trope, you don’t have to worry about putting on a show to impress the boysies around you. Just continue to be you’re cool & down to Earth self. Even though it seems like we live in Shallow Land, where everything is based on superficial looks & flawless instagram selfies, you’re super special because you don’t give in. Don’t conform & don’t rush to be the “it” girl. You don’t need the BBL & the thick lashes. (NOTHING IS WRONG W THIS!!! NOTHING~~~) Your natural beauty is more than enough through the Male Gaze!

✨Music

Female Gaze: All You Wanted- Michelle branch

Male Gaze: Hey There Delilah- The Plain White Tees

*sorry I couldn’t link it! Ran out of space!

✨Examples

MJ (Zendaya)- Spider-Man

Zoe- Grownish

Victoria-Victorious

Monica- Love & Basketball

Bella- Twilight

Justice-Poetic Justice

Peggy- Mad Men

Moeisha- Moeisha

Betty Cooper- Riverdale

Blanca Rodriguez- Pose

Apollonia- Purple Reign

Danielle- The Girl Next Door

💋Diva/Boss Bitch

Nakshatras: Pushya, Magha, Uttara Phalguni

Planets: Sun, Saturn, Mars

Zodiacs: Leo, Scorpio, Taurus, Aquarius (All Fixed Rising Signs) & Sagittarius, Capricorn

Tarot Card: Queen of Pentacles (Earth & Water)

“The strong, dark, beautiful woman. She's often a go-getter, chasing stardom, wealth, or just recognition for her talents. If she becomes an Idol, she's not constrained by the pressures of always appearing youthful, innocent, and approachable.

Part of her allure is instead her maturity, either in personality or in sexuality. When she walks in the room she not only turns heads, but she demands respect and won't hesitate to set you straight if she doesn't get it.”

-tvtropes.org

✨The Diva/Boss Bitch Female trope is THEE BADDEST BITCH. She’s worked hard to get where she is & she isn’t going to let some MAN come along and knock her off her thrown. This female trope demands a certain level of respect when she walks into the room— all heads turn because they know she’s the boss, just waiting to give quick & sharp directions. Usually fashionable, because she can AFFORD it (hello!), she knows how to command in any setting while looks good. A trend setter! She may be one of the most intimidating of the female tropes through the Male Gaze, on par with the Ice Queen, because the Diva carries a certain masculine energy. She usually is running things & bossing men around herself. She doesn’t let her sex get in the way of her ambition & talent. This character trope is not afraid to speak her mind because she knows she has just as much right to a seat at the table as anyone. She’s hard to impress & won’t settle for anything less than perfect. Mediocrity will NOT FLY with the Diva. She expects & she will have the best.

If you are a Pushya, Magha, Uttara Phalguni Rising or a Leo, Scorpio, Taurus, Aquarius, Sagittarius, or Capricorn Rising, you may come off as the Diva/Boss Bitch female character trope. You seem to prioritize work, success & your ambition over friendships & relationships. You force the males who gaze upon you to reevaluate their own status & merit in the world. They know you can’t be easily swayed & have to step to you with their best foot forward. Usually depicted as an insatiable boss, men may feel you’re an insatiable lover— demanding & hard to please…whatever, this doesn’t stop you! You know what you want & if they don’t get it for you, you’ll get it your damn self. You come off as self-assured & somewhat egotistical. You’re proud of your work & you expect to be treated like the BOSS that you are. If someone has a problem with that, well then, they can just get in line! Olivia Pope in Scandal is a great example of this trope in action. First, she has a J.O.B. & she’s DAMN good at it. The best, even. Her sex appeal through the male gaze is due to her wits & her competence. Like you, as soon as she walks into the room, people know it’s business time.

If you are the Diva/Boss Bitch Trope, don’t let ANYONE discredit your hustle—not another woman, not a man…NO ONE! You’ve worked hard to get where you are, and it shows because of the way you carry yourself. You can be one of the classiest tropes of all & that’s more impressive than you could ever know. Your beauty lies in the fact that you are sophistication personified. Your intrigue lies in the fact of your rarity! Not every woman is as ambitious or as capable as you are. You make men shiver when they lay eyes on you because you have an aura that screams “STEP YOUR GAME UP OR GET TO STEPPING!” Never try to dim who you are. You’re bossy & you’re the bitch they all LOVE to hate! Let them! You’d probably hate you too if you weren’t you because you are just too fly to handle! Confidence oozes from your pores because you know your stuff. Although it’s lonely at the top, you enjoy the view of downtown from your corner office! It’s hard to compete where others don’t compare Ms. Diva! Own it!

✨Music

Female Gaze: Flawless- Beyoncé

Male Gaze: Ms. Independent- Ne-yo

*sorry I couldn’t link it! Ran out of space!

✨Examples

Olivia Pope- Scandal

Blossom- Powerpuff Girls

Miranda Priestly— Devil Wears

Annalise Keeting- How To Get Away With Murder

Sylvie- Emily in Paris

Jaqueline- Boomerang

Shug Avery- The Color Purple

Cookie- Empire

Mercedes- P-Valley

Matron “Mama” Morton- Chicago

[anarchy2021]

PSA Day! (Rp etiquette)

{ID: A person standing next to a flipchart. They're thin, and have medium-length brown hair, pale skin, and dark brown ears. The ears are angled horizontally. They're wearing thin-rimmed glasses, and their expression reads as confident. Their hair is partially tied up in a bun. They also have a long tail the same brown as their ears, with brown fur the same color as their hair on the end. They're wearing black trousers, a black waistcoat with a white shirt underneath. Additionally, a black overcoat with gold edges is draped over their shoulders. The inner lining of the overcoat is red, and partially visible behind the person. They have their right hand on their hip, and with their left hand, they're holding a stick up to the flipchart, which reads "RP 101 :)". The 101 is underlined. END ID.}

Greetings! You may not recognize me (unless you were watching the debate perhaps, then, sup) as I admit I’ve been a bit…. Behind the scenes as it were (as secretary of VOID there is a lot of looking at the void, usual routine for me mhm mhm). Regardless, I’m Days (or Nights, either or) and for today’s PSA I’m here (along with some words from our recently freed from totally-not-prison president, Graphite, at a later date) to talk to you about roleplay! More specifically, rp etiquette and terms and how that relates to the DSMP and how it should be talked about. 

Now now, you might be wondering “oh but what is your experience?” Glad you asked! I’m a long term text rper with over 5 years of experience- and my main avenues of rp are rps similar in structure to that of the DSMP- long term improv driven sandboxes that also have important events planned ahead of time in some regard but are often player driven most of the time. Now, let’s get into it!

Head writers/admins

Let’s start off with a pretty hot topic regarding the server, which is the existence of a ‘head writer’ (usually in reference to Mr. Soot). Now, mainy take this as meaning quite literally a writer- like in a show, but, with what information we have I think it’s safe to say he’s not really that and more along the lines of an rp admin/head. The admin’s main purpose is to keep things structured and organized, as well as putting together the events they’re in charge of. This is pretty much how everyone treats the man anyways, BUT, while an admin is in charge of a lot they do NOT have the final say over everything, particularly in regards to the characters and their players. 

Players in an rp for the most part have full control over their characters (within reason and the confines of the rp setting) and an admin enforcing their will onto a character (such as enforcing certain backstory choices that don’t seem particularly wanted. For example, the fridge with c!Phil) is often frowned upon unless there is a good reason for it and discussed with the rper. 

It is also notable that just because there is an admin, that doesn’t mean they’re the sole writer/organizer/etc. It is not at all uncommon for specific subplots and or other important events to be headed by players involved in it in this type of rp. This can be seen in practice with how the Eggpire plotline was headed by BBH and the prison plotline was mainly written by Dream and Tommy. 

Summary:

- head writer/admins do not and should not control everything

- organise and structure events

- players might admin their own smaller plots within a rp

Narrative consequences

Now, another hot topic- especially in regards to character discourse (my abhorred personally). Narrative consequences. These are generally referred to when someone thinks a character is not getting the consequences for their actions in the story that they should, or (more rarely in my experience) when they feel a character is being punished too hard for their actions. While this is an understandable feeling to have, at the end of the day narrative consequences just aren’t much of a thing in roleplay, at least not to the same extent as a book or tv show. 

This is for one simple reason, consequences rely on the character’s actions and how they respond to others around them, if a character does not feel like it’s fit to react or if it angers their character- it is 100% within their right to respond accordingly. 

However, there is also an argument that can be made if a character responds to something in a way that doesn’t align with a character’s usual actions. For a personal example, one time in a rp I was playing a character who was intervening when another character was being hurt, however, my character was met with scorn from being somewhat aggressive regarding it- I felt that this was unfair as none of these character showed the same scrutiny to characters who did worse things, and none of these characters had been established as hypocrites. 

This grudge lasted the entire rp until my character died. This is a point where believing that the consequences to a character are unjust is more or less fair, but, a character simply not getting immediately smited or a character getting scorn is not automatically a point against the character, especially since an rper cannot reasonably make their fellow rpers react a certain way.  

Summary:

- narrative consequences are not the same in RP as in other mediums

- can't force characters to react, or force players to react in a way they don't feel is fit

- but can critique RP if things feel unfairly ooc/inconsistent

Retcons

Next up, retcons. What is a retcon? It’s short for retroactive continuity, in essence it’s when in a piece of media something is changed retroactively- such as a character’s personality, how an event occurred, etc. for an outsider audience perspective retcons are often looked upon unfavorably, as it’s changing something already established which can cause friction among those attached to certain ideas, but in reality retcons are both a neutral concept and fairly normal to occur in rps. 

Rps are (generally) not professional writing, they’re things made up on the fly with perhaps a base to work off of (and depending on the rp, not even that. However in the rps I’ve done we generally had character sheets and the like for backstories and all) and thus sometimes mistakes happen. One of the main causes for minor retcons is when details are confused or left out that would have realistically affected the situation or how characters would have responded to it, unless in severe cases these usually happen on the spot and don’t cause much of a fuss. 

Major retcons often fall along the lines of players and how they choose to present their character. This is especially common when a player is using a character for the first time or even if they’re just new to an rp in general, sometimes as we rp we simply decide to take things in a new direction and sometimes that direction may cause things already established to be retconned, even if not outright stated. 

A good example of this is the enderwalk with c!Ranboo, the enderwalk as it was first introduced is very different than it is portrayed now, likely as a result of Ranboo taking a new direction with his character since then. More widespread retcons may happen if people are unhappy with a certain plot thread, in this case an example would be the canon status of SBI, Wilbur used to push it but Techno (and later Phil) didn’t want it to be canon, so anything about it previously said has been soundly retconned. 

In my own case character retcons very often happen to me when I first use an oc, as the character takes a different shape than what I put on the paper in practice, even sometimes within the same rp (one of my first ocs was practically unrecognizable as the same character in the beginning of an rp as compared to even just a few weeks later).

So, retcons are fine and normal to occur, but, like I said- they’re neutral. A retcon can very well be done poorly and cause problems. This is mainly in issue with retcons made that affect highly established and built upon aspects without discussion with all those who’d be effected, this can cause confusion, plot holes and cause characters to be in a weird limbo if they don’t know how to have their character act without whatever was retconned. Major retcons need to be discussed in order to prevent these problems, and in some cases should be avoided entirely- instead it being better to work for a compromise and rework events rather than removing them. 

Summary:

- retcons are normal and neutral

- small retcons happened frequently in RP to help keep things going in an improv heavy medium. Usually unnoticeable

- large retcons tend to have with new players, or if the story is taking a new direction.

- large retcons require a lot of communication, and sometimes whould be avoided, instead working to compromise and rework the direction of the RP

Metagaming and godmodding

Metagaming and godmodding are two very important terms to know for rp etiquette and if you’ve done any rping you’ve probably seen these words thrown around in rules lists and such already. These are both ultimately negative things that should be avoided at all costs. What are they? Metagaming is when you use information that you know OOC and use it IC even though your character should not have that information. Godmodding is when a character is taken over by another person for one reason or another against the player’s will- such as having a character react to something without letting the actual rper do it. 

The former is a big issue when it comes to discussion of the DSMP and how people interact with it, mainly in the chat and donos. When you are trying to get a character to react to information that they shouldn’t have you are trying to get them to metagame, which is heavily frowned upon in an RP. This is also important to note in discussion, a character not responding to certain important events is not a mark against them if the character has no way of even knowing what was going on, or would not reasonably respond to it with the information they have. 

Summary:

- both frowned upon

- god modding is taking over someone elses character

- metagaming is using out of character information to do in character acting

- Meta gaming is relevant to DSMP particular in how it relates to donos and chats. Don't encourage meta-gaming

All of these factors are important to consider when discussing the DSMP and it’s narrative, it’s not going to function the same as other forms of media nor should it- as once you go in that direction you’re competing with the big boys over at tv and at that point things would fall apart. Improv and it’s unique variables is what makes the DSMP, and anything else like it, special and interesting to follow!

[suunnysyde]

Haikyuu x reader headcannons

Guess what mamas 🙄

I died, decided to write Haikyuu headcannons for when they’re dating you, and voila! Bon appetite.

I made these for what?? Nothing, so I decided better get some use out of it.

* I tried to not make it too biased on anything, for example not many milk mentions for Kageyama or video games for Kenma. I slipped a few times oops.

Content under tag cause its a long one lmao

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[ GIRLS ]

- You and Alisa dress each other up.

- Alisa would take you shopping for your dates with Lev ( or her )

- You hype Yachi up when she feels down.

- You play volleyball with Kiyoko sometimes, that’s partly why she got good.

- Yachi probably has a lower than normal immune system so you’re taking her of her a lot, think of it as a way of giving back to her.

- Kiyoko prepares the most extravagant dates for you, if you ask why she merely says “only the best for my lover.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[ KARASUNO ]

- Kageyama would file your nails while you talk if he sees you picking on them.

- Hinata would go to school with his nails painted because his sister painted them. On that note, Hinata would paint your nails if you needed help on your non-dominant hand.

- Tsukishima and Akaashi would grab your hand when they’re nervous and squeeze it gently.

- Asahi likes it when you play with his hair.

- Dates with Yamaguchi would either be ordering take-out and binging anime or just cuddling and sleeping.

- Nishinoya would teach you ‘Rolling Thunder’ if you asked.

- Nishinoya also really likes it when you play with his hair.

- You and Tsukishima have study dates at a cafe and eat strawberry shortcake.

- Sometimes Sugawara goes to your house to cook for you. Or you both cook together and then share it to the team as a treat.

- Daichi would take you out to a carnival and win whatever you want for you.

- Nishinoya’s grandfather adores you, and always asks how you are. And scolds Nishinoya in front of you sometimes, saying how he should treat you right.

- Tsukishima would make playlists with songs that remind him of you.

- You let Yamaguchi explain volleyball shenanigans so he remembers them.

- Kageyama *loves* getting hugs from you, but doesn’t start them in fear you don’t want to reciprocate the hug.

- If you play volleyball you practice spiking with Hinata so he can practice receiving.

- You and Asahi go to movie drive ins and cuddle in the backseat.

- If you do something to Asahi’s hair, like a hairstyle, he would wear it around without taking it off. Nishinoya comments on his hair saying how he’s lucky to have a girl like you.

- The pretty setter squad ( specifically Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi and Oikawa ) are all really observant so if you have some random cut they’ll and you don’t notice they’ll put a bandaid on you.

- Daichi keeps a note on his phone on things you like and don’t like plus things you’ve said.

- Tsukishima let’s you wear his glasses when you two are alone, he enjoys seeing you happy. Even if he doesn’t admit it.

- If you have freckles Hinata would count them and draw constellations on your face. ( bonus: he kisses each individual freckle )

- Kageyama tries to braid your hair, he’ll probably just tangle it though.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[ NEKOMA ]

- Kenma knows how to braid hair pretty well, so he would often practice on you, if you have short hair small braids.

- Kenma also likes to rest his head near your neck, it feels like you’re somehow protecting him from the outside world.

- Kuroo takes you on beach dates during summer vacation.

- You and Kuroo would throw insults at each other to see who gets mad first, loser normally buys food. On that note if you’re close to breaking and you’ve lost twice in a row he’ll call quits.

- The pretty setter squad ( specifically Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi and Oikawa ) are all really observant so if you have some random cut they’ll and you don’t notice they’ll put a bandaid on you.

- Kenma would name his starter Pokémon after you, since he keeps his starter till the end. ( bonus: uses a lot of potions on you so you don’t faint )

- Kenma gets you stuffed animals when he goes to the arcade.

- Yaku treats your wounds if you trip and scrape your knee. ( carries first aid kit for his wounds )

- Alisa would take you shopping for your dates with Lev ( or her )

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[ FUKŪRODANI ]

- Tsukishima and Akaashi would grab your hand when they’re nervous and squeeze it gently.

- Bokuto often calls you at 3am to ask you to go with him to a supermarket or to tell you he’s outside your house.

- Akaashi would help you study for your exams, he can quickly grasp any subject’s basics.

- Akaashi would read you what he’s reading at the moment, or a resumen of what’s happening.

- TW: SWEAR // Kenma is shit at 8ball so he tends so ignore your 8ball advances.

- The pretty setter squad ( specifically Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi and Oikawa ) are all really observant so if you have some random cut they’ll and you don’t notice they’ll put a bandaid on you.

- You and Bokuto dance in the rain even if Akaashi advises against it because you two always get sick afterwards.

- Bokuto loves PDA and showing you off in general ( “HEY GUYS! LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL LOVER!” )

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[ AOBA JOHSAI ]

- Iwaizumi does work out dates ( pls his muscles )

- You and Oikawa would watch crappy movies and judge them. Especially sappy romance movies, though he jokes about going on cheesy dates with you.

- The pretty setter squad ( specifically Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi and Oikawa ) are all really observant so if you have some random cut they’ll and you don’t notice they’ll put a bandaid on you.

- Oikawa would ask you to make him lunches as he adores your cooking.

- Iwaizumi makes you lunches, pretty good cook.

- If any of his fangirl do anything to you Oikawa will not hesitate to scold them, he won’t leave your side afterwards for a week.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[ SHIRATORIZAWA ]

- Tendo and Futakuchi would start prank wars with you.

- Tendo once joked about committing arson with you. ( once, for now )

- Tendo brought you to an abandoned building with pizza and you both ate pizza at the rooftop before stargazing.

- Tendo has joked frequently about stealing a stop sign though, it’s on his bucket list on things to do with you.

- //TIMESKIP Tendo makes you chocolate for when you’re on your period ( if you like chocolate )

- Ushijima *never* gets sick. Bacteria are scared of him.

- Tendō always talks to you about the latest manga and encourages you to read it with him.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[ JOHENZI and ITACHIYAMA ]

- Terushima once brought you out to a laser tag date, it got intense. He lost. No mercy.

- Terushima’s music taste changes every month so every month he makes you a playlist of the songs he likes most.

- Sakusa likes it both when he plays with your hair and when you play with his, although he won’t admit the latter.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[ DATEKO ( DATE TECH ) ]

- Tendo and Futakuchi would start prank wars with you.

- You and Aone go to petting zoos as dates.

❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

OUTRO

now, now, wait. Before you go. If you made it this far lmao, allow me to serenade you, with Haikyuu Chants

TW: all caps

( idk if I had to mark that but I know someone who hates all caps so ye )

AOBA JOHSAI, AOBA JOHSAI ( OH! )

OOOOH SEIJOH

NEKOMA NEKOMA, NEKO NEKO, NEKO MA

SHIIIIIRATORIZAWA ( dun dun ) SHIIIIIRATORIZAWA

GO GO LETS GO, LETS GO DATEKO

NOHEBI NOHEBI NOHEBI * smt in japanese * HA CHI CHI CHI

[blu-archer]

Sharing is Caring?

Just some more AU sickness because why not?

snz based

Sickie: Tae - mild Jimin

Caretaker: Jimin [kind of?]

m/m [squinting at Yoonmin] and mentions of what I’m poorly portraying as ace. I’ve never tried to write about it before so forgive any misrepresentation please..

anyway...

Apart of this little universe; Flower shop and Bakery au 

This piece mostly felt like me rambling, but it was kind of fun so I’m posting it.. sorry for any errors

-

-

Taehyung sniffled as discretely as possible as he wondered through the isles of the large supermarket, doing his best to avoid people even though he had made sure to grab a face mask before leaving the apartment to avoid spreading his germs. Technically they could be considered Jimin’s germs… but he wasn’t one to blame his platonic soulmate.

After all, they lived together. This outcome was inevitable.

 So he hovered awkwardly through the store trying to move as quickly as possible by grabbing immediate necessities rather than the usual browsing of the shelves. And after the desperate sneezes that had surprised him by the canned foods and had kicked his headache into 5th gear, he wanted nothing more than to already be at home and back in bed.  

The photographer paused a bit away from the freezer holding the ready-made meals – something that had become a must-have for the pair if they wanted to survive living together – waiting for the few people there to finish before he made his own snatch. He blinked lazily at the rows of boxes that he could just barely make out. He would have to grab a few, they hadn’t done ‘grocery’ shopping for the month and it had come back to bite them. The few supplies he’d gotten days before had dwindled to nothing in a blink of an eye. He’d woken up that morning looking for food so he could take his next dose of medication and had been met with a small portion of days old take out from the noodle place down the street and what was left of the soup Jimin’s boss had dropped off for him after he’d called in sick.

And Tae was getting really tired of soup, despite only being on his second day of feeling like warm death.

So he had taken the courageous, probably mildly stupid, step to go shopping. They needed more tissues anyway, and he didn’t really know anyone in the area that well yet despite having moved a few months ago so it’s not like he could make a plea for help.

Jimin had been thoroughly knocked out in his bed with a mound of extra blankets that hadn’t moved from their place since Yoongi had put them there after bringing the smaller man home from work the day before. So Taehyung had just scribbled a brief note and pinned it onto his door so that Jimin would know where he was if the slim chance of the elder waking up did actually happen.

A gap formed as a couple broke away from the freezer and Tae swiftly slipped in front of it, muffling a cough into his arm before he made a move to slide open the glass top. Taehyung was jolted from his actions as something – a body, definitely a small body – crashed into his legs, immediately reaching out with one hand to steady the child that wobbled upon impact even though his own balance wavered drastically. Thank god for fast reflexes, if he hadn’t dropped his basket and rested his hand on the freezer then he probably would’ve fallen straight on his ass. That would have been almost as embarrassing as the canned food isle incident just minutes before. This day just wasn’t getting better.

He had just barely looked down at the small boy who had almost caused his next disaster when his foggy attention was dragged away to the next rapidly approaching figure.

 “Sehjoon!” An exasperated voice snapped before the small boy was pulled from Tae’s weak grasp. “I’m so sorry, he’s wild. Did he-“The man’s eye widened a bit and then he smiled, losing some of the tension in his body. “Its Taehyung, right? Jimin’s new roommate?”

 Tae blinked, nodding slowly although he couldn’t really be considered ‘new’ since a few months had already passed, and it wasn’t the first time that he’d shared a space with Jimin. The man looked familiar, and he clearly knew who he was, which meant he was probably one of Jimin’s friends from work. Taehyung tried not to feel too bad about not remembering whose name went with which face, he was often busy with his own work when Jimin would tell him about what happened during his working hours, so he couldn’t be expected to remember too many details. It was a similar situation when he tried to explain to Jimin the different editing terms while trying to perfect whatever photos he had done. He couldn’t count the numbers of times he’d just watched his best friends eyes glaze over with some familiar vague nodding.

 “I’m Hoseok, we met a while back when you first moved here.”

The man seemed to ooze happiness as he picked the boy up to rest him on his hip. Taehyung shuffled on his feet. He was a little unsure of what to say next. Usually he didn’t struggle with making conversation, but his head felt like it was filled with cotton, he couldn’t be faulted for this flaw of character right now.

 “Sorry,” Hoseok chuckled, rubbing at his neck with his free hand. “Jimin speaks about you all the time and even Jungkook and Jin mention you every once it in a while, it kind of feels like I know you.”

 “Uh…oh. Yeah. Jimin speaks about you a lot too.” Tae replied, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His voice coming out deeper and with the beginnings of the congestion he’d hoped wouldn’t come so soon in the day. He cleared his throat in hopes that it would help. “The florist, right? With Yoongi?”

 It clearly didn’t help.

Hoseok’s smile faltered, turning more sympathetic. As if he had quickly pieced the obvious together.

 “Yeah, that’s me.” He shifted the boy on his hip when small hands grappled to be let down. Hoseok dropped his smile for a moment to give a stern look of disapproval that seemed to work like a spell over the boy as he went silent and placid in the mans hold. “I’m sorry about Sehjoon here. My sister asked me to look after him for the day and I think she both underestimates my babysitting capabilities and overestimates her sons behaviour. I was actually sent out of work for a bit because Yoongi needed a break from this level of chaos… Hey, he didn’t hurt you or anything right?”

 “Oh, no. No.” Tae gave a croaky laugh that irritated his throat. It already felt rough from the amount of coughing he’d done during the night and it appeared that he was nowhere close to being done with that. Turning away, he coughed deeply into his arm, twisting away despite wearing a mask, and winced at the spark of pain that had shot into him. God, he was so over this cold. “Sorry. He barrelled into me, but he would probably be at more risk of hurting himself than me. Has a hard head though. Definitely able to knock some people out with that.”

 That brought a bubble of sudden laughter from the other man that left Tae slightly bemused and yet, it was an odd feeling watching Hoseok laugh. A warmth of sorts spread over Taehyung when the man tossed his head back and seemed to glow as his shoulders shook. It was more contagious than Jimin’s illness and Taehyung couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the man as he began to tease his nephew shamelessly about being a new weapon of destruction. The boy simply whined and curled his head into Hoseok’s neck, apparently not seeing the same humour as his uncle.

  “I should get him a leash to be honest.” Hoseok joked, but Tae had a feeling the glint in the mans eyes meant he was deeply considering it.

 Taehyung didn’t really know how to reply so he just nodded slowly and turned his attention back to the freezer, recollecting his basket before just grabbing a few different meals at random and tossing them in with the juice and tissues he’d already gotten. Whatever it was he and Jimin would eat it whether they liked it or not. He had been out longer than he wanted to be by now and he wasn’t wasting more time on things that they probably wouldn’t taste much of anyway considering how this cold was progressing.

 “Not much of a cook?”

 Tae glanced to Hoseok who seemed to be shifting his weight as he looked towards the meals casually.

Sniffing lightly, Taehyung tried to suppress the desire to rub at his nose through the mask. He shrugged, his hand moving up to brush some hair from his eyes. “Never really learned. Jimin can’t either, but this is better than living off of take out.”

 “I can see Jin rolling in his figurative grave.” Hoseok chuckled. “If you want I can mention to Jungkook how I ran into you,  despite you clearly not feeling well. I can guarantee that you and Jimin will get visited by Yoongi and Jin with at least a months-worth of premade meals to be frozen because they heard from Jungkook that you were both malnourished and possibly dying.”

 He blushed at the call out on being sick, but to be fair, he hadn’t thought he’d run into anyone that would actually talk to him or that this store would be so busy during work hours. He also didn’t doubt Jungkook’s ability to exaggerate, Jimin had told him about some previous examples that had at the time probably caused Jin a lot of stress. It mostly seemed innocent but very few could look into Jungkook’s eyes and not believe everything he tells them. Tae had only just started speaking to him more and he already knew that.

“Please don’t. I can’t even bear to look at soup after these past few days and I have a feeling that would be a strong contender of what one would give a sick person.” Against his original will, he rubbed a finger to his nose as it twitched with an itchy irritation. “I need to get home actually; we had no food left so I should try to get back before Jimin wakes up. And I am about ready to sleep for the next week.”

 “Oh wow. So you really are in need of pre-made meals filled with some love and care.” Hoseok’s voice dipped into one similar to how he had teased his nephew. “Well, I won’t keep you then. You should get home and rest, but if you want to take me up on sending the s.o.s. message for food delivery, Jimin has my number.”

 Taehyung thanked the elder man shakily, and even managed to get a small wave bye from the boy, barely having time to hear the small apology for bumping into him before he abruptly turned away and buried his face into his elbow.

 H’EESH..hH’HEGXSHhh..

 There was a startled ‘oh’ and then deep chuckles. Taehyung winced as he gave a liquid sniff with a low groan, feeling even more congested than before.

 “ ‘cuse ‘be.”

 “Bless you,” Hoseok laughed with a hand instinctively holding his nephew closer. He dipped his head in a small bow. “Sorry, it’s not funny. That sounded awful, but I got a fright and now I feel dumb for jumping.”

 If he had blushed before, then this was him setting himself alight. That had never happened before, he’d never scared someone with his sneeze. Jimin was never going to let him live that down.

 “I’ll leave you be now,” the man grinned. “Go home and get some rest. But when you feel better we should hang out some time. Jimin speaks about you all the time and I just think it would be great to see more of you… like with everyone. Welcome you to the city properly.”

 “I…yeah. Okay.” Taehyung brushed his hands through his hair and took a starting step back, trying to hold back any more sniffling. “I’ll see you around then.”

 “Feel better soon, Taehyung, and get home safely.”

 ******************* 

HEESHHU..H’HIESHH…snfff.. … Heh..h..hhh..HHeGXTCHh…hnnxgGTSCHew!... nghHEHHSHH!!!

 Taehyung panted out hot hitchy breaths as the tissue box was set in front of him as an offering. He laid a hand on the box to take it, his other hand hovered desperately over his face as he geared up for the next sneeze. His teary eyes had barely blinked open before they were forced shut once more, his throat and head pulsed with each sneeze that ripped out of him.

 “Ble-e’hh-hh-ss yo-uishhhiew.. H’ingxtshh… hih’itishhew!”

 Taehyung grabbed a few tissues and let Jimin keep the box as the elder coughed and crumpled into the seat beside him, before following Tae’s example of blowing his nose tiredly.  

 After shopping, Taehyung had managed a slow drive back to the apartment with multiple stops to tear open one of the tissue boxes he’d bought. It hadn’t helped much, and he had felt progressively worse as the minutes ticked by until he’d made it into the house, where he had promptly collapsed onto the couch with his tissues – only having to get up again to dump the food he’d bought in the fridge and freezer before sluggishly dragging himself to the couch once more..

When he’d been coaxed awake by Jimin gently shaking his shoulder, he had been met with a dim early afternoon sun and a plate a steamy food that had definitely been nuked in the microwave for longer than necessary. And from there they hadn’t really moved much, other than Jimin having forced some medicine into them and making tea before joining Tae on the couch.

There was some drama playing softly on their tv, but neither of them really had the energy to focus on it properly and Tae could barely hear the dialogue anyway once the congestion in his sinuses began to interfere with his ears. Jimin had dragged in a blanket from his room and draped it over both of them as Tae added to the pile of used tissues that had begun to form on the floor in front of them. Nothing seemed to stop the constant tickle that plagued him, nor his noses inability to do what he wanted. Tae was considering just stuffing his nose with tissues at this point. Since the trip to the supermarket his nose had turned into a mess that was seemingly draining the life out of him. Jimin had assured him that despite what he thought, it would get better, but he was sure that his friend was just trying to be his usual hopeful self. Always ready to reassure and look out for him.

At least they were suffering together. That was an upside. Jimin claimed to be feeling a lot better than the day before and it seemed to be mostly true, he was definitely being more active than Tae wanted to be. Although that could also have just a factor of the smaller man sleeping like the dead for almost 20 hours and Taehyung thinking it was wise to leave the apartment earlier. He was just deeply glad that he wasn’t alone again.

 Tae hated being alone. Even when he was well, he’d tried living by himself before and it had eaten at him mentally. It’s a big reason why he had convinced Jimin to find a new apartment that they could share when he switched towns, instead of just finding a cheap single flat somewhere. Thankfully his Soulmate had been searching for something already, so he didn’t feel like too much of an inconvenience. Jimin had always teased him relentlessly for needing people but never wanting relationships, always just content with a friend to cuddle up to or hang out with. Yet watching Jimin and others grow into bonds and commitments always made him doubt. Jimin meant well with his chirps and edgy teasing, but it always made Taehyung worry about his future.

What would he do when Jimin finally moved on in life? It’s not like anyone would want to invest in a person that would never give themselves entirely to a partner... He would never fall into the trap of letting someone take what he didn’t want to give again, yet that was all everyone seemed to want from him. … Maybe he’d start up a cuddle site, or a hug program, he’ll think of a way to get the skin ship he needed without being a bother or a hazard to himself.

 “You’re thinking too loud again…” Jimin whined hoarsely and sunk into Tae’s side, rubbing his cheek into the other shoulder as he curled into him. “Your brainwaves are hurting mine.”

 “You’d need a brain to have brainwaves, you’ll be fine.” Tae mumbled as he ran a tissue under his nose with a sniff and yelped out a weary laugh when Jimin pinched at his ribs.  

 “Asshole.” The elder snipped, but the smile in his voice was evident.

  It took no prompt for Jimin to snuggle even deeper into Taehyung’s embrace, relishing in the warmth despite the dampness that had begun to seep through Tae’s shirt. It would probably be wise for them both to get in the shower – at the very least to rinse off their sweat and germs – but they were far too comfortable to move. Tae felt as if his body had become moulded into the seat and the heat that was created between himself, Jimin and their blanket; paired with the medication he’d taken, only made him dozier. Even as his mind raced through various what-ifs of the future, his eyes gradually drifted shut up before jerking open with any sound or movement. Soft hands brushed soothingly up his side, edging him closer to sleep with low humming, and just as his eyes closed again there was a sharp knock at the door that caused both of them to groan.

 “If we ignore it, they might think we’re not here.” Jimin whispered.

 Ah…H’ERSHH! ..

 “Never-“

 HE’ETCHSHH!!

 “… Never mind. Thank you Taetae.”

.

.

“Sorry..”

Another softer, more hesitant knock sounded through the apartment as Jimin pushed himself to his feet and handed control of the tissue box to Tae solemnly. He accepted it more desperately than he would have liked, but Jimin wasn’t going to judge him considering he’d been in the same situation just the day before.

 With a reluctant sigh, Jimin tried not to shiver against the loss of heat. “I’ll go see who it is then.”

  The photographer pushed himself up to sit cross legged instead off slouched down in the seat while Jimin left the room, so he could blow his nose as productively as he possible. Although his nose ached after so much blowing and he had immediately tumbled into a bout of coughing that had left him gasping and spitting into a tissue with a grimace, so he couldn’t really call it all that productive when it ultimately made him feel worse. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a yawn before considering just going to sleep anyway. From the front door he could vaguely make out Jimin’s voice – deeper and scratchier than usual – as he spoke with familiarity.

 Hopefully it wasn’t their neighbour. She had been hounding them about tidying up their balcony that, quite frankly, wasn’t that bad. Sure, it had way too many dead and dying plants and the chair out there had definitely seen better days, but if she didn’t like seeing it, she didn’t have to go out of her way to look. It wasn’t like they shared it.  

He leaned his head back to rest on the back of the couch and shut his eyes once more, trying to force himself to sink into sleep, yet it was now low grumbling and airy giggles kept him from rest. Irritated, he shifted so that he lay curled up on his side, tossing his heavy limbs around until he’d managed to get the soft, fluffy blanket over his body completely and tucked under his chin. Now if Jimin could get back so that he could at least have someone to cling onto, then he’d be ecstatic.

 Muffled coughing grew closer until Taehyung heard Jimin call out to him just loud enough to not disturb his penetrating, consistent headache.

 “Look,” Jimin practically collapsed on top of the photographer holding a small bouquet. He slid off quickly when the force of the landing set off Taehyung’s own thicker and hoarser coughs. “Sorry but look what Yoongi brought.”

 Ah… so there was a definite hold on the ‘cuddle’ part planned in their day. Once he didn’t think his throat was going to rip to pieces, Taehyung blinked heavily at the various bright flowers that had probably been put together with more thought and precision than he could possibly imagine in that moment. Clearly Yoongi had decided to call in a delivery, he wasn’t really surprised. Jimin’s eyes shone as if he truly hadn’t expected the florist to stop by, and Taehyung didn’t think the elder really cared what he thought about it, he had merely fallen into an instinctive habit. Although, Tae would have preferred not to be assaulted with things that would possibly trigger his sinuses.

He scrunched his nose and pushed away the hand that held the glorified weapons. There were quiet steps and a gentle murmur from behind them that he would have brushed off as him hearing things, if only Jimin didn’t glance up with such a warm, wide smile.

“Beau’iful Chim.” Tae sniffed and rolled so that the blankets rolled higher to hide his face.

 His cheeks were heated and Jimin turned his smile to him knowingly – albeit apologetic for letting Yoongi inside when Tae clearly just wanted Soulmate time. Jimin pressed a quick kiss to the small visible section of Tae’s damp forehead before getting to his feet with a stifled cough.

 “I’ll put these in water... You really didn’t have to come and check on me, you know.” Jimin said softly as he walked towards their kitchen. “Probably safer to just call.”

 “I’m not scared of getting sick, Jimin.” A low voice that could only be Yoongi, reassured as he followed the other. – So more than a delivery then.-  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday. Hobi said he ran into Taehyung earlier… Although from the looks of things he should have probably stayed home, poor guy sounds worse than you did – than you do.”    

 Jimin hummed, and Taehyung shifted to cover his head entirely beneath the blanket, trying not to listen to the couples conversation. Maybe he should just move somewhere else and let them have some space without having to hide in the kitchen. Of course Yoongi would have to accept the fact that he was entering an area of disease, but he seemed more than willing considering he was already in their home.

Tae gave a sigh and then a deep sniffle. He plucked a fresh tissue to wipe at the tender skin under his nose. It took a moment to work up the energy but eventually he was able to twist so that he practically rolled off of the couch. His knees and hand connecting a lot harder than he’d predicted to the floor, while trying to keep the blanket as steady as possible on his hunched frame. With sluggish motions, he tried to sweep most of the used tissues up with his hands and dumped them into the wastepaper bin kicked under the table, then after achingly persistent hitch started up that had left him feeling frustrated at the lack of relief – he considered the area clean enough before standing unsteadily. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly over his shoulders, he grabbed the tissue box to take with him – Jimin could find something else, he felt he needed them more. Then he had almost tripped on the way to his room and had muttered half-hearted curses at the blanket for betraying him and getting caught up in his steps, until finally he was able to collapse onto his bed.

Sure it was cold and probably smelt of sweat but it was at least more comfortable than where he had been lying and it had pillows that he could hug in replacement of Jimin. He buried his face into his arm almost immediately, sneezing harshly twice before he was able to bring a tissue to his nose and smother three more, breaking off into an exhausted, thick cough that left him feeling miserable and wanting nothing more to recollect the bottle of medicine he’d taken earlier and take the rest of it.

God, he really was so over this stupid cold.

[mollymarymarie]

Hi lovely! I wanted to start by saying I *adore* your fics. I'm making my way through them (slowly, until someone is ready to pay me to devote my life for reading fanfiction), and I'm loving every word.

If you don't mind, would you talk about your writing process? For example, I'd love to know how you go about planning/outlining, how much of a fic you write before you start posting, what your editing/beta/etc process is like.

hello darling! that is SO SWEET of you to say!! i'm so honored ❤️

this answer is going to be kind of a non-answer because i don't really ... have a process. well, i guess i do have sort of a process, but i don't typically outline the whole fic before i start.

I start with the MOST generalized idea. For example, with The Road Not Taken, I knew it was going to be based on Tis The Damn Season by Taylor Swift, so it was going to be about a celebrity leaving town, getting famous, and then returning years later to rekindle a fling with his childhood sweetheart. Going into the fic, I didn't know there was going to be a refused proposal. That just sort of ... happened. And it probably happened because of Champagne Problems.

That being said, I had NO plans for where the fic would actually go, what scenes needed to take place, particular characterization points (like James drawing on Sirius with a marker, which became sort of a running theme during the fic). I've said it before and it's kind of a cop-out to say this, but the fic ends up telling me where it needs to go. I'll write a scene, or START a scene, and it doesn't feel right. So I'll scrap that section and start over, rewriting until it WORKS.

While I don't outline, I do take notes. If there is something particular I run across that I think should happen or a characterization point I'd like to include (i.e. what Sirius' tattoos are in TRNT, the fact that Sirius wears glasses in We Can Pretend), I have a separate document that describes where the fic is going next or in the future or in the ending. If I scrap a section, I'll often save it here to come back to, if I liked the way I worded something but the timing wasn't right for that scene. That being said, sometimes I come up with ENTIRE background stories or plot points that I never use because the fic didn't lead me in that direction or it made more sense in the grand scheme of things to write it another way.

as far as editing, i'll usually reread a short section of scene that i just completed the day before and edit certain things that i wasn't FULLY happy with when i wrote it. i don't have a designated beta, (in fact, TRNT was not beta'd at all, strangely), but i have friends who offer to read things and give me critique/editing tips.

AND it's a personal rule of mine that I MUST finish a fic ENTIRELY before I post ANY of it, because I edit so much and so frequently. In fact, I completely finished TRNT before I posted chapter one and edited a piece of chapter one JUST before posting to make the timing of the fic a little more clear.

Anyway, this all is a very pretentious way of saying, no i don't really outline properly, but keep more like a broad schematic of the fic and notes that help me decide where it's going next or what i want to add

[mariamermaid]

Best Fake Smile

Neville Longbottom x fem!Slytherin Reader

Summary: After yet another set of detention, you come face to face with the shy Gryffindor student Neville Longbottom. But as you are doomed to clean the pots for the herb class, Neville catches you off guard…

Words: 2.2k

A/N: slightly inspired by the song “best fake smile” from James Bay

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

 Staring blankly at McGonagall’s long and stern face, you bit down on your lip. Maybe putting a hex on a student, a class above you wasn´t the smartest move.

The old witch shook her head, realizing you were barely listening anyway.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, you´re going to help Professor Sprout with cleaning up the pots for the coming classes, I don´t have time to bother giving attention to you yet again.”

Her harsh words drew you back into the present and slightly taken back, you nod without another word. There was no use in dispute.

Friday night, and you were spending it cleaning dirt off pots while your friends enjoyed their evening at Hogsmead. You huffed annoyed at yourself as you drifted to the greenhouses. At least you wouldn´t miss the Slytherin Quidditch game tomorrow and as a fellow Slytherin student, you hoped for a victory. Mostly because the parties afterwards were known to be legendary and drowning some of your thoughts in fire whiskey seemed all too welcoming right now.

To your surprise, the light in the greenhouse was still on and you caught a glance of a certain Gryffindor student.

“Longbottom”, your voice cut like glass through the air and Neville jerked, his head turning towards you.

“What did you do to end up here?” You asked further strolling through the rows of plants until reaching the pile of pots, where Neville already stood. The change in his appearance was hard to miss, even for you. Once crooked teeth and slacking posture had disappeared from the Gryffindor boy, he was also taller than you for the first time. Unlike other Slytherin students, Draco for example, you found no interest in the bickering with other students just for the sake of it. It was the reason why you had practically nothing to do with Neville, he was off your grid.

Even though his grown attractiveness was admiring, he seemed nervous around you.

Truth was, he didn´t do anything. Neville had chosen this task out of his love towards plants, not as a punishment. But he didn´t have the guts in telling you so. Instead, he shrugged, avoiding your glance again and continued cleaning.

“Missed curfew”, he lied. You nodded while raising your eyebrow.

You were known to get detention for causing much bigger troubles; hexing students classes above you, as well as relief teachers, missing curfews, sneaking out, spiking punch, prank wars with the Weasley twins and sometimes getting caught making out after Slytherin´s victory parties.

“Let´s get it over with, hm?” You sighed and grabbed something to help clean as well.

For several minutes you both stayed quiet, focusing on dividing the work.

Just as you were to grab another pot, Neville reached for it as well. His hand brushed against yours, warm and earthy, but quickly pulled back. The pot fell down to the floor and the crashing pieces made you wince.

“Sorry”, you both apologized at the same time, while leaning down to get the broken pieces.

“Don´t be sorry, it was my fault really”, Neville admitted hastily and you couldn´t help but stare at him.

“Such a gentlemen”, you muttered and Neville´s eyes lurked up to you. For once, he didn´t overthink and his tongue was quick to answer.

“Probably not used to it after Zabini.”

A huff escaped your lips. You hadn´t expected for him to drop a comment like this. But you found interest in Neville´s new, more daring side.

“Excuse you?”

Neville, instantly regretting his words, shrugged reluctant. “It´s just talk.”

“Talk? From who?” Your words were firm, Neville had taken a direction without being able to reverse.

“Just rumors going around, thought you and him are a thing.”

You growled, rolling your eyes and as much as Neville was scared, he was also curious in your answer.

“I don´t know what kind of dung brains tell you stories like that, but Blaise and I aren´t a thing! If you run across the person telling false rumors, you can tell me their names!”

You were clearly angry, but also a flustered. Neville watched your reaction closely, as he did so often in your shared classes. Truth was; he was head over heels in love with you. However, until this fateful evening, he never even thought in approaching you.  

“Just because we made out once or twice, by Merlin´s beard!”

His heart sunk from his head into his stomach and he felt his shoulders dropping. But he kept going in order to save himself from any embarrassments. “So, he´s not my boyfriend?”

You let out a laugh and Neville listened to the light sound of your voice. You didn´t laugh much, at least not in class. You grinned or snickered when you whispered with Pansy, but never an honest laugh. It made you seem way less intimidating, at least in Neville´s opinion.

“Blaise my boyfriend? Never. Just because they won at a Quidditch game and I had too much punch. He´s all bark no bite. What about you though?”

He was caught off guard by your question, which made you chuckle softly. “Me?”

“Yes, you Mister I had a glow-up over the summer holidays!”

He blushed, had you just complimented him? Awkwardly, he scratched the back of his neck, making you take notice of his strengthened arms and broader shoulders.

“Didn´t you dance with Ginny Weasley at the Yule ball?”

“The yule ball is long gone.” He explained and you nodded understanding.

“But as if your Gryffindor girls didn´t notice your change in appearance?” You asked lurking while leaning over the table. Neville shrugged. Yes, he had comments, but no girl had ever approached him. It was something he could only dream of. He might have changed on the outside, but on his inside, he still felt like the slender boy.

“Maybe you should ask someone out!” You exclaimed instead and his eyes traveled from the table filled with dirt and old roots, to your eyes. Your grin slightly dropped as he continued to stare at you directly and breathing calmly, until his gaze wandered to your lips.

Tilting your head ever so slightly to the side, your playful grin returned. What was happening?

“What makes you think I´d go out with you?”

It took all of his and Merlin´s bravery to answer as confidently as possible, while leaning forward as well.

“Maybe you´d enjoy not having to carry your act and not wearing that fake smile of yours.”

The corners of your mouth dropped immediately.

You liked to play, but there were these moments, standing still between time and reality, where you felt a hole in your heart.

Lonely, you felt lonely more often than anyone could´ve imagine, but no one ever seemed to care enough. Meaningless make out sessions only filled that void for short periods of time.

Your expression hardened and you pulled back, your hands hugging your side. The feeling of someone getting so close and personal felt new and you didn´t like vulnerability.

Slytherin, pure-blooded with a rich family; you were raised to act strong and independent, at the same time upstage. Your family was picture perfect in that very sense, but you craved the feeling of warmth and safety.

“What makes you think I´m faking?”

It was Neville´s time to chuckle, it was so absurdly easy to tell for him.

“Why should I tell you their names?” He asked instead, but your back was still facing his direction.

“Why does the cold-hearted Slytherin girl even care? No, you don't have to wear your best fake smile. Not with me. It´s just me after all.”

Silence settled, you felt your heavy breathing and the burning inside your stomach. The worst of all? Neville was right. And even though, he barely knew you, he could see behind the façade. Bitter taste spread in your mouth, slowly running down your throat into your stomach.

“I´m sorry, I had no right to say that.”

You spun around, facing the tall brown-haired boy again. He saw your teary eyes and your shivering body. He had struck a delicate chord, that he didn´t know the existence of.

Yet, you weren´t able to form any words. Neville cleared his throat, taking off the gloves and making his way towards the door.

“I think, you might need some time for yourself.”

You wanted to protest, stepping closer to him.

“You can´t leave me, what about our punishment?”

Neville let out another soft chuckle. “You´re here for punishment, I´m here because I wanted to help.”

Then he left you standing in the dim light of the green house, darkness surrounding the garden area for the herb class. You felt as the night crawled into the space and further in, right into your body.

You couldn´t sleep that night after finishing your chores. Your mind was running crazy; Neville Longbottom was right and you both knew it.

After endless turning in your bed, you got up with the first ray of sunshine on the next Saturday morning. As hard as the nightly events had been on your mind, you had come to terms with them.

You were so done; you didn´t and couldn´t care anymore.

There was only one thing left, that you hadn´t quiet figured out.

Why by Merlin’s beard, did a certain, shy Gryffindor boy not leave your mind. You remembered how Neville had left the greenhouse the night before; well, he did rather stroll.

The pure thought of it made heat rise to your cheeks and your stomach tumbling.

Was this boy, who had never stood out in a crowd due to his insecure posture and his crooked teeth, suddenly winning your cold, Slytherin heart?

 No you don't have to wear your best fake smile

Don't have to stand there and burn inside

 Your steps hurried through the great hall, but instead you found yourself at the Gryffindor table right in front of none other than Hermione Granger. Even at this early hour, she was leaning over a pile of papers and books. Surprised and confused, she looked up to you. Besides some minor contentions, which were mostly related to house pride, the two of you never much more to exchange views. Hermione had sorted you, just like most of the students, as an ambitious Slytherin girl with a reputation, to have a liking in playing with fire. But unlike other classmates in green uniforms, you never said a word about families with other bloodlines.

“Do you know where Neville is?”

Her mouth gaped a little open, completely confused by your statement.

“Neville? Neville Longbottom?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes.”

“Why do you want to know?”

Your jaw tightened, the talk and gossip was inevitable anyways and just like Neville had stated; Why does the cold-hearted Slytherin girl even care?

“I want to ask him out.”

If Hermione’s mouth was open before, her jaw basically dropped to the floor. She always knew the right, and considerable fitting words, but she was speechless now.

“He likes to take morning walks around the lake”, she mumbled.

“Thank you.” You nodded appreciating, before leaving her again.

The morning was cold and fresh wind hollered around the towers of the school. It was easy to find his tall figure, he was the only one walking at the lake. When he caught eye of your approaching, he couldn´t help but smile a little as his heartbeat quickened. Even with your messy hair and tired eyes, clearly your conversation yesterday had led to some sleep loss, you looked stunning to him.

A few feet in front of him, you stopped abruptly.

“Hi!”

Good job Y/n, very creative, you thought to yourself. Had he always been this tall? You wondered as you had to stare up a little. And his eyes, did you never notice his calm and kind eyes?!

“Hi?”

“I-“, you took a deep breath, then you continued. “I thought about what you said and you were right. I shouldn´t care, because it doesn´t make me happy.”

Neville nodded understanding, he appeared a little aloof. “I´m glad I could help.”

In the daylight, things were differently. His bravery to speak out his mind was gone, he had remembered who you are, and who he was. It all felt like a far dream to him. He wanted to keep walking, save himself the blushes and humiliation. But you were a true Slytherin, determined to keep going.

“Do you want to go out on a date with me?” You asked, practically yelling to stop him from leaving and Neville stopped in his tracks, slowly turning back to you. His face had softened, the same kind expression from the night before.

 She used to put it out and get it all back

But now she's slipping trying to carry the act

She's sweating under the lights, now she's beginning to crack

 “I don´t want to wear my fake smile and I think you´re cute and funny, maybe I can genuinely smile for once.”

Neville smiled from ear to ear, as he stepped closer to you, carefully taking your hands in his. There were warm and slightly rough from the garden work.

“It would be my pleasure to go out with you and maybe make you laugh a little.”

Now, finally, your lips grew into a smile as well and Neville´s hand placed a strand of hair back behind your ear.

“It truly suits you.”

[xenoblademisadventures]

I’ve been thinking about how Xenoblade 2′s character writing and why it doesn’t work. It's not uncommon in animes, especially ones with large casts, to make characters with a handful of really loud and obvious character traits and then have one extra character trait that the viewer can only learn about by spending extra time with them. For the sake of convenience, I'm going to call these "surface traits" and "hidden traits." To use Nia as an example, her surface traits would be that she's a snarky and sarcastic cat girl who is slow to warm up to the party while her hidden trait would be her fear of persecution over powers that she didn't ask for. Every major character in Xenoblade 2 does this.

This type of character writing has a lot of advantages, disadvantages, and requirements to make work effectively. The big advantage of writing characters like this is that they're easy for the audience to follow. This also usually results in characters who are easily identifiable among a large cast because you can list 3 or less surface level character traits and you'll know who's being talked about. When talking about Xenoblade 2, I could talk about a "super powerful hot-head," "talks like a butler," "flirts constantly and is uncool," and you can probably guess which character I'm talking about. This can also be really good for characters that the player isn't supposed to spend a lot of time with but the writers still want to leave an impression. The Rare Blades are good examples of the type of character where writing them like this is a good idea, especially since it's not guarantee that the player will do their sidequests or h2hs after getting access to them. This style of character writing also doesn't prevent writers from making interesting or complex characters. Pyra and Mythra are actually really good examples of characters that fit this style of character writing but are still super complex. When a story has a lot of these types of characters, they become interesting by having those attributes intersect with and synergize with as many other elements in the work they're a part of as possible. 

The reason why Pyra and Mythra are able to be extremely complicated characters that still follow this model of character writing is because the traits that the writers decided to give Pyra and Mythra feed into both the other character, the individual character, the plot, and the gameplay, but also it's possible to trace how the traits of other characters interact with them. Addam is a reluctant hero, normally that's seen as a noble trait in fiction. But in Xenoblade 2, Blades are emotionally reliant on their drivers to such a massive extent that it can shape both how a Blade views themself and how they view the world as a whole. So, Addam being scared of Mythra's power, having only resonated with her out of the necessity to defeat Malos, and often referring to "the Aegis" as "Malos, the guy who sinks continents for fun" all feeds into Mythra seeing herself as something that is dangerous and can only cause harm. This also feeds into the gameplay. Pyra and Mythra are presented as glass canons who deal nice crit. However, building Mythra towards being a dodge tank or giving her a crit heal build can make her really powerful defensively. Pyra's a lot weaker than Mythra because her attack doesn't reach the same levels as Mythra's and she doesn't have a lot of utility outside of dealing damage. This synergizes really nicely with their character arc because, for Pyra, it shows that Mythra really did see herself as only a weapon when she created Pyra, so Pyra, alongside being a lot weaker, is also a lot more limited to that role. While Mythra, while powerful offensively, becomes broken when used defensively. Which mechanically synergizes with her learning that she isn't an evil ball of destruction. They also have the potential to synergize nicely with the majority of the party. Rex doesn't know about the Aegis war gets to know Pyra as Pyra rather than as the Aegis. Azurda was there for the Aegis war and really should have something to say about Mythra blowing up Torna. Nia's character arc also involves her sealing away her powers because of a fear of being judged for them, Dromarch is an emotional support to Nia, Tora is responsible for creating a blade that can rival Mythra in power and Poppi is that Blade (considering how Pyra and Mythra feels about their own power, this could go somewhere), Morag and Brighid both rub the Aegis war in Pyra's and Mythra's face (Morag initially opposes Rex because she believes the Aegis is too dangerous to be left unsupervised and she's scared of the Aegis's power, which is a parallel that could be drawn to Addam's own attitude towards the Aegis, while Brighid was not only there for the Aegis war, she was extremely judgy and one of the people responsible for Mythra turning into Pyra), and Zeke and Pandoria don't really have any immediately obvious connections, which can be nice if Pyra's and Mythra's relationship with every other character is so closely related to the heavy topic that is her hidden trait. Of course, Xenoblade 2 doesn't do anything with most of these potential synergies, so they don't exist in the context of Xenoblade 2. But they are very useable and potentially very powerful in the context of fanfiction, which is why I made that comment. Mythra's already one of the most complex characters in the game and the writers only really did anything with her potential synergies with Pyra, Addam, and maybe Rex (which could have been further explored). In turn, Pyra and Addam are more interesting characters than they would have been had Mythra not been written to be a part of the story. If Xenoblade 2 had taken more advantage of the potential synergies between different members of the cast, the character writing would be a lot better than it is in the game.

A common issue with writing characters like this is that they can easily feel one-dimensional or tropey. These types of characters work best if you imagine any individual character as a puzzle piece rather than a whole thing to be viewed in isolation. Going back to the example of Pyra and Mythra, if you were to write Pyra without having Mythra or any of the stuff going on there, she becomes a boringly written character that only really plays into the sexist ideals of what makes a good housewife, with her surface traits being that she's demure, sexually innocent, and good at cooking. So by not making those connections and synergies when writing these characters, they become weak characters. The issue becomes worse when the characters synergize badly with other elements of the work they're a part of. This is an area where Xenoblade 2's big issue of its pieces not fitting well together comes to bite the character writing in the ass.

For example, one of the reasons Rex suffers as a character is because the writers tried to make him a weak child character who barely scrapes by most of his encounters, but this does not work well with Xenoblade 2's cathartic combat system. Xenoblade 2's combat system does a lot to make the player feel awesome. It has the flashiest attacks in the series so far, it has some narrator going "excellent" "awesome" "amazing," and it emphasizes the player juggling a lot of simple to execute ideas at once, which makes it extremely satisfying when the player successfully juggles those things and makes big numbers that go brr. This makes Xenoblade 2's combat really unique and fun (easily my favorite moment-to-moment combat in the series). But in relationship to how Rex is written, it's really bad. Gameplay is as much a part of the story of a video game as the writing is, so if the gameplay says "the party is an unstoppable, epic, flashy, and cool and this is a power fantasy where the party can handle anything (that doesn't instantly kill them)" while the story says "the party barely survives the majority of their encounters and the protagonist is way in over his head," then there's going to be a disconnect and players are likely either going to react by believing Rex is terrible protagonist who constantly loses or they'll lean towards believing that the gameplay isn't canon. Neither of these are good results.

The character designs are another aspect of the game that screws over the character writing. For these types of characters, they need to be accompanied by character designs where you can know at a glance what they're all about. This can mean having over the top character designs, but that isn't always the case. If you want some examples, the Fire Emblem series is generally very good at conveying information about its characters through its designs without needing over the top designs. Full Metal Alchemist manages to convey a lot of information about it's characters through their designs even with the majority of them wearing the exact same uniforms. Xenoblade 2 utterly fails at this goal when making its character designs. Pyra's the worst example of this, so I'll use her design to get at what I mean. She's a shy, modest, carries a lot of guilt with her, and is shown multiple times to either be ignorant or disapproving of horniness (mostly shown in H2H's involving Tora). Those are all pretty surface level traits about her, which her character design should convey the most loudly. Alongside that, it's also important that her design connects her to Mythra in some way since their relationship is extremely important to both of their arcs. Because Xenoblade 2 has a mechanical focus on dividing ether in different elements, it's a good idea for Pyra's character design to say "I'm a fire type" in some way. It may also be good to have the design imply that Pyra is a weapon and that she is sealed because that's also relevant to her character arc. Because the Aegis and the Monado are supposed to be connected (but that connection is a massive spoiler), Pyra's design should also have something subtly tying her to Malos and the Monado. Out of those things listed, Pyra's design does convey a connection to Mythra and it does say that she's a fire type. It either doesn't do or does an extremely poor job at conveying everything else. If Pyra is supposed to be demure, why is her design so flashy? If Pyra is going to have multiple lines of dialogue where she explicitly says that she doesn't like horny clothes, why is her design so heavily sexualized? Her flashy design works really well with the flashy gameplay and the sexualized design works well as a waifu collection gacha game, but that comes at the massive expense of the character. The character design and combat animations imply that Pyra is supposed to be cool and sexy, but the character writing says that she is not remotely close to that. If the purpose was to make the character design intentional contradict the character, then a point should be made about that rather than leaving it to the viewer to piece together whatever explanation sounds the smartest to them.

Another way that Xenoblade 2′s characters falter is that their hidden traits often don’t come into play outside of the moment when they’re established. Making anything like that just results in something where there’s a lot going on but it isn’t very interesting. Tora is the worst offender for this, he’s a super-genius, has a strong admiration for Rex because he’s a driver, is overweight, and has a maid fetish. This could easily lead into him having an arc where he has to learn to see Poppi as a real Blade or as a person (and it could synergize nicely with some of the later plot twists about all Blades being artificial lifeforms). It could put an interesting spin on the maid fetish aspect of his character because Poppi is on the receiving end of that most of the time. It could also work nicely with Mythra’s character arc because she has experience being seen for what she is rather than who. It could lead into Poppi having a character arc. Tora could also easily have an arc about learning to believe in himself. Which could work nicely with Rex’s development, or even Pyra or Mythra’s arcs. Instead, Tora gets all of his development in Chapter 4 (which really wasn’t a good time for it because there was a lot that needed to get unpacked with Mythra’s introduction and that gets sidelined a lot quicker than it should have been). And it focuses a lot on how Bana kidnapped his father and forced him to make a bunch of Artificial Blades and also finished Lila. There’s a lot of extra information added about Tora, but the game never draws a connection between Tora’s existing character traits and the new information, nor does it do anything to link those traits. So, a lot of people will see either Tora as a character as “the creepy Nopon with a maid fetish” or “the super-genius who wants to be a real driver.” The deeper stuff about him missing his dad and wanting to honor their memory by finishing a multi-generation long project barely has anything to do with any of his actions outside of this one arc. Alongside that, this hidden trait doesn’t synergize with his surface traits. It’s not that these character traits can’t reasonably coexist, but they also don’t feed into each other very well. And connections absolutely can be made between these traits, but the game opts not to make them.

Azurda is a character who suffers from the game not exploring its characters as much as it should. He is old and he likes to tease Rex but genuinely cares about him. Those are his surface level traits. His hidden traits are that he knows a lot more about the backstory than he lets on and withholds a lot of critical information from the characters because he doesn’t trust Rex to respond rationally with that information. There’s a lot that can be done with that, but the game does nothing. Azurda never expresses any opinion about Rex being Pyra’s driver despite having seen for himself how badly Addam’s partnership with Mythra went. Even if his opinion is that he’s chill with it, that’s something he should have been asked to elaborate on (probably by Pyra?). Instead, he doesn’t serve much of a purpose to anything. Brighid, Poppi, Morag, Dromarch, and Pandoria also suffer from a lack of being properly explored by the writing.

Another issue that Xenoblade 2 has with its character writing is that it turns some of the most important aspects of its characters into late-game plot twists. The advantage of plot twists is that they’re exciting, can carry huge implications for earlier parts of the story that the player can notice upon revisiting it, and can change the trajectory of the story in interesting ways. The problem is that these character plot twists tend to also be at the end of their arcs. The audience doesn’t know about Nia being a Flesh Eater or that she struggles with fear of rejection because of how people have reacted to her being a Flesh Eater until that conflict has already been resolved. We don’t learn about Pyra and Mythra being suicidal until a minute before it’s resolved. That’s a problem because all of the potentially interesting character stuff happens off-screen, which means the player doesn’t get to see it (unless they read fanfictions that specifically address these topics). I already talked about Pyra and Mythra, so I’m going to talk about Nia. Up until a bit before the Flesh Eater reveal, she largely plays straight-man to everyone else’s bullshit and makes a few funny snarky comments. Her role in the party comedically works really well. She is comedic gold and plays especially nicely off of Zeke. However, when it comes to her non-comedic writing, she struggles to be interesting. The first potentially interesting thing we learn about her is that she was allies with Torna (but didn’t know that they kill people? or did she just not think they’d murder a random innocent kid?) The game doesn’t use Nia’s former allegiance to Torna to progress her character, especially in the early game. Nia has been on the run from Indol for years and caused her so much fear that it prevented her from saving Vandham, that should have been a huge deal in the moment, that Nia could have saved him but didn’t. But because Nia being a Flesh Eater isn’t revealed to the audience until much later, the best we get is being able to see her hesitating and clutching her chest and that becoming significant on rewatch. Putting this plot twist so late also means that Nia doesn’t react to Mor Ardain capturing her, Cole openly revealing himself to be a flesh eater, Fan’s powers (in Chp. 4), or her having to exist in Indol nearly as much as she should have. It also makes her join Azurda in the ranks of having known critical plot information but chose not to share it party. The flesh eater reveal happens at an awkward time. Players will either realize early in Chapter 6 or in Chapter 7, depending on whether they caught on during the Niall revive scene. Either the plot twist comes out of nowhere and proceeds to not get addressed or receive any context until midway through Chapter 7 or it comes at a time when the viewer should be concerned about Pyra and Mythra and draws a bunch of attention away from that. Either way, Nia being a flesh eater only manifests in the story as an OP power-up after the reveal. This comes at the expense of certain scenes. For example, Nia soloing Malos visually looks really cool, but because the writing never puts any time on Nia’s relationship with Torna or how that impacted her views of herself as a Flesh Eater, there isn’t any emotional pay-off to this encounter. Her revealing herself as a flesh eater also falls into the same category. The scene is mostly known for “I love you and all you guys!” If the game revealed to the audience that Nia was a flesh eater and spent most of her life having to hide that fact or else be forced to go on the run or get taken advantage of for it, then her character development wouldn’t have to be all cramped into Chapter 7 and her two major scenes there could start to have some emotional payoff. Revealing her status as a flesh eater to the audience early on would also allow for Nia’s arc to compliment Pyra’s and Mythra’s. It could even allow Dromarch to have moments (since a lot of his character is based around him being a support for Nia). Unfortunately, the most interesting aspect of Nia’s character doesn’t get explored, doesn’t show up until really late in the game (late considering that she’s the second party member), and it gets crammed into a spot where the story should have been focusing on Rex and his ability to function without Pyra and Mythra’s help. 

Overall, the character writing in Xenoblade 2 is rather weak because while the characters do function well as comedic units, they try and fail to do anything deeper than that. Either the characters needed to have their deeper or more complicated features way more fleshed out (and also synergize better with other aspects of the game, such as the character designs and combat) or Xenoblade 2 should have backed off from its heavier themes and stuck to being a comedy. 

[sserpente]

A/N: Random idea. Very fluffy. A little awkward… probably what would actually happen if you took Loki to a thermal bath spa when you are seriously crushing on him… enjoy! ;-)

Words: 4087 Warnings: a lot of fluff, sexual themes, implied smut

Birthdays were special—or at least, they should be. For the last decade, however, your own reflection in the mirror had been the only one wishing you a happy birthday. You had grown used to it. Loneliness was not so bad once you learned how to deal with the ache in your heart. But perhaps this year could be different, even though by now, you avoided telling the people in your life about your date of birth.

You had joined the Avengers a little over eight months now—and even though they were all nice and kind, there was only one other person you truly connected with. Loki. The man who had, only a few years ago, attempted to subjugate the entire planet. You shook your head quickly. It had not been his fault, not entirely. He had suffered under Thanos’ torments as much as you had been suffering under your loneliness. He was lonely too. Thor was his brother but he was no longer a friend, not really. The distance between them, albeit not physical, felt heart-breaking to even watch.

Surely, Loki would not be opposed to joining you in the thermal bath spa today. You intended to treat yourself, clandestinely and quietly, for your birthday. Having Loki with you—the man you could not only spend countless sleepless nights with talking about life, desires and fears but also caused your reoccurring and uncontrollable wet dreams. Seeing him shirtless for almost an entire day would put the cherry on top of your imaginary birthday cake.

Cautiously, you knocked on his door, your bag already packed. You would not need more than a book to relax with, some snacks (some of which were healthier than others), a towel and another bikini to change into, especially since the exclusive sauna was a no-clothing area anyway. Oh… if you got Loki to join you there…

“Yes…?” Loki’s disinterested face practically lit up when he realised it was you who had knocked. Smiling, you squeezed yourself through the gap.

“Hi.”

“Good morning.” He frowned, eyeing your bag. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I am, and I was wondering if you would like to join me. I’m heading to a local thermal bath spa to relax a little. You know… whirlpools, saunas, massages…”

Intrigued, he leaned forward. He remembered receiving positively amazing massages from Asgardian therapists in the palace when he was younger. They had worked wonders on his exhausted muscles after his training with Thor.

“Who else is coming?” He asked.

“No one. Just you and me.”

The God of Mischief smirked. “Very well.”

-

It had taken him time to warm up to you, and he had not just once questioned your intentions and sincerity. It warmed your heart, seeing him blithe, cheeky and curious now whenever the two of you were together. It almost felt like catching glimpses of his old, light-hearted self—before he had found out he was a Frost Giant; and that his whole life had been but a lie.

Loki had a good heart—he merely protected it well.

“Are you telling me we are going to share these pools with other people?!” He exclaimed in a downright horrified manner as you walked past the first swimming area to the reception.

“Oh… yes.” You giggled. “I’m afraid so, the spa is open for other customers too, after all. I’ve booked a booth all for myself… so we’ll have as much privacy as possible, alright? Hi!” You smiled at the receptionist who gave you a court nod.

“I’ve made a reservation, the name is (Y/L/N).”

“Oh yes, Ms (Y/L/N), you’re right on time. Please, let me escort you and your partner to your booth. Inside, you’ll find our welcome package, including champagne and the hot chocolate for your massage. If you need anything else, you can pay with your bracelets which will also give you access to our sauna world. Any purchases made will be added to your bill when you check out, other than that… we’re happy to help if you are experiencing any problems.” The words bubbled from her mouth like the gushing waterfall in the whirlpool area.

“Oh, uh, yes, thank you.” You stuttered. You blinked, blushing furiously. Loki spoke up as soon as she was gone and left you to change into your complementary bathrobes.

“Hot chocolate… for our massage?”

“Um… yeah… the package I booked to get this booth is intended for couples, usually.” You had almost forgotten about that when you decided to invite Loki this morning… Well, at least, the booth was nice. Opaque and dimly lit, it reminded you of an indoor-tipi. Inside, a giant round mattress took most of the space, along with a small table with, like the receptionist had promised, the hot chocolate and a bottle of champagne with two glasses.

“Ah. I see.”

Your heart skipped a beat, no, several at once, when Loki’s blue gaze met yours. If only he knew about your wet dreams… with a sigh, you undressed until all there was left was your bikini. You truly couldn’t wait to dive into the whirlpool first thing before your massage appointments, but what you were looking forward to even more was spending an entire day with Loki completely shirtless.

You gulped, quietly, when he followed your example. Quite hilariously, he had been rather unfamiliar with the concept of swimwear. On Asgard, nudity was rarely frowned upon when it came to bathing, whether it was a giant bathtub or a lake—still, Loki had always had the privilege of complete privacy as a prince, so he had told you.

He had refused to borrow one of Tony’s bathing trunks and instead opted for magic. Now, all he was left wearing were a pair of black swimming trunks with green and gold accents, complimenting his pale, yet well-defined and muscly chest.

“Do you like what you are seeing, my dear?” Blinking, you cleared your throat, quickly looking away. You blushed again, causing the God of Mischief to chuckle to himself. He truly was a tease. By now, you had learned this much—Loki was constantly torn between his smugness and confidence because of his physical superiority over you and his own shyness and insecurities whispering to him that as a Jötun, who would ever find him attractive compared to the mighty Thor?

You longed to prove him a lot more often he was indeed a lot more handsome than the Thunderer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said finally, his cheeky grin growing even wider when you grabbed a towel and headed for the whirlpools. Loki followed you amused.

-

“Loki…?”

“Yes, my dear?”

You had been watching him, secretly of course, for the past twenty minutes now. How his muscles danced when he leaned back and closed his eyes, arms spread on the edge of the whirlpool and his Adam’s apple moving slightly when he swallowed… his wet body shimmering in the dim light of the spa… focus.

“Is there a reason nobody else is willing to join us in this particular whirlpool?” He really liked this one. For the past hour, you had been trying them all out. You could tell he preferred those with lower water temperatures. Oddly, however, other customers practically seemed to avoid the pool. Granted, some of them might have recognised him… but surely not all of them.

“I would never…” He teased, opening one eye and glaring at you mischievously. You grinned, shaking your head. For Heaven’s sake, you would only love to swim over to him and sit on his lap, find out what it would feel like to straddle him and to explore his muscles with your wet palms… but you would probably freak him out if you did. Loki had never indicated he had a romantic, let alone sexual interest in you. Your wet dreams would most likely remain just that—dreams. Wishful thinking. You sighed, taking a peek at the huge clock on the wall.

“We have one and half more hours until our massages. I’m gonna dry off and head to the sauna for a bit but you can stay here if you like.”

“No,” he replied quickly. “I will join you.”

You climbed out of the whirlpool with a smile, your body, instead of freezing, growing hot as soon as you heaved yourself out of the water. The cool air should have made you shiver, yet you felt your back burning. Loki was watching you, you were sure of it. Intently.

You returned to your private booth to put on your bathrobe, with Loki following you suit. It was nice and warm inside, perfect for a short break.

“Ugh, stupid hair…” Grumbling to yourself, you struggled to make your wet ponytail presentable again. The God of Mischief chuckled and raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smirk tugging at his lips.

“Come.” He said, reaching out for you. Blinking, and ignoring your rapid heartbeat, you obeyed. He made you turn around so you were sitting between his legs, holding onto his thigh for support. You had expected so much out of this spa visit with Loki… but not that you would become so aroused throughout the day. This man could be breathing peacefully and it would make you horny. For Heaven’s sake…

You almost purred when he suddenly ran his long fingers through your wet streaks to untangle it a little. He removed the hair tie easily and soon began to part your hair in three. Before you even realised what he was doing, he was already braiding it neatly.

“You… wow. Thank you. How do you know how to do that?” And how do I get you to do this more often? His fingers had felt wonderfully in your hair and on your scalp. You could only imagine him pampering other parts of your body…

“I used to do it for my mother as a child. I always came to hide with her in her dressing room. It somehow calmed me down whenever Thor and his friends… never mind.”

Turn around, a seductive voice in your head screamed. Turn around and kiss him, now! But you did no such thing. Instead, you darted away from him as if stung by an adder, much to his surprise.

“S-sauna.” You said quickly. “ Loki nodded, eyes, however, widening fast when you started taking off your bikini under the bathrobe.

“What are you doing now?”

“Uh, there are no clothes allowed in the sauna.” You mumbled in response, curious about how he would react.

Gosh, ever since your arrival, you were torn between seduce him and pounce on him and run away screaming. You just couldn’t decide… in fact… in fact you wished he would just pull you on his lap and kiss you senseless.

“You mean to run around naked? Among strange men?” He countered as he approached you slowly. He looked good in that white bathrobe, it complemented his wet raven hair… argh, focus! Loki sounded almost… possessive. A sign? Would he kiss you? Pretty please with a cherry on top? Perhaps you should just tell him it was your birthday and ask for a proper kiss as your birthday gift.

“I do it all the time, Loki. No one cares about the nudity in there. Besides, it’s rather dark in the cabins. I understand if you don’t want to do it though, you don’t have to come with me, I can—”

The God of Mischief snorted. “I am not letting you go there alone.”

You paused, mid-sentence, a smile tugging at your lips. Now you couldn’t just kiss him but at least, you could hug him. Loki always acted like he hated the physical affection you often showered him with but in that aspect, he was a bad liar. A sigh escaped his lips when he reciprocated your hug and wrapped his arms around your body. It was so tiny compared to his, the urge to protect growing within him like an ancient, primal need. Mine… he blinked.

Oh no, you were a mortal. He would not make the same mistake as his brother and fall for a woman who would die centuries before him.

“Let us go.” He had not told you yet but he was not overly fond of saunas. He was familiar with the concept, of course—steam baths and alike—but had usually avoided them back on Asgard. It wasn’t until he had found out he was a Frost Giant that he realised why he despised the heat so much and yet… he was willing to sweat with discomfort just so he could see your half-naked, no, all naked body all wet and warm and… Loki cleared his throat and let go of you like a piece of blistering firewood. Mutely, he followed you to the sauna world and used his bracelet to get inside.

He already longed to snap the necks of the men turning around to glare at you hungrily when you both entered, his left hand jerking slightly as he almost brought it to the small of your back to show them you were taken. They glanced away again quickly, realising Loki was not to be meddled with.

As soon as the two of you had disappeared into one of the cabins—an empty one, much to his relief—he flicked his wrist. A green, barely visible shimmer of light surrounded the opaque door. No one else would get to explore your naked body with their eyes now—only him.

Only then did he start to feel the gravity of the heat around him. It enveloped him, slowed him down… he took a deep, disgusted breath.

-

You shouldn’t be shy. Fuck it. Drop your towel. So you did, avoiding Loki’s heated gaze on you as you did and sat down. While part of you meant to lean back and present your breasts to him temptingly, another wanted you to cover yourself up again this instant. You looked up and…

Loki’s lips were parted. He didn’t even think about removing the towel around his hips. Instead, his greedy gaze wandered up and down your body, slowly and intimately. You gulped. It took him a moment to pick himself up.

Then, finally, he slowly removed his own towel, revealing the sight of his member. You swallowed thickly. He was big. Bigger than the average man, even in his soft state. Loki sat down next to you, another mischievous smirk playing on his lips. He knew. He bloody knew. He must have… right?

With any other Avengers, this situation would have been super awkward and strange but with Loki… it was peaceful. Neither of you felt ashamed to be naked around the other, no sounds disrupting the silence. The heat felt amazing, sweating all negative energy from your system even better. There was only the steam hissing in the background, the rapid beating of your own heart and Loki, panting frantically. Panting?

“Loki? Are you okay?”

“I feel fine.” He lied. You flinched when you looked over to him. Loki was blue, his eyes glowing red in the dimly lit sauna and his bare chest decorated with dozens of ridges you longed to trace with your fingertips.

“You’re blue!”

Taken aback, the God of Mischief gazed down at himself, jumping up as if stung by an adder as soon as he realised.

“A-are you okay?”

“Fine,” he choked out. You barely had a chance to reply before he stormed out of the sauna.

“Loki! Loki, wait!” Grabbing your towel before you could dart after him, you clumsily wrapped it around your body to cover yourself up. Loki had disappeared into the shower room.

He glared at you from the corner of his eye when he saw you approaching him slowly—ignoring the other naked man taking a shower as cool as you please. The pattering of the water onto the wet files echoing through the room pierced your ears the closer you came but you barely even registered it. Loki was leaning against the wall, palms pressed flatly against it. He looked normal again. Not blue.

“You were not supposed to see that.” He growled quietly. Hesitatingly, you put one of your hands on his shoulder blade. He had no idea how this could have even happened. His body reacted to the cold. To objects of Jötun origin, not to heat and hot air. It must have been a defence mechanism to cope with the sudden temperature change…

“It doesn’t matter, Loki. I knew about… well.”

“You knew I am a monster? A wolf in sheep’s clothing?” He snapped bitterly.

“I knew you were a Frost Giant. You’re not a monster. You haven’t eaten me yet, have you?” You joked, waiting for him to reply. When he said nothing, you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Loki, I didn’t think the heat would do… this. Are you… are you sure you’re okay? I don’t want to spend the rest of my birthday in the hospital.” Even though you were fairly certain a regular hospital could barely help the God of Mischief. You should have considered his race when suggesting the sauna. Why, for Heaven’s sake, hadn’t he refused to come with you? To… protect you, maybe? From other, greedy men? Your pussy clenched at the mere thought of it.

“What did you just say?”

“W-what? Nothing.” Shit.

“Your birthday. You said it was your birthday.”

Defeated, you gave him a court nod and shrugged innocently. “It… it is. That’s why I wanted to come here today, relax a little… and spend time with you. Let’s just… go back to our booth and forget this happened, alright?”

She is not afraid of you. She does not hate you. She is not disgusted. The thoughts tumbled through Loki’s head like a house of twigs collapsing in on itself. She wants to spend her birthday with you.

He nodded mutely, for once at loss for words, and followed you. He had sworn to himself to not make the same mistake as his brother, besides, a mortal was no match for him… right? How soon, however, would he once again find someone who liked his company simply for the sake of it? Someone who would spend their most important day with him of all people? Someone who did not despise his true nature? Perhaps… perhaps, he should reconsider.

Hungry for a snack to stifle the shock, you reached into your bag to retrieve a package of marshmallows once you were back in your private booth. It was your birthday, after all. You could have some additional calories today if you weren’t going to get any cake. Apart from that, you needed something to munch on, even after admiring Loki’s backside… and his very impressive manhood. You wondered, briefly, if his cock was covered in ridges too when he was in his Jötun form… and how they would feel inside of you. You should have looked down when you had the chance. Licking your lips with a hum in a weak attempt to distract yourself from your naughty thoughts, you ripped open the package and fished one of the marshmallows out.

In the meantime, Loki opened the champagne bottle and poured you both a glass.

“And what is that supposed to be?” He said as he handed you one of them.

“Marshmallows? You’ve never had marshmallows before?”

“No…” He responded slowly, rather suspicious towards the white sugar clumps.

“They’re sweet and soft and… here.” Unceremoniously, you dipped it into the hot chocolate. It shouldn’t go to waste, now should it? “Eat.”

Loki obeyed, still in doubt but he soon hummed in approval when he let it disappear in his mouth. “Delicious… Tell me, what was that hot chocolate intended for, initially?” He asked curiously when he had swallowed, nodding at it before taking a sip of his champagne.

“Um… well…”

Impatiently, he raised an eyebrow.

“It’s for, uh, couple massages. You know… you’re supposed to use the chocolate for… as…”

“Massage oil?” He finished your sentence with a nod. His blue eyes locked with yours, making your heart pound in your chest. By the Norns, he should have read the signs earlier. The way you looked at him—both shyly and provocatively at the same time… the way your breath caught in your lungs whenever he touched you, even if it was in the most innocent and decent way possible. You made him laugh, too. It had been a while since he had laughed, from all his heart.

“Hmm, I see. Well, perhaps you were wrong, my dear.” He mused and put his glass away, making his decision there and then. “Perhaps I will eat you after all.”

He smirked—maliciously at that when your eyes widened and he crawled up to you on the huge mattress, right until he towered above you. Unceremoniously, he reached for the hot chocolate and inhaled deeply. The scent was infatuating—Loki’s hungry glare, however, even more so.

“L-Loki… what are you doing?”

His lips parted, one of his hands reaching up to caress your cheek. You shivered, desire and affection rippling through you. What was happening here?

You couldn’t help it. Your eyes wandered down to his lips. What would it feel like to press your lips against his? What would it feel like… oh. He was kissing you. A moan escaped your throat when his mouth came crashing down on yours, kissing you gently at first and then, devouring your lips like his last meal. Your languishing glance, so it seemed, was all the invitation he had needed. Loki’s hands set your body on fire, exploring every inch of your skin, stroking your neck, your arms, your chest…

You squealed when he undid the messy knot you had tied into your towel, leaving you completely exposed beneath him. Once more, his blue eyes appeared to ravish you whole. Then, suddenly, you both witnessed and felt him pouring the warm chocolate over your chest and breasts, your already hardening nipples reacting to the sweet liquid immediately. Oh my… God…

You couldn’t have imagined it to be like this in your wildest dreams. Goose bumps lingered wherever his fingertips ghosted over your body, the droplets of chocolate tickling where they trailed down your sides, threatening to stain the mattress. Your breath was trembling from desire by the time Loki lowered his head to your body and finally released your now swollen lips, instead tending to the warm and sweet mess he had created on your upper body. His tongue darted out as he hummed in joyful anticipation, patiently licking you clean.

Your back arched, hips bucking up towards him and grazing his crotch. It was him who moaned this time, his free hand, for he propped himself up with the other, fondling one of your breasts. You wanted more. Oh, you wanted so much more. But not here. This booth was private but at the end of the day you were still in public. At home, back at the compound… if that was what he wanted too. Don’t be a fool… of course he wants it too, the horny voice inside your head complained.

“Hmm… this tastes much better than those marshmallows…” He purred. You whimpered when he sucked one of your hard nipples into his mouth and tenderly nibbled on it. The attention made you clench your legs. Betraying arousal was pooling in your centre, drenching your bikini bottoms. If he didn’t stop now…

“W-we’re going to miss our m-massages, Loki…” You attempted weakly.

Loki chuckled darkly. “Something tells me you wouldn’t very much mind that, my sweet.” My sweet… if you hadn’t been lying down, your knees would have given in now at the very latest. Loki had a lot of explaining to do, and so did you. You had pounced on one another like wolves in heat, like sex-starved beasts… but not now. For the time being, you would simply enjoy having broken the thin layer of ice remaining between you. “You are right, of course.” He added then. “I want to be the only one to hear you screaming my name…” Another low chuckle rumbled through his voice chords, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. Reluctantly, he released you and let you catch your breath. Naked, you sat up, eyeing him with a shy smile which Loki reciprocated. This spa day escalated quickly, you thought, giggling to yourself. Not that you were to complain.

He winked. “Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my  first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would  appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[egg-emperor]

More details about the AU Eggman that's obsessed with pink! I've had it for a couple of years but never talked about it because I still haven't made any presentable art of him in his main outfit lol. But I'm getting too impatient and I really want to talk about him!

He always wears pink tinted glasses with heart shaped lenses that he has two versions of, one pair that's as darkly shaded as game universe Eggman's when he's around the bright lights of his business places (that I'm about to reveal), and the other pair aren't as dark so you can still see his blue eyes behind the pink tinted lenses.

As for his clothing, his main outfit consists of a matching pastel pink blazer and pants that can be optionally shiny with a rainbow type gleam or sparkly because he's that extra. He always leaves the blazer unbuttoned and the shirt underneath is purple for a little change of color but can be a darker shade of pink too.

Regardless of the shirt he's wearing, as long as it isn't cold then the first few top buttons are always undone so his chest hair is visible through it because as a bear lover it's appealing to me and I don't need another reason alright fjsjfkdkghfjs Though it can be a good way for his expensive chains and necklaces to be more visible too!

He wears a big belt as loose as possible on its last loop and it has a golden buckle that can be the Eggman Empire logo or chaos emerald shaped, sometimes encrusted with pink or purple jewels. His shoes are more of a brighter almost hot pink shade, similar in color to the pink Eggman shoes you can unlock for the avatar in Forces lol

A lot of the shirts and coats with buttons he wears tend to strain quite a bit, it's very visible but he doesn't seem to notice. They surprisingly last for a while and he wears them out to their limit. People wonder why they look poorly tailored but it's because he focuses on the fashion rather than the fit lol. Fortunately it's not to the point where it's uncomfortable as he barely acknowledges it.

Main universe Eggman prefers to flaunt intelligence and beauty over wealth but this AU Eggman shows it off. He wears lots of bling and jewelry, mostly gold or with purple and pink jewels. For example, his golden and jewel necklaces and rings that he wears on multiple fingers on both hands, his pink stud earrings that are quite hidden by his mustache, and even his real and very expensive golden tooth that has a story behind it that he doesn't like to tell.

Further following on with his pink dominated color schemes, even his accessories such as his phone, bag, wallet, and lighters are all pink too! Rather than cologne he wears perfume so he's probably fucking strawberry scented like Lots-o'-Huggin' bear or something Idk but it's also pink can you believe this man lmfao

He has a few bad habits that are well known. Unlike main universe Eggman who made sure to avoid letting it happen, this Eggman grew up to take after his father not only as a business man but also by having a smoking habit. He smokes big cigars with thick smoke which he's a lot more used to than main universe Eggman, who can't smoke them without almost hacking up his lungs at times.

He feels like he always has to be doing something with his mouth so when he isn't smoking or eating a meal, he has something to chew on in the meantime- whether it's bubble gum, candy, or other sweet treats like donuts, ice cream, or cupcakes. And guess what all of them have in common? They're all pink and strawberry flavored! XD

He also likes his drinks and indulges in them more often than he probably should because it's popular in the night scene but he still doesn't do it enough for it to be a serious problem. Even the alcohol he drinks tends to be pink to keep the theme going too! And when he isn't drinking alcohol, he enjoys pink lemonade and milkshake. People can't believe how big his love for the color is sometimes lol

He's actually noticeably heavier than main universe Eggman, mostly because of the way he's often snacking and drinking like that, the buffet rooms he has at some of his business places, and the way he just has a lot of wealth and uses it to feed himself well with more meals in general. He's highly focused on his work both day and night so he doesn't get to exercise as much.

As for what he does- this AU Eggman shares some interests with main universe Eggman, only his biggest focus and interest is in casinos instead! All the casino-themed levels in the series belong to him but they're all more evidently Eggman themed and his pink Empire logo is slapped over everything. Casino Park is his most notable area but he has a chain of casinos all around the world.

It's his main public business but he actually has a number of secret underground operations involving some of his other interests that he runs under a different name, so people have no idea it's him. It's quite similar to how nobody knew main universe Eggman was the CEO of Meteortech. He pretty much lives a double life and is a completely different person night and day!

But he isn't a good guy overall, he's just as fucked up and evil but he sugarcoats it with his sweet pink and happy colorful casino aesthetics. He has a lot of secrets and is very sly and cunning like his main universe self. He also has his similar loud, rude, and egotistical personality but he also knows how to play up the charm and can easily sweet talk people into doing what he wants.

I'll be revealing more about how his business came to be and where he plans to go with it in a future post! It's in progress in my drafts now. But these are the first few things to know about him! 💜💕

[imjustthemechanic]

A Romantic Night at the Museum

Happy valentine’s day to @tytythepilot, who wanted a Pepperony HSAU in which they start out hating each other!

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It was a requirement for graduation: every senior at Triskelion High had to do thirty hours of volunteer work at one of a number of school-approved venues.  It was a duty a lot of students complained about, but Pepper Potts had known right away which she would choose.  There was a soup kitchen, a retirement home, a recycling centre, the humane society, and a few other places, but on sign-up day her eyes had gone right to the bottom of the list: the Empire State Museum of Modern Art.

It seemed ideal.  Pepper was planning to major in accounting, but she was interested in art and art history, and enjoyed visiting the ESMMA.  She was already familiar with all their permanent exhibits, so she probably wouldn’t even need an orientation.  The people who worked there would doubtless be impressed with her dedication.  When she put her name on the list, she did notice that nobody else had chosen the museum yet, but since she was one of the first to choose a venue, she didn’t think much of it.

On November first, Mr. Coulson the history teacher called the seniors down to the gymnasium to get the permission paperwork for their assignments, and to hand out the lanyards and tags where they would log their hours.  Pepper set impatiently in the folding metal chair while the various venues were called out. Red lanyards for the humane society were popular, as were green ones for the recycling centre.  By the time he got close to the bottom, there didn’t seem to be very many people without lanyards, and Pepper was starting to wonder if there would be anybody else volunteering at the museum at all.

As it turned out, there was one other.

“Finally, for the ESMMA,” Mr. Coulson read out at last, “Potts, Virginia, and Stark, Anthony.”

Pepper bounced to her feet and looked around, blinking in surprise.  Tony Stark?  She knew he went to Triskelion High School – who didn’t? – but so far she’d only ever glimpsed him from afar.  From the gossip that surrounded him she knew he was the son of a wealthy and powerful businessmen, that he’d dated most of the cheerleaders but couldn’t remember their names, and that his picture had been on the front of the October issue of the Triskelion Shield newsletter because he’d won some sort of state science prize.  He wanted to work at the museum?

She didn’t see anybody else standing up, though. The other students were all chatting together and comparing lanyards… maybe Stark wasn’t here today?  Pepper grabbed her canvas backpack, covered in pins and buttons for various causes she supported, and hurried to the front.  Mr. Coulson was waiting at the bottom of the stage, holding out the orange lanyard for her.

“There’s nobody else for the museum?” she asked.

“Word gets around,” he replied, ticking her off on his list.  “You and Stark were the only two who signed up.”

“Great.”  Pepper hung the lanyard around her neck with a grimace.  “I get to babysit the rich kid all by myself.”  From what little she knew of Stark, she had no illusions that he would do anything during their volunteer time.  As far as Pepper had ever been able to tell, he didn’t even do anything in his classes – she’d seen him sleeping in Ms. Hill’s Calculus course. He probably paid somebody to take his exams for him.

“Depends on where the museum needs you,” Mr. Coulson said.  “You might not even see him.”

“God, I hope not!” Pepper snorted, and turned around… only to find herself face-to-face with a boy.  He was about her own height, with unkept dark brown hair that needed trimming and brown eyes, and wearing an expensive-looking blazer over a Pink Floyd T-shirt.  She recognized him immediately, of course.  It was Tony Stark, in the flesh.

The colour drained from Pepper’s face.  How much had he heard?

“At least the babysitter’s cute,” he said.

That answered her question – he’d heard all of it.  Pepper stepped past him and walked away as fast as she could, shaking.  Now she was in for it.  The whole school knew everything Stark said and did… it would be a miracle if they weren’t all talking about her by this time tomorrow. And she was going to be stuck with this guy at the museum for two hours a week, the rest of the semester!  Maybe she could catch pneumonia or something and be excused from the rest of the school year.

Her friend Betty was waiting for her at the gym exit, wearing the red humane society lanyard.  “You’re going to be volunteering with Tony Stark?” she asked.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Pepper informed her, and kept going.

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Tony watched the girl disappear in a huff of ginger hair and oversized sweater, then turned to Coulson for his own lanyard and badge.  “What crawled up her butt?” he asked.  There were lots of girls in school who didn’t like Tony – there were lots of girls outside school who didn’t like him – but most of them at least knew him.  As far as he could remember, Tony had never spoken to that one before.

“I don’t think she believes you know anything about art,” said Mr. Coulson.

“Yeah?” Tony asked.

The truth was, he didn’t really.  Tony’s parents were patrons of the ESMMA, along with several other museums in the city, so he’d figured the employees there would be nice to him – but he wasn’t into art for its own sake.  Tony preferred things that could be quantified and figured out, while art, particularly modern art, was the exact opposite of that.  He’d signed up on the assumption that the museum would give him flash cards or something so he could lead tours and answer questions.  He could memorize things like that in a few seconds and be fine. Now, however, he’d been given a challenge.  Who was this girl to judge him when she’d never even met him properly.

“Well,” he said, “she’s gonna find out how wrong she is.”

That evening, Tony sat down in front of his computer – he’d built it himself, out of parts of several others – and pulled up the museum’s website.  With a can of Red Bull at one elbow and a package of pretzels at the other he sat up almost until dawn, going through the online collection and reading about artists, movements, and styles.  Tony could handle being called a lot of things but nobody was going to think he was dumb.

By Friday afternoon, after a couple of additional trips to both the public and museum libraries, he felt he was more than ready. He’d even dug out an old ESMMA t-shirt he’d gotten for free at one of Mom’s fundraisers, and was wearing that and his lanyard as he leaned against one of the metal pillars outside the museum entrance.  The museum wasn’t expecting them until four, but there was no way Tony was letting the girl be earlier than he was.

It worked, too – he’d been waiting nearly fifteen minutes when she finally got off the bus.  Her long ginger hair was in two braids, and her slender figure was absolutely lost under an enormous camo-green cardigan.  Tony was gratified to see her surprised to find him there.

“Afternoon,” he said.

“Hi,” she replied warily.

Tony smiled at her.  “What’s your favourite piece in the ESMMA collection?” he asked, as if making polite conversation.  “I’m partial to Csaky.  Picasso’s a little too abstract for my tastes.”

She frowned for a moment, then shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve never thought about it. Probably the Water Lillies.”

“Monet, cool,” Tony nodded.  “Nobody else I asked at school had signed up for the museum. It’s good to know there’s somebody else around who’s got some taste.  What do you think of Monet’s red paintings?  Are they artistically interesting, or just medically?”

The girl began to smile.  “They can be both,” she said.  “With impressionists it was all about how they saw the world, right? It was their impression. Both Monet’s cataracts and the removal of them affected that, so it should be reflected in his art.”

Tony had expected her to be squirming by now, having realized she was wrong about him, but that didn’t seem to be the case.  He tried to go a little deeper.  “What do you think of the idea that after his surgery he could see into the ultraviolet?” he asked.

“I hadn’t heard that before,” she replied.  For a moment Tony felt triumphant, but then she continued on, apparently oblivious to the fact that he’d just shown he knew more about impressionists than she did.  “I wonder what effect that would have… could we even see it?”

Tony was about to cite a Journal of Art History paper he’d read on the subject, but then one of the big glass doors opened and a man in a blue shirt and white tie, wearing an ESMMA nametag that identified him, appropriately enough, as Art, looked out at him.  “Are you two the kids from Triskelion?” he asked.

“Yes,” the girl said, reaching to took the guy’s hand. “I’m Virginia – people call me Pepper.”

“And I’m Tony,” he stepped up to do the same.

“Oh, I know who you are,” said Art, and shook Tony’s hand with enthusiasm.  “I’ve seen you here with your folks.  Come on in! We’re always happy to have kids from the school.”  He held the door open for them.  “We look forward to it all year.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it, myself,” said Pepper. “I’ve been to the museum quite often, and I know the layout pretty well.”

“And I can identify every piece in the place!” Tony bragged, not to be outdone as the followed Art inside.  The foyer of the building was spacious, with high ceilings, white walls, and abstract-shaped red couches.  “That one behind the admissions counter, for example, that’s Matisse’s Two Masks.”  He snickered. “The one that looks like a mantis shrimp wearing cool sunglasses.”

Pepper looked at him as if he’d just sprouted a second head, but didn’t say anything.

“Man, it kinda does, doesn’t it?” said Art, grinning. “Great, now I’ll never unsee that! Right this way.”  He led them to a door marked staff only, and touched his employee ID card to a panel to unlock it.  The inner side had a complicated push-bar arrangement on it, the sort that would probably set off an alarm if somebody tried to open it without permission.

“Ohhh… are we gonna be working in the off-view collections?” Pepper asked in a reverent voice.

“Sort of,” said Art.

They went down the stairs to the basement level, and through a maze of rooms full of shelves and boxes and things carefully stored in glass cases, to a door with no special signs or locks on it, just an ordinary lever handle.  Beyond that was a little room with one tiny, dingy window way high up in the wall, looking out on a parking lot, and a lot of metal shelves stacked high with what appeared to be garbage.  There were cardboard boxes full of paper, trash bags bulging with heaven knew what, stacks of old magazines, packages of unopened paper plates and plastic forks. Tony frowned as he looked around. He hadn’t seen anything like this on the website?

“Is this art?” he asked.

“This is our surplus from last year,” Art replied. “Menus and leaflets and merch.  We need you guys to sort it out – what we can still sell, what we can recycle, what we can donate, and so forth.  We save it all year so you kids will have something to do.”  He looked so proud of himself, as if he were expecting them to be excited about this.

Tony glanced at Pepper.  Her mouth was open in astonishment.

“The café and vending machines will give you sodas and snacks at half price with your lanyards,” Art said cheerfully.  “If you need anything, you can call somebody there.” He pointed to a set of buttons below a speaker on the wall.  “See you at six!”  And he walked out, whistling.

Pepper’s backpack fell out of her hands and landed on the floor.  “Word gets around,” she said aloud.  “Nobody told me.”

The look on her face and the mournful tone of her voice would have been full as hell if Tony hadn’t been feeling pretty betrayed, himself.  “This is bullshit,” he declared.  His parents had donated thousands of dollars to the ESMMA over the years.  He’d studied for this, and they thought all he was good for was sorting garbage?  “I’m going to call my Mom,” he said darkly.

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Pepper felt like the bottom had dropped out of her stomach and all her insides had gone splat on the gritty concrete floor.  She’d been looking forward to this for a month, as a chance to work in the stimulating environment of the museum, enjoying art and helping other people enjoy it, too.  Now it turned out they expected her to spend the whole time shut in the basement?  No wonder nobody else signed u for the museum! Why hadn’t she asked around? Clearly somebody was telling the seniors to avoid the assignment!

It was Stark’s statement that snapped her out of her moment of shock.  Pepper had kept her head down the last few days at school, waiting for the ridicule to start, but it never had.  It seemed like nobody had overheard the exchange, and Stark must not have told anyone about it.  She’d begun to hope that he just wanted to forget about it, too.  Her hopes had risen even further when he’d actually seemed to want to talk about the museum and the collection, and when she’d noticed his parents’ names on the big granite slab in the lobby floor.  Maybe they were going to get along after all…

Now it was clear after all that he really was just a spoiled jerk.  He was here because he thought his family’s involvement would get him special treatment and he was pissed because it wouldn’t.  Well, maybe it would do him good to live in the real world for two hours a week.

“Is that what you do every time you don’t get what you want?” she demanded.  “Go crying to Mommy and have her fix it for you?”

Stark scowled at her.  “Oh, and I guess you’re totally fine with it?  You were geeking out a minute ago!”

“I am not fine with it!” Pepper informed him.  “I am bitterly disappointed, but some of us don’t have rich parents who can make sure we get our way!”  She looked around again at the room’s ill-organized contents, then picked up her backpack and set it on a chair.  The sleeves of her cardigan wouldn’t stay up, but she made a show of rolling them anyway before she dug into the first box of magazines.

“What are you doing?” asked Stark.

“I’m doing what I was told to do!” she snarled. “Because I need the credit to graduate, and unlike some people I can’t just nap through all my classes and bribe the school to pass me anyway!”

For a moment Stark just stood there as if she’d slapped him. Then he drew himself up to his full height, which was not impressive when he wasn’t any taller than Pepper, and demanded, “what is your problem?  I never even met you until the other day, and you already hated me!  You honestly think I can’t do this?” He gestured to the piles of junk.

“I think you won’t,” Pepper replied primly.  “I mean, look at you – you’re just standing there! Your parents are so rich you’ve probably never had to do anything in your entire life!  I bet your Dad pays off the teachers to give you good marks!”

“I get good marks all by myself!” Stark huffed.  “I happen to be a genius!”

If that were supposed to make her think more highly of him, it failed miserably.  Pepper threw a magazine at him.  “You’re an egotistical twit!” she said.  “If you can work, prove it!”

“Maybe I will!” he said.  He stood there a moment longer, looking around, and Pepper wondered if he would refuse after all, out of sheer spite.  But then he grabbed a box of merchandise from a now-defunct special exhibit on Lichtenstein and started sorting them, rather violently.

Pepper smirked.  At least she’d gotten him to participate.

“You’ve got no right to pass judgment on me when you don’t know me,” Stark said after a while.

“Maybe you shouldn’t worry so much about what other people think of you,” Pepper retorted.  She opened a second box, and found it was full of old calendars.  The guy named Art had said they saved things all year for the Triskelion volunteers, but these were fully three years old.  Whoever had been conned into doing this in the mean time couldn’t have been very thorough.

“I don’t care what other people think of me,” Stark said.  He was stacking souvenir water bottles into two pyramids, one of bottles that had last year’s date on them, and one that did not.

“Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t be mad at me for not liking you,” Pepper pointed out.

She looked around at the mess, and felt her jaw muscles tighten.  This was clearly a job that desperately needed doing and, just as obviously, nobody wanted to do it.  The museum staff didn’t want to deal with it, so they left it for the students.  The students didn’t want to deal with it, so they didn’t  sign up for the volunteer work.  Pepper certainly didn’t want to do it… but that in itself awakened a weird form of rebellion in her.  Fine, then. She would do it, and she would do a spectacular job, so that nobody else could ever do half as well! She dumped the calendars back in their box, and got out a marker to write the word recycle on the side.

“I’m not mad,” said Stark.  “I couldn’t care less if you like me or not.  I’m just saying you have no right to an opinion.”

“Of course I do,” Pepper said, “and you’re not making me like you any better by whining about it!”  She grabbed another box.

“Maybe I don’t like you, either,” he retorted.

“Good thing I actually don’t care what you think of me,” sniffed Pepper.  After their interactions so far, she would have been disappointed if he didn’t hate her.  The last thing she wanted was to appeal to a spoiled brat like Stark!  She looked over her shoulder at his pyramids.  “What are you doing with those?”

“Seeing how high I can stack them,” he replied.

“We’re not here to play,” Pepper informed him.  The next box contained multicoloured stress balls. For a moment she wrestled with temptation, then she threw one at Stark’s bottles, as if they were a setup pin a carnival game.  They wobbled, then crashed down.

“Hey!” he protested.

“We’re here to work,” she told him.

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That interaction seemed to have set the tone for the entire evening, Tony observed.  This girl was absolutely determined to do the job they’d given her, even though it was a stupid rip-off of a job, and if Tony hadn’t been so determined to hate her back he would have found it kind of admirable.  If she had that kind of work ethic in her classes she might well end up valedictorian… and since the school was in the habit of choosing one valedictorian of each sex, that meant Tony might find himself sharing a stage with her in June.  That sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

Art had promised to let them out at six.  He’d also told them they were welcome to go for snacks or bathroom breaks, but Pepper – why was she called that? Because of her freckles, maybe? She certainly was peppered with those – didn’t stop.  Tony was getting hungry and cranky, but he didn’t stop, either.  Pepper had thought he’d know nothing abut art and he’d proven her wrong.  Now she thought he wasn’t willing to work hard, so he was going to prove her wrong on that, too.

Six o’clock came and went.  Upstairs the museum was probably closing up, and Art would arrive any minutes.  Pepper kept at it, though, tossing vaguely cubist plush animals around like she planned to do it all night, using her phone as a flashlight to peer into dark corners of the room looking for more.  Tony wondered if he ought to say something, but if he did, she might think he was being lazy and he wasn’t going to let her have that.  He continued taking bundles of pamphlets out of their elastic bands and dumping them in the ‘recycle’ box as his watched ticked past six thirty and approached seven.

Then the lights went out.

For a moment the two of them just stood there in the dark, blinking.  A little bit of light came in through that high-up window, but it wasn’t really enough to see by.  After a few seconds, Pepper turned her phone flashlight back on, which made Tony yelp as she shone it directly in his face.

“Hey!” he protested.

“Sorry!”  She quickly moved it.  “Did you do that?”

“What?” asked Tony.  “Turn the lights off?  Why would I do that!  They probably went off because it’s way past six and the museum is closed.”  He went and moved a box so he could stand on it and look out the window.

Pepper stared at him, then looked at her phone screen. “Why didn’t you say something?” she asked.

“Because you would have gone aww, is the little rich boy tired?”  Sure enough, there was nobody moving out in the courtyard.  The café tables had been put away, and he thought he could make out somebody on the opposite side locking a door.

“So you do care what I think of you,” she said, but didn’t seem interested in arguing the point.  As Tony opened his mouth to reply, she turned away and shone the light around the room.  “Which way to the stairs?”

“This way.”  Tony hopped down from his box and turned on his own phone for extra light. A fat lot of good it had done him, he thought, to memorize those museum maps.  None of them had included the basement!  But by the light of the LEDs the two young people managed to wind their way through the maze of rooms.

“Oh, Jesus!” Pepper exclaimed, grabbing Tony’s arm.

“What?” he turned around, and nearly jumped out of his own skin as he saw what looked like a winged, humanoid figure looming over them.  Then he realized what he was looking at was the shadow of a sculpture in dark stone, projected on the wall and ceiling by the light, and recognized it from the website catalogue – at least that had done him some good. “That’s Csaky’s Messenger,” he said.  A black granite cubist angel.

“I knew that,” said Pepper, relaxing her grip.

“No, you didn’t,” he teased.  “What did you think it was, Mothman?”

“Shut up and let’s get out of here,” she said. “This place is creepy in the dark.”

It had been kind of creepy in the daytime, Tony thought, with all the old sculptures covered in sheets and so forth.  When he moved his own light around the room the shadows seemed to come to life, and it did make the statues look terrifyingly animated. He tried not to think about that as they continued to the stairs.

It was an effort not to cheer when they finally sighted the red EXIT sign.  Tony took the stairs two at a time and pushed on the bar handle, not really caring if it set off an alarm.  It did not – in fact, the only sound was a dull clunk, and the door did not move.

Tony tried again, wondering if he’d simply pushed it too hard.  He got the same result.

“Now what?” asked Pepper.

“It’s locked,” he said.

“What?”

“Don’t panic, it’s not like we’re gonna run out of air or anything,” said Tony, rolling his eyes.  “It’s just a locked door.”

“Yes, but that means we’re stuck in here!” she protested.

“It’s not like the museum’s empty!”  Tony put his shoulder against the door to rattle it. “Hey!  Hey, we’re locked in!” he shouted.

“Help!” Pepper chimed in.  “Anybody out there?  Help!”

They continued shouting for a few minutes, but it got no reply.  If anybody were out there, they couldn’t hear them – or they were just ignoring the cries.

“Why didn’t that guy come back to tell us it was time to go?” Pepper wailed.

Tony very much wanted to know that, himself.  “I guess he forgot about us.”  He rattled the door one last time and waited a moment, but there was still no response.

She grabbed his arm again.  “You can call your parents!”

Tony pulled free of her grip.  “Oh, now who wants to call my rich parents to fix everything?” he couldn’t resist saying.

She narrowed her eyes.  “That was a tantrum.  This is an emergency.  I’m sorry I made fun of you, okay?  Please call them.”

The apology was startling, but it didn’t change one important fact.  “I can’t,” Tony said.  “Or if I did, it wouldn’t do any  good. They’re in Vienna this week.”  He scowled.

The light on Pepper’s phone shut off with an unhappy buzzing sound, but by the light of his own Tony could see that she looked disappointed.  “So you were just ranting when you said you were gonna have your Mom yell at the museum people?”

“No, I was gonna talk to her, it’s just that it’ll probably take ages for her to do anything about it, because she’s out of the country and she doesn’t like staying up all night to make phone calls,” Tony grumbled.  “Why don’t you call your parents?  At least they live here in town.”

Pepper nodded and looked down at her phone, then swallowed when she saw the screen.  “Uh… actually, I don’t think I can.  I’ve had the flashlight on too long and the battery is dead.”

He reached into his pocket.  “You can use mine.  You know their numbers, right?”

“No,” she admitted, squirming a bit.  “We haven’t had a land line since I was twelve. I’ve always had their numbers in my phone.”

“Well, that’s just great!”  Tony kicked the door and then went to sit down on the top step. “So what do we do, just sit here all night?”

“You said you were a genius!  Can’t you figure something out?” she asked.

Tony huffed.  There she was again, thinking he was dumb.  He knew that she was doing it on purpose, and that if he kept reacting the way she wanted, she would quickly come to decide that she could make him do anything she wanted by saying she thought he couldn’t or wouldn’t… but at the same time, he couldn’t let her think she was right.  He thought back to the museum maps he’d looked at… this stairwell hadn’t been marked on any of them, which meant the public wasn’t supposed to use them.  All the exits probably locked the same way.  What he needed was a way to pick the lock, which was going to be difficult when it was inside the bar apparatus.

“Well?” Pepper asked.

“Shut up.  I’m thinking.”  Tony turned and directed the light from his phone onto the bar.  There were some screws that would be easy to take out, but they were in the push panel at the hinge end of the door… he’d need to reach inside somehow.  “Okay,” he said, standing up again.  “There’s gotta be some tools in that basement, right?  I need a screwdriver.”

“Is this a good idea?” asked Pepper.

“I won the Pym Prize for Robotics last month!” Tony reminded her.  “My picture was on the cover of the school newspaper, and you don’t trust me with a screwdriver?”

She threw up her hands.  “Okay, okay!  Do your genius thing!”

Tony checked the battery on his own phone.  With the flashlight on it was draining fast.  If they didn’t want to be in here with no light but the EXIT signs, he was going to have to find another source of illumination.  “And a proper flashlight,” he decided.

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all evening,” said Pepper, and followed him down the steps.

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Pepper realized she was being mean and snappish, but she couldn’t help it.  How was she supposed to feel when they were locked in a basement?  They couldn’t just stay here all night.  What about dinner?  Her stomach was already growling.  She’d been ignoring it earlier because she had wanted to show that she was willing to work.  Where would they sleep?  There was nothing soft down here to lie on.  And good lord, what was going to happen when one of them needed to pee?

All that nervous energy had to go somewhere and the only possible target was Stark – and he was doubly convenient in that capacity because this was his fault.  He’d noticed the time passing while she had not.  He couldn’t have said something.  If he’d spoken up, they could have decided it was time to go and done so, but he hadn’t, the staff had forgotten about them, and now they were stuck down here!

Back at the bottom of the stairs, Stark located a janitor’s closet.  This seemed a good place to start looking for emergency supplies – there was a first aid kit and a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall, and on a shelf above them he found a utility flashlight.  He gave the latter to Pepper, and had her hold it while he rooted around inside a cupboard, looking for something else.

“What are you doing now?” she asked.

“I’m looking for tools,” he replied.  “A screwdriver.  A hammer.  Something. I’m gonna take the door apart and open the lock from the inside… and don’t ask me if I can do that,” he added, pulling his head out of the cupboard to look straight at her.  “I told you, I’m a genius.  I can figure it out.”

Pepper sniffed.  She would wait and see how he did at getting them out of the basement, but she knew one thing for certain.  “You may be a genius, but talking about it all the time still makes you sound like a jerk.  Why do you care so much that people know how smart you are?”

“Because it’s important!” said Tony, going back to his rooting around.  “Fine, I admit it: yes, I want people to know I’m smart, okay?  I’m proud of it.  Why shouldn’t I be?”

“It’s fine to be proud, but if you go around talking about it, you’re bragging,” Pepper said to his butt, which was the only part of him she could see.  “What happened to humility?”

“False humility is just another kind of lying,” he said.

“It’s polite,” Pepper insisted.  “You don’t see me go around bragging.  I could be standing here going, oh, they gave me this job because nobody else wants to do it so I’m going to be awesome at it just to show them.”

This time, he actually wiggled back out of the cupboard and sat up, frowning at her in evident confusion.  “Is that really what you’re proudest of?” he asked.  “That you’re willing to do crappy jobs?”

“I’m willing to do them well,” Pepper clarified. “The people who left all those three-year-old calendars in the box sure didn’t do a very good job of it.  Just because nobody wants to do something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it properly.  I’m a Hufflepuff,” she said firmly.  “I believe in doing things right.”

“Yeah, but that seems like a weird thing to brag about,” he insisted.

“I just said I don’t brag about it,” huffed Pepper.

“No, I mean, it’s a weird example of a thing you might brag about,” Stark said.  “Most people would say something like, I’m good at math, or I  can beat a new video game faster than anybody I know, or I’ve won prizes for my robots.  Your thing is doing terrible jobs?”

His mention to the robotics prize made Pepper wonder if all three of his examples were things he personally considered himself amazing at.  “No, they wouldn’t say that, because most people don’t go around bragging.”

“If you asked them,” Stark said, frowning in frustration.  “If you go up to somebody and ask them what are you best at they’ll always tell you something!  Like, my friend Rhodey is really good at building model airplanes.  He’ll tell you all about how he changed them to be more accurate than they were on the box.  Or there’s Janet from my physics class who’s really good at her fashion Instagram.  What’s your ‘thing’?”

Pepper winced, wishing now she’d never spoken. Everybody had a ‘thing’, didn’t they? Something they were really into. With Jane it was astronomy – everyone knew she’d been accepted to Culver for astrophysics and she could take you out on a dark night and show you three planets, nine constellations, and tell you about how people could figure out the date of supernovas from tree rings. Pepper never understood half of what she said.  With Natasha it was ballet and gymnastics, and the phys. ed teachers said she’d probably be in the Olympics someday.  Pepper was madly jealous of both of them for having something they were so good at and so passionate about… because she didn’t.

She was silent for a moment – and her very hesitation must have told Stark all he needed to know.  “Oh, come on, you must be good at something,” he said.  “How about art?”

Pepper shrugged awkwardly.  “I like art, but I can’t do it.  I took art in freshman year but I wasn’t any good at it. I never felt inspired.  I’m more interested in the history than in actually doing it, but that’s not really… not really something you can make a career out of.  I guess I could be a museum curator, but…”  She looked around the dark room, with that unsettling statue still looming in a corner of it.  “A museum doesn’t sound like a great place to work right now.”

“I hear that,” Stark grumbled.

“I’m gonna do accounting in college,” she went on, “because I’ll be able to get a good job that way.  I get decent grades in math, but they’re not any better than the grades I get in anything else.  My Dad was always one of those if you put your mind to it you can do anything people, and he’s right, because I can do a lot of things well but there’s not really anything I’d say I’m good at.”

Pepper stopped there, because… why had she told him that?  It wasn’t something she ever discussed, even with her friends or family.  They wouldn’t understand.  All of them had a ‘thing’, but Pepper was just… Pepper. She worked hard because if she couldn’t be good at something, she wanted to be decent at as many things as she could. Jill of all trades, mistress of none.

Stark was looking at her like he didn’t know what she was talking about.  He probably didn’t.  If he was so damn smart, he was probably good at everything and couldn’t imagine what mediocrity was possibly like.  What would he know about insecurity?

“Look, just find your tools and get us out of here,” said Pepper.

He crawled back into the cupboard, while she knelt down to shine the flashlight over his shoulder.  After a minute or two of sorting around amid cleaning supplies and a set of wrenches, he sat up triumphantly.  “Aha!” he exclaimed, holding high a beat-up screwdriver with an orange handle.

“Finally!” said Pepper.  “Let’s go!”

They returned to the main floor and Pepper continued to hold the flashlight while Stark knelt down to turn the screws.  He tried for a few moments, then stopped and muttered a bad word under his breath.

“Now what’s wrong?” Pepper asked.  She could feel her stomach sinking again.

“It’s a Phillips,” said Stark.

“What’s that?” Pepper wanted to know.

“It’s a Phillips head screwdriver!”  He pointed it at her like a magic wand.  “The screws are all flat heads!”

“Can’t you still use it?” she asked.  Pepper admittedly knew very little about tools but she had assembled furniture with her parents, and she was sure her father had once said she could still use a particular screwdriver even if it was the wrong shape.

Stark appeared to disagree – he tossed the screwdriver back down the stairs, and she could hear it clink as it bounced off the concrete steps.  “No. You could use a flat head screwdriver in a Phillips screw, but not the other way around.”

“The Phillips… is that the one with the plus, and the flat head is the one with the minus?” she asked.

“Yeah.”  Stark sat there for a moment, then examined the screws again.  “You got a dime?”

“Nobody carries cash in New York,” Pepper scoffed. She thought for a moment, herself, and then unzipped her backpack and started sorting through it, looking for her keys.  “Here!” She pulled them out.  “I have nail clippers on my keychain!”

“So what?” he asked, annoyed.

“So they have a flat end!”  She took them off the loop and lifted the lever to show him. “Will that fit in the screws?”

Stark blinked, then snatched them out of her hand, grinning.  “You’re a genius!” he said, and turned around to start removing screws.

“Oh, like you?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Maybe not quite like me,” he said, but he glanced back over his shoulder to smile at her, and something inside Pepper gave an involuntarily little flutter.  Stark was clearly joking, but when he’d said you’re a genius, it had sounded so sincere and spontaneous she couldn’t help but think he meant it.

“There we go!” Stark dropped one screw on the floor, then removed another, and took the entire bar off the door.  “Shine the light in here, would you?”

Pepper directed the beam over his shoulder, while he first peered in and then reached to feel around.  For a moment he frowned, and Pepper started getting worried again, but this time he seemed to figure out a solution quickly.

“Another equipment run!” he declared.  “I know I saw wire cutters in there… I need a coat hanger.  I’m gonna snip a length of it so I can manipulate the lock from the inside.”

“There were coat hangers in the junk room!” said Pepper. “They had a box of souvenir sweatshirts that were already on them inside the plastic!”

She pulled open one such packet, and Stark cut himself a length of wire about six inches long.  Pepper was starting to feel quite pleased with their collective problem-solving abilities.  Stark could find, or at least make, whatever tools they needed, and Pepper had a good memory and could tell him where to find things.  When they returned to the door, Stark stuck his makeshift lock pick into it, his hand disappearing into the bar mechanism right up to the wrist, and within a few second there was a clunking sound, and the door creaked open. The light that flooded in was faint, just the evening glow of the city and the fading November sky reflecting off the white walls and tile floors of the lobby, but Pepper was so happy to see it, she almost cried.

“Ta-da!” said Stark proudly.  There was a clink from inside the bar as he dropped the piece of wire.  “There we… ow!” he exclaimed, and quickly yanked his arm out… or tried to. Something clearly went wrong, because he stopped short and howled!

Pepper almost dropped the flashlight. What?  What happened?” she asked.  Her imagination offered up horrible possibilities.  Maybe there was a mouse or a spider or something in there. Maybe he was going to need her to suck the venom out.  Maybe she wouldn’t be able to do it, and she would be known as the girl who let Tony Stark die…

“I’m stuck!  I’m caught on…” he gritted his teeth and swore again.  “I’m caught on… I think I stabbed myself.”

Pepper felt herself go cold.  She set the flashlight down on the floor so that its beam would still illuminate him.  “Okay, well, don’t panic,” she said.

“Don’t panic?  You’re the one who screamed because you thought the statue was Mothman!” he pointed out.

“Only for a moment!  When you’re hurt,” she explained, “you shouldn’t panic because it’ll only make you freak out and do more damage.  Now, take a deep breath.”

He breathed in, hard.

“Let it out,” said Pepper.

It came out in a woosh.

“Now tell me what happened.”

Stark grimaced in pain.  “I dropped the coat hanger wire,” he said, “and I think it got caught on something.  When I tried to pull my arm out it poked me, and when I tried to yank it out fast it went in really deep and I think I’m actually sort of impaled right now.”

In the dim light, Pepper couldn’t see his face very well, but he sounded like he was on the verge of passing out.  She thought fast – if he did that, he would go limp, and the weight of his body would pull on that arm, and if what he’d just said was accurate, that could make things much worse.

“Okay,” she said.  “Can you back your arm up so it comes out?”

He tried.  “I don’t think so.  The bar isn’t long enough.”  Stark looked at her hands, held up in front of her as she tried to reassure him. “You’ve got small hands.  You think you can reach in there and move it?”

“I’ll try,” said Pepper.  She took off her cardigan and examined the situation… how would she do this?  Stark was right up against the door and couldn’t exactly move over to give her space. She was going to have to practically sit in his lap.  “Don’t get any ideas,” she said, moving into place.

He snorted.  “I’ve got my arm stuck in a door!  Getting ideas is about the last thing on my mind.”

She settled down, sitting on his knee, and wiggled her fingers in around his arm.  Immediately she felt something wet and sticky.  She pulled her hand back and held it in the flashlight beam, and was horrified to see the red on her fingers.  “Oohhh,” she said.

“What?”  Stark looked over her shoulder.  “Oh, no. You’re not gonna faint, are you?”

“I don’t know if I’m the best person to do this,” said Pepper.  She almost stuck the fingers in her mouth, but that wasn’t a good idea when it wasn’t her blood.  She couldn’t wipe it on her clothes, either, it might stain.  How much more blood would there be if she managed to pull the wire out?

“There’s nobody else here!” he protested.  “That’s the whole problem, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” Pepper said helplessly, and stopped there because he was right.  It was just him and her.  Like sorting the garbage downstairs, it was a terrible job but nobody else was going to do it.  It was up to Pepper.

“Right.”  She tried to wipe her fingers on the floor, which didn’t work very well, then took a deep breath and tried again.  Stark’s chin was on her shoulder watching as she stuck her fingers in between his flesh and the edge of the opening, feeling around for the problem.  She could follow the piece of wire for about two and a half inches, the length of her thumb and index finger, and then had to stop. There just wasn’t room to fit the rest of her hand inside and go any further.

“Don’t tug on it,” said Stark weakly.  “It’s definitely under the skin.”

“That’s so disgusting,” she whimpered.  The blood had been pretty awful, but she could handle it. The phrase under the skin, however, was horrible.  Pepper hated things like needles and IV lines.

“Can you get it out?” he asked.

“No,” was Pepper’s immediate reply.  “That’s as far as my fingers will go.  I’m gonna see if I can find the other end.”  She felt her way back, trying to ignore the feeling of warm, damp blood between her fingers.  The other end of the bit of coat hanger turned out to be stuck under a lip of metal at the edge of the piece next to the one Stark had removed.  She tried to pick at it with her fingernails, to no effect. “I can’t.  It’s stuck.”

Pepper wanted to pull her hand back, but realized if she did, it might be covered with blood.  For a moment, she didn’t move.

“Okay,” Stark said in her ear.  “If pulling it out won’t work, can we push it a little further in?”

“What?” Pepper asked.  “No, I’m not going to do that!  I wouldn’t do it even if I could!”

“I didn’t mean into my arm, I meant into the space!” said Stark.  “I’ll push my arm in as far as I can, and you see if you can get the other end loose and hold it there so I can get out without it getting stuck again, okay?”

“I can’t do that!” she insisted.  “What if it pierces something major and you bleed to death?” There was already enough blood on her. The idea of more made her feel ill.

“You won’t if you’re careful,” he said.  “Even if you do, I don’t think there’s any major blood vessels in that part of an arm.”

“You don’t think there are?  You mean you don’t know if there are?  I thought you were a genius!”

“That doesn’t make me an encyclopedia!” he protested. “Being smart doesn’t mean I know everything.  Intelligence is a stat – knowledge is a skill!  You have to roll a check for it!”

“What?” Pepper asked.  The statement made no sense whatsoever for the first few moments, until she realized what he was talking about.  “Is… was that a Dungeons and Dragons joke?”  His arm was impaled on part of a metal coat hanger, and he was joking?

“Yes!  I’m trying to distract us,” Stark said.  “Just do it, okay?  Stop thinking about it.  The faster it gets done, the faster it’ll be over with and we can both get out of here.”

“Right.”  Pepper took several breaths in and out, the way she’d told him to do only a few minutes earlier.  “Keep distracting me,” she said.

“How?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  Tell me about… tell me about your parents.”  It was the first thing that occurred to her.  She worked her fingers further into the space, to press the piece of wire against his skin.

Stark snorted.  “What’s to tell?  My Dad’s the smartest guy in the world and nothing I do is ever good enough for him. Have you got it?”

“I hope so,” she replied.  “I thought you said you were a genius.”

“I am a genius, just not as much of a genius as he is,” said Stark.  He moved his arm a little further, but it wasn’t enough for the wire to come loose.

“Keep going,” said Pepper.

“No matter what I do,” Stark went on, “he’s like, oh, I did that when I was younger than you, and I didn’t have all this money or this fancy edu…” he hissed through his teeth as something hurt, and Pepper began to ease off the pressure she was putting on his arm.  “No, hold it there!” he said.  “All this fancy education.  I didn’t even… oh shit… I didn’t even tell him I won that prize or that I was on the cover of the school newspaper, because he wouldn’t have… oh shit… wouldn’t have cared…”

“Am I hurting you?” Pepper asked.  The end was still, just barely, under the lip.

“No, it just hurts!” he said.  He moved a little further.

It was only a fraction of an inch, but it was enough. Pepper felt the end of the wire come free, and held it as tightly against his arm as she could.  “I got it!  Pull it out now!”

He yanked his arm out of the bar.  The door, now free to swing, fell open and dumped both young people onto the lobby floor.

Pepper held up her hands.  The lobby was semi-dark, but there was enough light to see that her fingers were smeared with blood.  It was getting sticky as it began to dry, and the metallic scent stung in her nostrils.  Her stomach lurched.

“Oh, man,” said Stark.

She knew she didn’t want to see his injury, but she turned and looked anyway.  It wasn’t as bad as she was picturing.  The end of the piece was very sharp, but it was only under perhaps half an inch of skin and so close to the surface that the dark metal was visible through the translucent layer of tissue.  It was still horrible to look at, but impaled was an exaggeration.

“I gotta… I gotta…” Stark stammered.

“Lie down!”  Pepper pushed him onto the floor.  “Don’t you dare pass out on me.  Wait right here, and I’ll be back.”

She ran back down the steps and grabbed the first aid kit out of the janitor’s closet.  When she got back, she found Stark lying there with one cheek on the cold tile, but his eyes were wide and he was still very much conscious.

“I’m gonna pull it out,” she told him.

“Tie something around my arm first, so it doesn’t bleed too much,” said Stark.

“Got it.  I think that’s what this is for.”  Pepper pulled out a stretchy strap and tied it around his arm above the injury. “There… now like I said, keep talking. Your Dad isn’t impressed by you. Is that why you want everybody at school to know you’re a genius?”  Honestly… it would explain an awful lot.

“I guess,” said Stark.  “I didn’t think about it that way, but… yeah, probably.  It’s nice to be able to brag a little without him telling me how much better he could have done it, you know?  He actually wanted to send me to boarding school. Mom talked him out of it, but he just wanted to get rid of me.”

Pepper nodded.  “You ready?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

“Me, neither,” she admitted.  With her left hand she held his, while gripping the wire with her right.  Should she pull fast or slow?  If she were doing this to herself she would have done it at slowly as possible, probably crying the whole time, but this wasn’t for herself… so she decided to just yank.  She held on tight so it wouldn’t just slide through her fingers, and pulled.

It came right out.  Pepper tossed the wire aside and grabbed a wad of gauze out of the kit to press against the wound.  “How’s that?” she asked.

“Way better,” said Stark weakly.  “I don’t think I could have done that myself.”

“That’s my thing,” Pepper said, her voice shaking. “I do stuff nobody else is willing to do.”

“You sure do,” he agreed.  “That’s a really great thing to be good at.  Go ahead and brag about it, okay?”

Pepper of couldn’t wouldn’t do any such thing, but she nodded, giggling a little in relief.

“What the hell is going on here?” demanded a voice.

A light was suddenly in their faces.  Pepper shrieked and grabbed Stark, as he hollered and grabbed her back.  Both of them looked up, and then relaxed again as they realized it was just a museum security guard.  He was a tall white man with a shaved head and a mustache, staring at them both in horror.

“Who are you two?” he asked.

Pepper couldn’t help it – she started giggling again. “We’re the kids from Triskelion High!” she managed in between bouts of laughter.  “We were sorting the stuff in the basement, and they forgot about us and locked us in!”

“Why are you covered in blood?” the guard asked, aghast.

Pepper looked down – she’d now gotten blood from her hands all over Stark’s shirt where she’d grabbed him, and he’d smeared it on her arm.  He was also now wiping his face, which got more blood on his cheeks and forehead, but whether because Pepper was setting him off or just because he was relieved, too, he was also laughing.

“I cut myself trying to take the door apart,” he said. “She helped me get unstuck.”

“Why didn’t you call 911?” the guard demanded.

Pepper blinked.  That was a good question – why hadn’t they?  They could have done that before they even started trying to open the door. They definitely could have done it when Stark first got his arm stuck.  Pepper’s phone had been dead, but Stark’s had some time left on it.  It just hadn’t occurred to either of them.

Stark laughed louder.  “Yeah, why didn’t we do that?”

“I don’t know!”  Pepper said.  “So much for being geniuses!”

“We’re idiots!” he agreed.

💘 - 💝 - 💌 - 💝 - 💘

The security guard was not laughing.  He dialed 911 himself, and summoned the janitorial staff to repair the door and clean the blood off it and the tiles.  When the ambulance arrived – along with someone who had the front door key to let them out – the EMTs bundled Tony into the back for inspection.  Since it was a chilly evening, they let Pepper sit inside with him while they slathered disinfectants on his arm.

“Are you put to date on your tetanus shots?” one woman asked him.

“Yes, absolutely,” said Tony.  “I work with metal all the time, so I keep an eye on that.”

She nodded.  “You said your parents are in Austria.  Who is your emergency contact?”

“Mr. Jarvis, my Dad’s old butler.  I’ll give you the number.”

The medic went to make the phone call, and Tony looked up at Pepper, sitting next to him.  He smiled at her, and was gratified to see her smiling back.  Apparently she… well, she obviously didn’t dislike him anymore.  He’d take that.

“I have a confession to make,” he said.

“Oh, really?”  Her thin ginger eyebrows roses.

“Well, you’re sitting there with my blood on your shirt, I figure you deserve the truth,” Tony said.  “I don’t know anything about art.  At least, I didn’t before last week.  Mr. Coulson said he thought the reason you were upset was because you didn’t think I knew anything about it, and I decided to prove you wrong, so I did a bunch of research.”

“To impress me?” asked Pepper.  “You didn’t even know me!”

“Well, as we established, I do kinda care what people think of me,” said Tony.

She shrugged.  “If my Dad thought I couldn’t do anything right, I’d probably want everybody at school to think I’m a genius, too.”

“I bet everybody at school does think you’re a genius, if you work at everything as hard as you worked at sorting that garbage.”

“Then I’ve fooled them all,” she sighed.

Tony gave her another smile.  “No fooling me,” he said, “you’re awesome.  Maybe not as much of a genius as I am, but not every girl would get covered in blood to help you get your arm out of a door.”

Pepper shook her head.  “Never ask me to do anything like that ever again, okay?” she said.  “Next week, you tell me when it’s six o’clock!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Tony.

A car horn honked outside, and the EMT peeked back in. “Miss Potts?” she said.  “Your parents are here.”

“Tell them I’m coming!”  Pepper stood up and grabbed her backpack.  “See you next week, Stark.”

“Maybe sooner,” said Tony.  “We both go to the same school, after all.”

“Yeah, we do,” she agreed.  “Maybe sooner, then.”

He reached out and took her hand, and pulled her a bit closer for a kiss.  She ducked out of it.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, pulling her arm free. “I know what you’re like with girls!”

“Do you?”  Tony asked.  “You don’t know me, remember?  Give me a chance!”

“Pepper!” a voice called from outside.

“Please?”  He pouted and showed her his best puppy dog expression... the one that always worked on Mrs. Jarvis.

She hesitated a moment, then smiled. “Maybe.  See you on Monday, Tony,” and leaned back down.  She only kissed his cheek, and then she was gone in a hurry, her cheeks flushed as she ran off to meet her parents at the car.  Tony, however, was grinning as he watched her go. As evenings when he’d nearly stabbed himself went, that one hadn’t been too bad at all.

[a-simple-imagine]

Day 1 - The Great Candy Cane Disaster

synopsis: Malfoy gets you in trouble so you decide to get back at him but things go a little too far

pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (if you squint)

Words: 2.6k+

A/n -  We’re kicking off the first day of my advent calendar with something centered around Draco Malfoy.

Warnings - Swearing

"They look ridiculous," Malfoy muses as you add the final ingredient to your forgetfulness potion.

"They look fine," You roll your eyes, utterly fed up with the boy. Sometimes you wished he'd simply keep his comments to himself. "I wanted to look festive but I have to wear my uniform so antlers were the next best thing."

"They look stupid," He repeats. You adjust the reindeer antlers that sit upon your head like a silent protest.

"Will you just try the potion please?"

"No, why don't you do it?" He bites back, you swear he's being difficult on purpose just to get under your skin. When it came to potions class, you often found yourself paired with Malfoy. On the odd occasions, he was relatively helpful but sometimes he was the exact opposite.

"I did most of the work so you have to try it." You risk pushing the potion cauldron a little, watching the liquid inside almost swish over the edge; that would be the last thing you need in Snape's class.

"I do hope that amongst all this arguing, you managed to finish your potion." Snape's dull voice ringed in your ear."

"Of course Professor," Malfoy recites as professor Snape approaches your table. "she was just about to test it out."

You want to protest but you know better. It's probably just land you in trouble, so you reluctantly pick up a glass vile "fine," and plunge it into the orange potion. You take the smallest of sips. "So, Uh... what were we talking about again?"

"Next time, you two should refrain from shouting across my classroom"

"Yes Professor," you both reply.

"Five points from Gryffindor."

"Wait why?" You question quickly, brows furrowed.

"Careful now, or I'll make it ten." You can hear Malfoy's little snicker beside you as you watch Snape walk away to inspect somebody else's work.

By the time lunch came around, you were utterly fed up with the day. Slumping down at the Gryffindor table, you let out a dramatic sigh suggesting you wanted someone to ask what was wrong. Nobody did. So you sigh again.

"I can't believe you lost us house points," Hermione scolds as if she hasn't done it before. It wasn't a big deal. "why can't you be more responsible."

"You try being partners with Malfoy," you grumble, as you take a couple of sandwiches and place them on your plate. "And besides, Snape was totally unfair."

"Honestly, everyone knows Snape favours Slytherin so you have to be more careful." Hermione was right about that. It was clear Snape favoured his own house and was especially harsh when it came to Gryffindors. Why he hated you so much was unclear but it was something you had come to terms with.

"Gosh it was only ten points, it's not the end of the world Hermione." You take a bite of your sandwich. "Enough about that- I need your help."

"With what?" She asks, bringing her goblet of juice to her lips.

"Learning the duplication spell? It never seems to work for me."

"Why?"

You simply shrug. "If I knew why, I wouldn't ask for help,"

"No- I mean why do you want help with it? You never normally want to study outside of class."

You'd laugh if it wasn't true. Studying, for the most part, wasn't your favourite thing to do and much like Ron, you tended to avoid it as much as possible. You were by no means a bad student, just not as good as Hermione for example. "You're always telling me I should get ahead of my studies and not leave everything to the last minute, Hermione, I'm just trying to be a good student."

For a moment, you think she's seen through your lie but she just smiles a little before pushing her plate to the middle of the table. "Fine. I have to head to the library and get a few books but I'll meet you in the common room later and we can go over it."

"Great," and with that Hermione leaves you with the boys to finish up lunch.

"So tell the truth then," Ron perks up, his mouth full of food.

"Huh?"

"We all know you're not suddenly a model student," he continues. "so why do you suddenly want help with a spell?"

"People can change, Ronald." Hermione always called him that.

"I don't believe that for a minute,"

"Ron's right," Harry agreed. "You once said you wouldn't be caught dead in the library. That doesn't sound like model student behaviour."

"Blasphemy," You state dramatically slapping your hand against the table.

Ron chuckles a little. "Tell us. We won't tell Hermione."

"Fine," You could trust them enough not to keep your secret; they'd proven that value before. "I want to enchant an object and give it to Malfoy."

"Hermione isn't going to like that you're using a spell to get back at Malfoy-" Ron warns with the most playful of smiles. "I can't wait to tell her."

"You just said you wouldn't," you huff, tossing a piece of bread in Ron's direction. "It's just a harmless prank."

"He's messing with you," Harry adds.

"Malfoy's leaving- I'll be right back," you jump up sharply. "Don't head back without me."

Charging over to the Slytherin table, you find Pansy just as she's finishing up. "Great, what do you want?"

"So volatile," you tease. "I need a favour."

"Ha! that's likely," Pansy Parkinson was not your friend. Everyone knew that. In fact, she actively chose to hate on you every moment she got. You liked to think it was just a complicated relationship with one of the biggest bullies in school.

"Can we... talk in private,"

Taking her arm, you drag her out of the great hall as she struggles in your grip. "What do you want?"

"A favour." You repeat. You need Pansy on board or your plan wouldn't work. You weren't close enough to Malfoy, nor did you have access to the Slytherin common room. Pansy did and she was not against breaking the rules.

"Tough luck," she spits, turning sharply on her heel but you reach out to grab her before she can leave.

"Please Pansy,"

"What's in it for me?"

Uh... you hadn't planned that far ahead. "My love and friendship?"

She chokes out a laugh. "Pass."

"Fine, I'll do whatever you want,"

"Whatever I want?" The was a degree of intrigue in her voice as she turned back around that made you worry about her upcoming demand.

"I mean... I'm not gonna like murder someone but you get the idea."

"Do all my Christmas break homework?"

"You can't be serious?" You got enough homework on an average day never mind during the holidays. It was like the professors deliberately didn't want you to have fun. "We've already been set like two essays and-"

"Take it or leave it," she interrupts, a malicious grin graced her beautiful features.

You groan loudly. You didn't really have much choice and she was holding all the cards here. "Fine- okay, I'll do al your homework."

"So, what do you want me to do then?" She wonders, pulling out of your grip.

"I need you to sneak me into the Slytherin common room."

"Is that all?" She raises a brow. "That's easy enough- When?"

"Couple days. I have to prepare first."

"Kay-" Without another word, Pansy turns on her heel and enters the great hall. Guess the conversation was over then. You may now be lumbered with way more homework than you cared to think about but at least she agreed. Heading back to the table, Ron is somehow still eating.

"What was that about?" Harry questions before you can even sit back down.

"Since when you and Parkinson friends?" Ron adds.

"We're not. I'm pretty sure she hates me." You shrug, finishing off your drink. "I needed her help but I had to wait until Malfoy wasn't around"

"Sounds like more effort than it's worth." Ron was more right then he would ever know.

"We should go. We have charms soon."

Classes were relatively easier towards the end of the year excluding any tests but the days still felt way too long. That evening you're sat on the floor beside the roaring reds and oranges of the fire. Hermione is sat across from you with a neat stack of papers and an array of books. Ron and Harry are chatting on the couch just within earshot.

"No offence, Hermione but why do I have to know the entire history of the spell to use it?"

"You wanted my help, didn't you?"

You sigh softly listening to her entire lecture with forged interest. When she's finally stopped telling you about the twins who created the spell, she placed a small leather-bound book on the floor between you; pulling out her wand. "Before you begin, you want to be sure of exactly how many copies you wish to make otherwise it can become uncontrollable," Hermione explains. "Only the caster can stop the uncontrollable duplication." Waving her wand she gently tapped the book. "Geminio." The book shook a little before splitting into two identical books side by side.

"And this spell works on anything?"

"To a degree. Keep in mind while they are identical, the other copy is considered worthless as after a while it'll start to degrade. So you give it a try,"

You pull out your wand and with a flick. "Geminio." Nothing happened. So you try again.

"juh-MIN-ee-oh," Hermione corrects your pronunciation slowly. "And don't flourish your wand so much. Just a smooth and simple flick," she readies her wand and flicks. "Geminio."

The book splits into another. Show off.

You flick your wand "Geminio." Again nothing happens.

"You're not very good at this," Ron teases from the side.

Hermione takes your wand hand in hers. "Let's try together, okay, ready?" You nod a little. Hermione guides your hand. "Geminio." You both say together and this time the book splits. You smile brightly.

"It worked!"

"Good job."

"Now I can put my plan in motion."

"What plan? I thought you just wanted help with your studies?"

"Oh- yes, that's what I meant." Her eyes narrow in and you offer an innocent smile. "Well, I'm off to bed- Good night."

It's a couple of days before you decide to finally get back at Malfoy. That time was mostly spent in classes and practising the spell. While everyone else is distracted having dinner, you follow Pansy through the halls of Hogwarts and down to the dungeons.

"So why are you doing this?" She asks but she doesn't sound too interested in an actual answer.

"Malfoy got me in trouble and I wish to share the Christmas spirit."

"By giving him... a candy cane?"

"Yeah," Your smile brightens. "Candy canes are the perfect Christmas treat. He has to be the one to touch it okay? No one else or it'll ruin it."

"Weird." She seems suspicious. "But fine. You're still doing all my homework."

"Yes. I know." You roll your eyes. Every time you've spoken to her in the past few days she's mentioned her homework. Stepping into the Slytherin common room felt weird; you don't know what you were expecting it to look like. You guess you just imagined them all to look the same but in different colours however, that was certainly not the case. It was... darker in here somewhat creepier.

"Then I'll make sure he's the one to get it."

"Promise?"

"Just leave before I call Snape."

"Alright, alright, Thanks for this."

Sneaking out the Slytherin common room, you head back to the great hall as if nothing had happened. Joining Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

"Where have you been?" Hermione quickly asks and your mind draws a blank.

"Huh- oh! I wasn't hungry but now I am- So what did I miss?"

"Nothing really," Harry shrugs.

"Hermione was lecturing us," Ron follows up.

"Sounds about right," you chuckle.

It's hard to pay attention as you wait for Malfoy to finish his dinner. Staring intensely at the Slytherin table; only catching bits and pieces of the conversation happening around you. When you notice Malfoy leaving, you sit up a little straighter.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione clicks before your eyes, drawing your attention back.

"...nothing,"

"Do you fancy Malfoy or something?"

"What?" You turn to her, completely shocked and sort of offended. You and Malfoy would be a... weird combination to say the least. "No. Don't be silly."

"You have been staring at him since sitting down," Ron adds, a smirk on his lips. He knew exactly why you were distracted so his comment was just to rile you up.

"I don't fancy him- shut up." You growl back. "I'm heading back to the common room."

"I think I'll come too," Hermione stated, clearing up the almost none existent mess she had made. LI wanna do a little reading before bed."

You offer a small smile. If you say no, she'll be suspicious so you kind of just have to go along with it. Harry and Ron end up joining you. The halls are pretty empty as the four of you head back, it was still pretty early to be fair. You're idly chatting away to Hermione when you hear your name echo through the hallway. While taking note of it, you choose to ignore it and continue walking but then it happens again. Louder this time. You grab Hermione and Ron, by the wrists and pull them a little faster. "Hurry up,"

"What why?" Hermione protests pulling out of your grip.

"Because."

"Stop!" You know the voice belongs to Malfoy; it's hard to miss. When you finally turn around to look, you see him charging towards you looking very angry. "What can I do for you Malfoy?" You ask innocently, putting on your best smile but he doesn't stop. You back up until you're against a wall and he is standing before you. It doesn't seem like the time but still, you reach up and pull a candy cane that seems to be stuck to his best. "Didn't know you liked candy canes so much. Saving this one for later were we?"

He doesn't see the funny side. "I know it was you,"

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Leave her alone, Malfoy." Hermione defends, walking up behind him.

"Yeah shove off," Ron growls.

"You're not funny," the Slytherin snaps, taking a step back and taking your wrist. "You either come with me or I tell Snape that you filled the room with candy canes."

"How could I do that? I can't even get in the Slytherin common room."

"Your name was on the card."

"Is that why you wanted to learn the Geminio charm?" Busted.

"I used the Geminio spell on a candy cane so when Malfoy picked it up, they would start multiplying." You admit.

"We can't get it to stop."

"How is that my problem," you protest as he tries to drag you along with him.

"Did you remember to set an amount?"

"Uh... I knew I forgot something."

As much as you struggle you do end up going with Draco. He doesn’t say anything the entire way but his grip suggests that he's still very angry and as the door opens and some candy canes spill out, you realise you may have gone a little too far. You had originally expected a hundred copies or so but this was way more and they didn't seem to be stopping as they spilt out onto the corridor.

"Well... Shit. Probably should have brought Hermione with us."

[turtletimewriting]

TickleTober Day 2: Feathers

Summary: Patton has made it his mission to test different tools against the others.

Note: Platonic or romantic, either way! This is a tickle fic if you didn’t know! Ler Patton and literally Lee everyone else (includes Deceit and Remus).

_._._

This was all Logan’s fault. He had just joked that they should test which tools were most effective against each of them. It was merely mentioned once. Only to tease Roman who he knew was very tool sensitive. Yet, here they were. The thought had never left Patton’s mind since hearing it. Logan probably didn’t even remember saying it. But the inner tickle monster and the renowned most teasiest tickler couldn’t let it go. The ler mood had been simmering since. And now, it was all boiling over. 

Now he was doing Logan proud and had even come up with a plan.

Patton was merely dusting around the mindscape. A very normal activity to do. Cleaning is very important. Setting a good example for Thomas. That was his excuse. He had never dusted the mindscape ever before. And he was hoping that someone (his plan predicted that it would be Logan) who would point it out first. 

And here Logan came now. 

“Patton? Are you... dusting?” He frowned before continuing to grab himself a drink. Completely missing Patton’s stilted turn and him raising the feather duster. He tip toed one step closer. Arms drawn up like the monster he was. 

“Yes, I thought that everyone could be spruced up...” He crept closer to his turned back. His manic grin stretching just that bit further. Logan merely focused his attention on filling the glass, completely missing Patton’s deliberate wording of ‘everyone’ rather than everything. He set it down and finally looked back. 

Patton lurched forward. 

“Patton! Wha-what are you doing?!” Logan shrieked. Patton knocked him down to lay on his back. Patton sat perched on his hips. One of his hands clutched Logan’s forearms. His arms pinned above his head. Completely trapped. A feather duster clasped in Patton’s grip, pointed at him. 

“Sprucing up the place! You’ve been stuck up in your room for too long! Leaning over your desk...” Patton sang as he kept his eyes stuck on his own actions. It was more awkward than he thought to pluck one feather from the duster but he smirked once he felt a long fluffy plume come loose. “You’ve collected dust yourself! It's just a spring clean! A quick feathery cleaning! It shouldn’t tickle that bad...”

“Wait wait wait! I um... feathers won’t work! Also! People cannot get dusty. Wait! I move enough!” Logan stuttered before turning into high pitched shrieking, but Patton grew bored. Sounded too sciency. Time for his own science experiment. 

Using the fluffy end of the feather, he pushed the polo sleeve down. He then crept the feather closer to Logan’s armpit, making sure to go slowly and carefully ignoring Logan’s pleas. Twirling it slowly. Logan’s voice rang higher and higher. It slowly danced down his sleeve to Patton’s target. Then the feather touched down and instantly started flicking up and down. 

“PAAAAA! PATAAAHAHAHAAH PAT! PAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan exploded. His head started thrashing from side to side. But his arms merely flexed rather than tried to break free. 

“Aw Logan! Too much build up? I’ve never heard you laugh so loud!” Patton smiled but his surprise was genuine. Logan was bellowing out loud belly laughs. It was only a feather. He’d never been particularly tool sensitive before... but he famously couldn’t handle build up. 

“PAHAHAHATTON! HAHAHAHAHA! HA!” He realised a guttural snort and felt his face warm over, “It HAHAHA HA HEHE hah it tic- hehhahahahaha! It tickles!”

“What tickles? I don’t see anything that could tickle! Just a giggly Logan getting nice and clean and free from dust!” 

Patton merely kept swirling the feather all around. The tip flickering in the centre of the pit to the length of the feather teasing the pit and also the side of his ribs at the same time. His laughter was slowing down, the anticipation cooling down. But he was definitely laughing harder than giggles. All being noted by Patton- if Logan could pay any attention he’d be so proud of his experiment and note taking! 

“Should we be fair? There’s no use only cleaning one side! Shall we go to the other side now? Oh but what if I’ve missed a spot here?” Patton cooed and stopped the feather. The tip resting right in the middle. 

“NO! Noohohohohohahahahahaaaaa! AAAAH! Patton!” Logan cried out. Even his laughter moved him enough that it felt like the feather was brushing up and down. Up and down. Just that tiny tip smoothing along his pit. 

“No? We’ll move on then! No problem, kiddo!” Patton grinned and paused. Logan finally looked at him. Patton only then started to move the feather. The fluffy fronds creeping back up the sleeve. 

“NOOOOOO! PATTON! AAAAHAHAHAHA!” Logan tried to rock away from him so the feather could leave quicker. Patton simply smiled and then whipped the feather out and instantly shoved down the other sleeve. “AH! Hahahahaha! Patton! Nooo ohohhahahaha feathers!”

“What feathers? I don’t see any feathers! I can’t see anything that would be tickle tickle tickling you? No feathers that are tickling you here! You must just be extra giggly today!”

“PATTON! AHAHhahahaaahhahaha! My sleeve!”

“Nah, I think you’re imagining things!” 

Patton let his excited grin settle into a peaceful smile. He didn’t usually make notes on his ticklees- he knew them too well.  He didn’t need notes to remember that Logan wasn’t that feather ticklish. But clearly the appearance of the feather was teasy enough by itself, regardless of how ineffective it was, so Patton made sure to make note of that. 

Patton's original plan was to look extra cool by walking away leaving Logan on the floor red faced. But... his mind would never allow that. He sat him up and pressed a kiss to his head before skipping away. Logan only shook his head and pulled up his phone to text the others. 

Roman was next! But he so often got caught up in his world of the imagination that it was always random luck whether he would come out of his room. It was better to just barge in rather than put up a façade of dusting. “House keeping!” Patton called as he knocked. He waited a few seconds before entering anyway. 

He smiled wide when he saw that Remus had joined him in this recent brainstorming session. Usually that smile would be over the fact that they were so sweet with each other. Finally someone who could keep up with Remus and someone who could actually one up Roman. But this time his brain celebrated the idea of two birds, one stone. “Hey kiddos! I’m walking around doing some cleaning, do you mind sitting down so I could-”

“Well then where’s your French maid outfit!”

“Clean your desks! Why don’t you both lay down on the bed? I won’t be long and you both can overdo it! Juts relax,” Patton smiled, hoping they wouldn’t question such a remark. But then again they weren’t Logan. 

And just like he thought... they only shrugged and flopped down on the bed. 

Patton kept up his excuse for a groundbreaking few seconds before leaping on to the bed himself. He aimed carefully, he sat on Roman’s thighs so he could perfectly aim for his tummy. As much as Patton would absolutely love to tickle torture Remus, he was still new to the group and he didn’t want to crowd him. If he did this the second Anxiety was accepted then Virgil would've completely freaked out! Better safe than sorry. 

“W-What on earth are you doing!” Roman laughed, clearly in too much of a good mood to notice Patton’s own almost threatening glare. 

“I’ve seen too many... films that start just like this!” 

“Don’t worry kiddos! I just wanted to make sure you’re clean! Germs are everywhere you know!” Patton had to bat away Roman’s hands as he slowly pushed up his tunic but luckily he had Remus! Remus caught on to his twin’s embarrassment instantly and quickly grabbed his hands. “Oh, see! Completely dusty!”

“Oh! Patton! Wait wait WAIT! NOHOHOHOOHAHAHHEHEHAAAA!” Roman screamed once he felt that feather duster brush over his tummy. From one side, it smoothed over to the other. Making sure to swirl around his belly button. Roman broke down into squeaky laughter that made everyone in the room smile themselves. His laughter was just so bright and excitable. 

“Aw what’s wrong Roman? Are you too tickly to be dusted? It’s only a feather! One tiny flimsy feather! A feather and you’re telling me Prince Roman can’t handle it! Big strong Prince Roman being weak and tickly to some feathers...” Patton cooed while turning and quickly brushing the duster around his tummy. This time he used the whole duster as he already knew that Roman was feather sensitive and the sight of all those feathers would fluster Roman alone. Patton also knew that if he kept moving it around rather than any precise targeting then it would tickle all the more. Lot’s of tickles for the over the top cackling Prince. 

But.. then there was some hushed giggles also spread out in Roman’s laughter. 

Patton then noticed that when he feathered Roman’s left side, he was also brushing over Remus’ right side. 

“Oh! And also the duke! Is this what I’m seeing! That even the tough-guy gross duke is too tickly to face some simple fluffy tickly tickling feathers?!” 

Remus was wearing a crop top version of his normal outfit- the same fancy shoulder pads and patterned sleeves but the lacy black tunic ended a little above his belly button. So, the feathers kept flickering over his own side as he was laid right next to him. But his hands were busy pinning Roman’s hands. Remus’ was trying his hardest to hide his giggles but Patton could see the exact same squeaky laughter desperate to come out. His face was scrunched and blushing a violent red. 

“Oh! No, Roman! Look at what you’ve done now, you’ve gotten Remus all dusty! Here I thought you were the responsible brother. Now I have to tickle tickle tickle both of you! Oh no! Poor dusty tickly tickly brothers!” Patton cooed and started to brush the feather duster faster and faster across both of the tummies. Roman’s desperate laughter dying out only for Remus’ to instantly pick up. 

Patton had to laugh at how in sync they truly were. Their laughter was the exact same. Clearly their tummies were both very feather sensitive. When the duster went to tickle the other’s tummy, the other brother would pin their arms down. When he tickled them both, they both clung to each other’s hands like that would somehow stop the tickles. Meaning Patton was free to tickle away! 

“Aw, I wonder if I can make this quicker by tickling both of you. Maybe if I just squish you two together?” Patton then pushed on Remus’ back so he was forced to curl into Roman, leaving him able to tickle the middle of their tummies together. 

“AAAAH! PADAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA! HA! PADREEEAAA!” Roman wiggled uselessly and clung to his brother’s hands. It tickled way too much for him to realise that he could fight back. 

“EEEHHEHHAHHAHAHAHHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAA!” Remus hid in his face in Roman’s shoulder. He had never been tickled by feathers and now he was thankful! The fluffy silky feathers swarming around his tummy made butterflies explode in his tummy. It all managed to both be fluffy light tickles but also scratchy firm tickles! His tummy was uselessly sucking in but the feather duster would only just about reach his tummy. Meaning it was either face the tickles or sit there and face tiny light fluffy tickles to the edge of his sides. 

Patton waited until Roman’s face turned bright red as well before sitting up. Clearly Remus was only embarrassed while Roman’s blush was a pretty good way to tell if he was reaching his limit. He did the same for them as he did Logan, sitting them up and pressing them together so he could kisses to their heads. But only he made sure to give a reassuring squeeze to Remus’ hand, hopefully he knew that he wasn’t torturing him but playfully bonding with him. If not, then Roman would fill him in that this was just how Patton was. 

His next target was Virgil and it was the exact plan as Roman. Virgil so rarely left his room and so a direct approach was necessary. What his plan didn’t account for was Logan sending a warning text to everyone. Virgil’s room was empty. 

At first glance. 

But a closer inspection revealed that his favourite blanket was missing from its place on the bed and was instead peeking out of the wardrobe. The quiet tinny music (probably blasting through headphones) sounded from the same place. It all added up to Virgil hiding out in his wardrobe. What a cutie! 

“House cleaning! I’m just here to do some dusting!” Patton announced and immediately skipped to the wardrobe and sat against the doors. As much as he loved teasing, Virgil wouldn’t stand a few seconds of teasy before making a run for it. Patton leaned forward and, quick as a whip, reached into the wardrobe and snatched whatever he could. Virgil shrieked but was too surprised to fight back. By some miracle, he had grabbed an ankle. Meaning a now wiggly foot was poking out of the wardrobe. 

Virgil didn’t even have time to flick his headphones off his head by the time he felt feathers trailing over his foot. It was a feather duster. Logan had warned him. But Patton had thoroughly defeated his fortress of anti-ticklishness. It managed to tickle his whole foot. It seemed to swallow his whole foot in fluffy moving tickles. “HA! HA HA hehhehahahehehe! AAAHH! Patton! It tihiih- tickles! C’mon! HA! HAhehhehehahehe!” 

“Well maybe if you didn’t try to hide away then I wouldn’t have to tickle so much!” Patton hummed as he focused on the tickles. He was trying to be sneaky about untangling a single feather and so wasn’t putting his usual effort into his teases. He already knew that Virgil wouldn’t explode into laughter at the feathers. But that wasn’t going to stop him from tickling him to his best. At least he could give him a good light tickles session. Once he had a feather free, he simply held the foot by his heel and threaded the feather through his scrunched up toes. 

“AAAAH! PATTON! PATTON! PAAAAA! HAHAhaheheheeeehheehehHhA!” Virgil thrashed and tried to fall out of the wardrobe but Patton leaned heavily on the door. Trapped with his foot stuck out there, receiving all the tickles it could stand. 

“Oh that wardrobe got you all dusty! There’s some dust here... and here... oh that patch over there... It’s all over your toes! Look some much dust! So many tickle tickle tickles needed to clean your toes!” Patton giggled as the doors tried to bang open again. Really he was struggling to keep the fight or flight side trapped. It was like sitting against a bucking bull so Patton kept focused on giving lots of tickles all at once. He knew there was no way he was going to last long. 

And he didn’t. 

With a long squeal, Virgil managed to burst out of the wardrobe and fall on top of Patton. He simply laughed as Virgil took giggly deep breaths. “Get off of me!” Patton laughed as he went to stand up, causing Virgil to slump on to the floor. He helped him to sit up against the wardrobe and smoothed his hair back which Virgil whined at his bangs being ruined. 

And then there was one. 

Deceit, or Janus, was sitting there in the common rooms. His leg resting on the other, his fingers steepled under his chin, a book sat beside him on the chair arm, and his eyes boring into Patton. 

Patton stumbled but kept a brave face. “Hey Janus! What ya waiting for?” Patton smiled as he walked over to the chair, already planning to duck behind it so he could tickle his neck, Janus simply looked over at him. Making direct eye contact as Patton awkwardly side stepped around the common room to get behind him. 

As the feather, the first fluffy feather frond, touched down on Janus’ neck... ready to flick the tool down the side of his neck. As the feather touched down, Janus grabbed his wrist. 

His third arm grabbed the feather as he gracefully launched off the chair. Two arms restrained Patton’s arms. Janus pinned Patton to his front so his other arms were free to attack. 

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Janus, wait, no no, Janus!” Patton screamed but the other free hands were now all holding bright yellow feathers, this time with the stem pointed at him. Janus did not wait. 

The stems all dived under his top and traced around his tummy and sides. It looked ridiculous, Patton squirming against him with four hand shaped bulges dancing under his shirt around his tummy. Two swirled from his sides, across his hips, making sure to circle the hip bones and skated across the quivering tummy. Laughter frantically burst from Patton, useless against the hard tickles. “What dear Patton? You say to stop but I don’t possibly see what could be tickling you!” Janus taunted, exaggerating by whipping his head around and peering over Patton’s heaving shoulders. “Besides, it was you going around tickling! You made a plan and everything! What are your notes, or did you forget? Did you forget to pay attention. Too focused on tickle tickle tickling away to remember your plan. When did you forget? When getting the twins? Virgil?”

“JAAANAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAAAAA! EEEEE! HAHAHAHAHAHA!” 

The others all walked in seeing Patton being destroyed by tickles that Janus just could not see let alone stop! All of them merely smiled and kept on their way. 

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 13

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 13 - Doubt

In the archaeological internship Lin Yan participated in, the Ming Tomb was undoubtedly a very peculiar place. The excavation work lasted three months. Before the excavation started, Lin Yan didn't even get any relevant background information. He asked his professor several times but never got a response. When he was told that would be staying at the tomb for only a week, he thought he was coming to be the team's water boy. Instead, he was unexpectedly sent to the site as soon as the plane touched down and was given one of the most important jobs of cleaning the body found in the main room of the tomb.

It was a medium-sized underground mysterious tomb. Bluestone blocks were built into arches. The apse in the room was about forty meters long. A large black lacquered coffin left slightly ajar rested peacefully on the stone platform. Lin Yan and the rest of the crew held their breath together. When the golden nanmu wood coffin lid was slowly lifted, and the gold, silver, jade and rosy brocade around the corpse were exposed, a soft cheer erupted from the tomb. Everyone couldn't help but celebrate that they found such an magnificent mausoleum that had been left completely untouched by tomb robbers. After a long while, all nonessential personnel evacuated one by one. Lin Yan remembered that the professor was the last one to leave the scene. When he left, he rested his hand heavily on his shoulders, as if he wanted to say something but never ended up getting anything out. In the empty and dark main room of the tomb, only Lin Yan and a few lights, both bright and dim, were left. Sometimes, the miner's lamp was often extinguished inexplicably. He later recalled that the owner of the tomb might have been watching him ever since then.

The corpse in the coffin had rotted into a skeleton, but the hair that remained was soft and shiny. However, when Lin Yan sat alone by the coffin and skimmed through some history books, doubts arose. The identity of the owner of the tomb was like the bronze of this mysterious palace, unrecognizable under the green rust. There was no record, no genealogy, nothing even mentioned in town and county chronologies. The tomb's eternal light placed in front of the coffin had long been dried up, and a two-foot-long black name card behind it was coated with thick old blood. The place where the name should be written was empty, and it turned out to be a non-character memorial tablet.

When the last artifact in the coffin was successfully taken out, Lin Yan was told he could return. It only took them seven days and no one had ever told him about the origin of the tomb that whole time.

The sun was shining on Friday morning, and the roses in the flower bed were rushing to bloom. There was a soft fragrance of something oily like burning opium in the air. Lin Yan parked his car at the school gate and hurried through the small square in front of the building to get to the professor's office. He was in such a rush that he went through the ground fountain in the square. After he took a few steps, bells and drums started playing and spurts of water shot from the jets, the surrounding area immediately turning into a forest of water columns shooting up.

"Shit. . ." He couldn't dodge them and got completely soaked. Lin Yan internally cursed as he rushed forward, wringing out the hem of his shirt. A few school girls had just come out of the main entrance of the building and giggled at the embarrassing scene.

Lin Yan blushed a little.

Shiny drops of water splashed off his hair and a droplet fell into his eye. When he raised his hand to wipe it away, his wrist was caught by someone. The cold fingertips wiped the drop off one of his eyelashes. Lin Yan blinked and stood there silently.

When he walked up the steps, he saw a new large poster on the left side of the automatic door. A gentle-looking middle-aged man with glasses was holding a pen, and his demeanour resembled an unopened folder in a stationery store. There was a large line next to him: Chen XX, a well-known Chinese history professor, is coming to our school to give a lecture. All students are welcome to participate. This will be a great chance to interact with the professor.

The tune played was one typically used by the Propaganda Department, the following rows of small letters are written with the specific time and content of the event. Lin Yan struggled to twist the hem of the wet T-shirt and walked towards the hall, muttering that this was probably the reason that the fountain suddenly turned on. Turning back, he frowned and stood in front of the poster for a minute. He always felt that the man on the poster was a bit familiar, but he couldn't remember who it was. After thinking about it for a while, Lin Yan shook his head and stepped through the hall.

The professor's office was on the fourth floor.

"Professor, are you kidding me? From the preliminary preparations to the end of the tomb excavation, so many people participated in it. How could it be possible that nothing about the tomb owner's origins could be found until now?"

"That tomb was already considered to be average to wealthy for the time period. Even if the owner of the tomb was not of official origin, there is always a record in historical records for wealthy businessmen."

University institutions were never busy on Fridays. Everyone was waiting for the weekend. Lin Yan’s professor was no exception. He was sitting in the office with his legs crossed when the drenched student burst into his office. Behind the table, he held a heavy purple sand teacup in his hand. Because he often went to the West in his early years, his skin was wrinkled by the wind and frost. His midsection was blessed by some middle-aged fat, and the bags under the eyes were hanging loosely behind the glasses.

The professor grew impatient with Lin Yan's aggressive tone, and patted a stack of books on the table: "Isn't that so? You see, I'm more worried about writing a report on the excavation. I've been busy for more than a month and I haven't made any progress."

Lin Yan leaned forward impatiently with his hands on the glass plate of the tabletop: "The mausoleum was left untouched. The body and burial items were intact. Isn't it possible to determine the identity of the tomb owner?"

This student had always been known for his politeness and patience. It was rare for him to be this anxious.

"That's the problem. Comparing the data compiled based on the unearthed cultural relics with the records at the time, I can only say that he's completely unknown." The professor put down the cup and tapped his finger on the cover of the book a few times: "Ming Dynasty history is not my specialty. Tell me, why don't you do some research yourself? The students in our school must be able to research independently. You should make good use of the school library resources."

Lin Yan shook his head disappointedly. Just like the professor said, there was a lot of historical data to go through. He wouldn't make any progress in the next three months. Even three years might not be enough time to go through all the information. By then, he would have run out of ten lives. What's more, he has searched through the relevant history books of the library for the past week and even asked Yin Zhou to search through the database in less legal ways, but the strange thing is that no matter what keywords they use - the age, name, location - he couldn't find any information. It was common sense that, in ancient times, even a talented person would be written about somewhere in the county annals, but this Xiao Yu was like a person from another world. The records passed over him like he had never existed.

The faint scent of book pages and wood was floating in the air, and the light blue shutters broke up the rays of sun leaking in. Lin Yan subconsciously glanced back, as if there should be a companion waiting to respond to his doubts. But Xiao Yu does exist, he thought.

Trying his best to stay calm, Lin Yan lowered his head and lowered his voice: "Teacher, this is really important to me, can you help. . ." While speaking, his gaze was fixed on the table. Under the glass plate were many old photos of the professor when he was young. There was a row of people wearing work clothes and hard hats in the black-and-white pictures. Compared to the middle-aged man with swollen eyes in front of him, there was a strange sense of contradiction in the gray-headed but happy-looking man in the pictures.

Time really did wonders.

The instructor tapped two fingers on the table. He didn't look at Lin Yan when he spoke. His eyes were a little dodged: "Why do you need to know the owner of the tomb? Do you need to write a paper?"

Lin Yan took a deep breath. He had always had a keen insight into people's emotions. When he had been sorting through clues last night, the situation that occurred in the tomb flashed in his mind. He had already had his doubts at the time, but he was so nervous and excited that he didn't think too much of it. For example, ever since he joined the team, everyone had been keeping secrets, and the professor also looked at him with that dodgy look when the excavators all left the tomb. The whole thing seemed to have been arranged long ago, so Lin Yan hadn't cared about interrupting the teacher's off-time and grabbed the phone to set up a meeting time.

"Professor, you should know why; this is a matter of life and death." After hesitating for a moment, Lin Yan frowned and said this sentence with emphasis. He pressed his hands on the table hard and turned away.

When I walked to the door of the office. He paused, one, two. . . Lin Yan counted silently in his heart.

Three.

"Wait." The professor's voice sounded from behind.

"Lin Yan, this project isn't under my control. I just heard that a lot of strange things happened when the tomb was opened. Someone came to me and asked you to go. I didn't agree with it. . . If you really want to know more, you can go ask the coordinator of the excavation yourself." The finger tapped twice on the desk. "His name is Chen, he'll be at our school next Monday for a lecture. There are posters downstairs." After speaking, he took a few volumes from the neatly arranged books and put them back on the table, gesturing that he could leave. "You can get more out of him than me"

"Last question." Lin Yan held the door frame and poked his face in: "Teacher, do you know Xiao Yu?"

"No, I don't." The answer was quick this time: "Who's that?"

Lin Yan sighed and held the railing as he quickly walked downstairs.

[lysissisyl]

Here’s my story for the event @raines-stories-n-things organized. Thank you for your hard work.

I don’t know if you knew, but you assigned me a prompt for my fiancée, making it all even more special for us. So... to @patricia-von-arundel , with all my love. 💜

Trick or kiss?

Byleth has always loved Halloween. She could see the kids wearing crazy costumes and going out trick-or-treating in tv shows, all the horror houses, with their mechanical creatures moving and making creepy sounds (she heard people calling them “animatronics”). Even kids’ cartoons had special episodes airing on that day.

When she was a child, it was considered something foreign, an American tradition that nobody followed or cared about in her country, but things had started to change with time. Now kids wore costumes and went out asking for sweets. They knocked at their neighbors’ doors asking “Dolcetto o scherzetto?” Their parents had to hang messages to tell people to get ready, so they had something to give them, and they usually didn’t leave the building or the street they lived in, but it was something. They received normal sweets, nothing crazy, nothing made for the occasion. People didn’t hang up decorations, not many at least. The neighbors had carved pumpkin and put it out of their door once. You could see some funny things in shops, but not much, nothing compared to Christmas, for example (even if even Christmas decorations weren’t as fancy as the American ones). She knew there were Halloween Parties, but chaotic discos weren’t her cup of tea. She tried wearing a simple costume and walking around, she took some pictures once, but people looked at her like she was strange. (To be honest, they often did and it didn’t bother her, but the atmosphere wasn’t exactly thrilling.)

She could notice the difference the moment she arrived at the airport. The shops there were full, literally full of anything Halloween related. They even had pets’ costumes! There were decals and lights and things she didn’t know how to call on display. Some kids already had costumes, even if it wasn’t the 31st yet.

As far as she loved it all though, she never stopped to buy or look at anything for more than a second; she had other things on her mind now. One thing in particular: Edelgard.

Edelgard was waiting (in)patiently. She had arrived at the airport an hour and a half in advance and had been pacing since. After reading the flight landed, she started checking the time and her phone basically every 5 seconds. She only stopped the moment she saw Byleth walking towards her. They both froze for a few seconds before running into each other’s arms. It had been too long. It was always too long. Edelgard was sure she was going to cry any moment, but she categorically refused to cry in public. She needed to keep herself busy and she needed to bring Byleth home. Now.

Whatever was outside the airport doors, Byleth didn’t notice. She could blame the long flight (and she was actually very tired and dazed), but the truth was that all her brain could process for a while was the warmth of Edelgard’s hand in hers.

“...or you prefer going straight home?”

“What?”

The look on her face must have been 50% smitten adoration and 50% pure confusion, because Edelgard blushed and laughed. “I was asking if you want to go and pick up some food or you prefer going straight home and let me make something for you there.” She paused and smiled slightly. “Perhaps I should just bring you too bed though, since you truly look exhausted.”

Was that concern or a timid attempt to tease? Maybe both. And she sure wasn’t too tired to fight back. “Don’t worry about that. Resting my head on your shoulder while you drive will sure make miracles for my awareness level.”

Edelgard almost let her car keys fall and clumsily opened the trunk. “Give me your luggage, so we can go wherever you want.” The imperative tone told Byleth she hit home. Score! She handed her the big case with a grin.

After they both got in the car Edelgard started the engine and they left the parking lot in silence. Most people would have considered it awkward, but it wasn’t. It was that kind of silence that two people can share when they’re truly close and are just feeling each other’s presence. It was a very intimate silence.

They both liked listening to music in the car and they often did, but not now: this short trip was just for them, to enjoy being together after such a long time, alone.

Edelgard broke the silence first. “From a more practical side...”, she stopped, realizing her voice was going to betray her thoughts again. There was no time to think about the softness of Byleth’s body against hers. Focus, Edelgard! She cleared her voice. “Do you want to stop somewhere for food or not?”

Too harsh. But Byleth smiled. She could read her far too well. “I vote for sushi. Sushi is always good for a date.”

Edelgard silently thanked the darkness for hiding her blush. They had been together for month, but the word “date” still had such a strong effect on her! If felt like she was suddenly so light she could fly and the only thing preventing her from getting lost in the vast sky was Byleth. Byleth being there meant she could fly safely.

Drive safely. She should focus on the road and drive safely. No flying. Why was she even thinking about flying? “Sushi sounds good.” The answer came late enough for Byleth to giggle.

Sushi looked good too. That was Byleth’s first thought in the restaurant. She saw a waiter passing by with some and she suddenly realized how hungry she truly was.

When Edelgard showed her the menu, her eyes literally lightened up. It wasn’t that she had never had sushi, she had it often, but sharing it with Edelgard was different. It was special. She rarely smiled, but even just discussing what to order made her smile. Edelgard had that strange effect on her. She had had it from the start.

Byleth had lived almost all her life barely feeling. She acknowledged most emotions, but...they weren’t truly there. It was like living behind a glass. It was normal to her, but she could still see it. When she met Edelgard though, that glass began to crack and when they got together...it shattered. It felt truly like she came with a giant axe and just smashed it. Gone. In instants. She saved her from a cold she wasn’t even fully aware off. And now...now she was smiling at sushi and she felt like laughing.

The drive home was peaceful. They kept talking about places to visit and things to do. They had discussed them many times, most at least, but it was different now: the time had come. So they kept talking and planning, just because it felt good to. At least, they kept talking until Byleth stopped replying.

Now Edelgard was sitting in the car, parked in her usual spot, uncertain about what to do. Byleth was resting her head on her shoulder, like she had playfully mentioned before, one of her hands was holding onto her shirt. She was sound asleep. Edelgard didn’t dare moving. She felt like when a kitten fell asleep on her lap. Part of her just wanted to stay there and watch her sleep. She could admire her beautiful face, put her hand on hers, kiss her forehead if she turned carefully enough. Part of her though desperately wanted to bring her home, carry her to bed, wrap her arms around her and kiss her, being it just a kiss goodnight or something more. She just wanted to kiss her beaut-

The rational part of her cut that thought there, reminding her they needed to get out of the car, carry the luggage inside, have dinner. Only then it would have been time to go to bed. Together... Feeling her so close against her...and-

Focus! Luggage, then dinner.

She lifted her left hand, then stopped a few centimeters from Byleth’s head. Hesitation. They had been together for month, but she still hesitated. Her thoughts went easily out of control, she often found herself daydreaming until she could almost feel her skin, but her body still stopped, like it wondered if she was truly allowed. She internally laughed at herself, letting her fingers into Byleth’s hair. Messy and soft. She loved it. She stroked them gently, until she felt her girlfriend humming and her hand tightening its grip on her shirt. Cute.

“El?” Byleth’s voice sounded so sleepy... Unusual for someone who always said she completely woke up in seconds. Edelgard’s hand stopped when she found herself unreasonably flustered again. “Sushi is good fresh. We better go.” Too harsh. Again. She sighed, getting out of the car. “I’ll take your luggage.”

Byleth didn’t seem to object, so she did, holding the handle so tight her knuckles turned white. She walked straight to the front door, fully focused on one goal at a time. Keys, keyhole, unlock. She could hear Byleth’s footsteps behind her, stopping when she turned around to close the door. She heard the lock, then another step, Byleth’s hand on her shoulder. She froze.

“El?”

She left the case fall and turned around without thinking, pulling her close and holding her in the tightest hug she had ever experienced. She was there, home with her, she was real.

She was real.

She felt Byleth slowly hugging her back. She held her breath. Neither of them was used to hugs. Byleth was the only person Edelgard felt comfortable hugging and she had no doubt the same went for her.

•~•~•~

For the first time in a while, Byleth didn’t jump on her feet as soon as she woke up. The first thing she was aware of was the warmth of Edelgard’s body against hers. She felt her snuggling closer when she gently stroke her hair, still half asleep. She looked so adorable! She probably would have grumbled at the word, but she was. The thought made Byleth laugh.

Edelgard looked up, suddenly embarrassed, her hands trying to let go of her shirt and failing. She decided to hide her face against her chest instead. “What are you laughing at?”

Tempting, damn tempting… “You’re cute.”

She couldn’t see Edelgard’s face, but she had no doubt it was bright red.

“I am not.” She was clearly fighting herself when she got up. “We should have breakfast. We have an interesting day waiting for us.”

She headed to the kitchen without waiting for an answer, probably to hide the enthusiastic side that was breaking her sulking mask. Cute.

For the first time in a while, Edelgard had had no nightmare.

It wasn’t the first time. Having Byleth there always made miracles for her sleep. Having Byleth in general was enough for an improvement, but…having her there was like a spell. She could let go, she felt safe, like her ghosts couldn’t touch her, like her past couldn’t hurt her anymore. Her demons were tamed.

She smiled, the smile growing wider when she saw Byleth approaching. She knew she would have followed her right after, but actually seeing her there still made her emotional.

She took a pan and a few ingredients and realized she was humming a tune only halfway through the preparations. She hushed fretfully, pouring the mix in. Another giggle, then arms wrapping around her from behind, Byleth’s breath on her neck.

She shivered. “The waffles are going to get burnt.”

“Would it be a big deal?”

“I bought a pumpkin-shaped waffle-plate just to make you Halloween waffles. I would be very pissed.” She was such a bad liar. Her voice betrayed her. She laughed at herself.

Another giggle. “You’re lucky I’m hungry in the morning.” She left a kiss on her neck before taking a step back. “But you still owe me cuddles after leaving like that."

That playful attitude was new too. Byleth always appeared so distant around people… Being allowed to see this side of her was a privilege (even if the little shit loved teasing her). “You shouldn’t have called me cute.”

“But you are.”

Edelgard glared at her. “Do you still want your waffles?”

“I’m not saying another word.” Her grin talked for her though.

The waffles smelled delicious and tasted even better. Edelgard had added fruit on some, poured strange creepy-colored glazes on others. The red one looked like blood, but tasted like cherry. She couldn’t identify the purple and green ones, but food colors were probably involved. She sipped from her cup one last time, inhaling the characteristic smell of Edelgard’s favorite Bergamot tea. She usually brewed some to share when they were together, but today Edelgard had other projects. She had served her some in a black, spooky cup, with a spider-shaped cookie on the side. Byleth sure wasn’t the only one loving Halloween.

“You mentioned projects for today.”

“ Yes. We are going out early. We have some shopping to do.”

She had such a happy look on her face, like a child who was going to show their parents the phantasmagoric new dinosaur toy they just won in a game at the fair. Byleth couldn’t help it. “Cute.”

Edelgard wasn’t actually a big fan of shopping, but this was different: this was Halloween shopping!

She had spent a long time planning it all, thinking about all the things they had discussed, adding more... This was Byleth’s first time truly celebrating Halloween and she wanted to make it perfect for her.

Their first stop was the reason she wanted to go out early. Costume shops usually got really crowded later those days. They spent more than an hour trying the silliest things on, showing each other, laughing together. They ended up dressing as a king and his knight. Those costumes won their hearts the moment Byleth kneeled before her and Edelgard started stuttering something about giving the wrong impression and making her thoughts strange. Edelgard also added an axe to her costume, stating a true king should fight side by side with his soldiers. Brave and strong even when playing around... Was it silly to feel proud? Byleth shook her head with a smile. Did it matter? She was.

The second place was a huge, HUGE store, full of all kinds of things, from forniture to food. There was an entire isle dedicated to Halloween decorations. Edelgard only had a few, but she was determined to make her house spooky this year. The first thing Byleth took was a pumpkin-shaped string lights.

“We could use them for the Christmas tree too.”

“ Halloween stuff on the Christmas tree? Not very traditional.” Edelgard smiled. “ I like it.”

“We could keep some other decorations out too, put a Christmas hat on the skeleton’s head.”

“We don’t have a skeleton.”

Byleth shrugged. “Yet.”

Almost a hour later they had skeletons (humanoids, animals and dragons), three different kinds of spiderwebs, bloody handprints stencils for the doors, a bloodstained mat for the bathtub and many other things. They went back to the car with a heavy cart and a lighter wallet.

The third stop was at the supermarket.

“Are we getting something for lunch?” Byleth was looking at everything with genuine curiosity. The brands and packagings were all very different from the ones she knew. It was something most people would have ignored, but she found it fascinating. She completely forgot about it the moment they reached the produce aisle though. “Pumpkins!” Her eyes were sparkling. “REAL pumpkins!”

They had been talking about carving pumpkins for months. To Byleth, that had never had a chance, it felt like such a nice family thing! She had always wanted to try, but her father wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who likes decorating and such. Everything he did was always for a reason, always had a purpose. The idea of carving pumpkins, attempt strange shapes and be silly together was extremely precious to her and...thrilling.

Edelgard loved seeing her like that, especially since Byleth herself had told her she had never felt like that before meeting her.

She looked at all her smiles and laughs like they were the rarest marvels she had ever admired. Her emotions were a gift to them both.

Byleth was still grinning when they reached the baking products and then moved to other isles. They wanted to make something nice and creepy together, like the funny Halloween party recipes you can find on YouTube. Byleth’s cooking skills didn’t get past a hamburger and noodles, so the ingredients and recipes’ choice was on Edelgard. She had considered many options and was determined to try a few. She wanted to impress her.

Byleth got distracted again by all the sweets and weird...”things” in the next section. Kids sure could get very colorful, strange stuff in their baskets there! There were candies in all shapes, colors and flavors. There were cookies that looked like smiling spiders and happy pumpkins, purple witch hats, green potions, black cats.

Byleth was amazed by how many brands produced something special just for Halloween. In her country she could find chocolate eggs for Easter, panettone and pandoro for Christmas, butnever so many crazy, different themed treats. It was so hard to choose! Luckily they could try many, since they were going to give most to the neighborhood kids on the 31st. At least that’s what she told herself, while Edelgard’s face grew more and more concerned after every trip from the shelves to their cart.

Bringing everything to the car at once was a challenge, but they did it, impressing a few passerbies. Byleth had never been so happy Edelgard had a SUV.

Lunch. Edelgard had projects for lunch too. Something fast, because it was already lunchtime, but fitting. You could only get pumpkin ice cream around Halloween and Byleth had to try it.

Dinner was a whole different thing. Edelgard had made sure they had all they needed to try some funny recipes. They made pumpkin-shaped pumpkin bread. It was a must, one of the first Halloween foods Edelgard had mentioned and one she liked a lot.

The second idea they decided to try was far less traditional and definitely unusual: Frankenstein sushi. They put rice, water and green food coloring in and, after around 30 minutes, they boiled it, then let it cool down a bit. They pressed it into squares around salmon and avocado, topping them with nori sheets as hair. They arranged carrots matchsticks on the sides to look like bolts. More nori, some black rice and truffle sauce made the trick to draw the faces. They had fun changing the expressions and shapes. Those little monsters looked so silly! When they were done, they put them in the fridge to keep them cold.

They decided to make spooky donuts too, as a treat. They had bought a lot of decorations just for those. Edelgard knew Byleth loved them and there were some crazy options there that weren’t available in her country. Once ready, they looked adorably creepy and colorful. Some were covered in orange glaze, with a chocolate spiderweb. Some even had spiders on them, made with a dough ball covered in dark chocolate, chocolate sticks stuck in it to make the legs and big round sugar eyes. Others were covered in white glaze, with red jelly forming veins, colorful candies as the iris and a drop of chocolate as the pupil. Some weren’t even shaped like donuts. Squared ones with green glaze and chocolate provided another version of Frankenstein’s head; pumpkin-shaped ones, with dark chocolate as the carving were a must. Too many to count. Byleth was staring at them with sparkling eyes.

“Do you want one?” Edelgard couldn’t help giggling. “Or dinner first?”

“We could have a reverse dinner.”

“A reverse dinner?”

”We start from the dessert.”

The weirdness of it made Edelgard smile. It was very Byleth. “You want one.” She couldn’t help laughing again and her girlfriend with her. Byleth took an azure one with small sugar pumpkins and bats on it, split it in halves. “I want to share one.”

“Sharing sounds perfect.” Sharing felt warm.

The evening was pleasantly cool, a bit foggy. Edelgard came out of the kitchen with two big knives in her hands and her best attempt at a creepy look on her face. To Byleth she actually looked cute, but the jolt of excitement made her completely forget about teasing. “Pumpkin carving!”

Edelgard handed her one of the knives and she admired the blade. For a moment that simple gesture betrayed her fighting training. She was more comfortable with that weapon than any common person was supposed to be.

A moment.

A moment later she was smiling and choosing a pumpkin from the bags. She studied it with far less ease. “I don’t know where to start.”

Edelgard moved her chair closer, her pumpkin next to Byleth’s on the table. “Honestly, I’m not that good at it, but I know the basics” She explained her and showed her what to do step by step. “First you cut off the crown.” She grabbed two large serving spoons and offered one to Byleth. “You scoop out the seeds and fibers, then the flesh. We can make something with those tomorrow, maybe roast the flesh and toast the seeds.” She drew the eyes, nose and mouth with a marker, then waited for Byleth to do the same. “Careful when you cut it off. You’ll need some strength. Keep your hands far enough from the blade.”

Byleth, the expert fighter, the blades collector, nodded. She loved Edelgard’s caring protectiveness.

Despite her words, Edelgard made a very good job with her pumpkin. Byleth was kinda proud of hers, especially as a first attempt. It was winking.

Once they were done carving, they inserted the candles and put the crown back in place. The cinnamon candles mixed wonderfully with the pumpkins’ natural flavor. They smelled delicious!

They stayed silent for little while, admiring the lights and shadows dancing inside their silly creations, sharing the intimacy. When Edelgard leant her head on her shoulder, Byleth started to gently stroke her hair; their jointed hands were resting on her lap. She could feel her body gradually relaxing, her breaths getting slower and deeper. There was no more tension in her when she was in her arms. She tenderly moved a strand of white hair from her face.

A perfect moment, followed by many others.

For their second almost-halloween night they decided to stick to the tradition. Byleth had never been as big of a horror movies expert as Edelgard was, so there were many she hadn’t seen yet. They both had looked forward watching some together and Byleth knew Edelgard also saw them as a very good excuse for cuddles. She gladly curled up in her arms, as close to her as she could, wrapped in her warmth. That was a night to stay up late, shiver together, then sleep cuddled close.

•~•~•~•

That was the day: Halloween.

It was around noon when she woke up, but it still felt too soon to leave the bed. Edelgard wanted to keep feeling Byleth on her, her hands holding her shirt, her breath on her skin…

She was higher than she was, a trained fighter and a badass, but she still felt such a strong protective instinct towards her…

She wanted to keep her warm.

She wanted to keep her safe.

She wanted to keep her.

Judging by the way she was clinging to her, Byleth agreed.

It took them one more hour of cuddles to finally decide to get up and make some tea. Byleth was extremely smug about eating the donuts they made with it; it was so evident Edelgard couldn’t help a giggle. There were so many things that were quite usual to her and so new to Byleth! And it wasn’t just about Halloween. It wasn’t only about the cultural differences either (some were evident, but there was more). It was like many normal things, family things especially, were completely unknown to her. Edelgard obviously knew why. As for her…she had had no idea how much she had missed those things until Byleth.

They decided to shower and get dressed right after breakfast. They wanted to go out before it got dark and crowded. Edelgard had had the idea the day before. What better place for a King and his knight to spend some time together than solitary woods? There was a trail near her home that they could walk together and she knew places to stop and rest where no one would have bothered them.

Wearing the costumes home was definitely easier than doing that at the store. Byleth wrapped the long, red cloak around Edelgard’s shoulders with a a grin and an admired sound. “It suits you, my Emperor.” Edelgard fumbled helping Byleth with her armor. “It’s a king costume...don’t make it bigger than it is. It’s not... I’m not...”

A giggle.

The Emperor sighed. “I don’t seem to remember many knights being so bold with their lords.”

“Bold?” Something strange in her voice.

“Yes, bol-” Byleth’s lips on hers ended any complaint.

“Is this bold enough?”

“I...advise you to stop if you still plan to go out.”

Her face was so red Byleth almost giggled again, but the way Edelgard’s eyes were staring intently at her made her hold her breath instead. “I plan to come back soon. Or...” a long pause. “...how remote are those woods?”

The pauldron fell from Edelgard’s hands with a loud thud.

Most people go to parties on Halloween night, but neither of them was particularly fond of crowded places and loud music. The only thing they wanted was for that day to be theirs.

They wanted to read horror stories together, maybe try some creepy game. They wanted to hide spooky surprises for each other in the house or share some curiosities cuddled close on the couch.

Byleth didn’t know much about the origin of the festivity. She had heard of kids going out dressed as spirits so the real ones wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart and kidnap them, of people making offerings to such spirits to keep them away from their homes, to keep them friendly. She knew there were many legends, both local and well known in all the States, like Jack-O’-Lantern playing his tricks on the Devil and ending up a wondering soul.

Her knowledge though didn’t go past that. Edelgard was the expert and, luckily for Byleth, more than willing to share her knowledge.

“How do you know so many things?”

“Research, I suppose. You know I like creepy facts, folklore and peculiar traditions. Halloween is a mix of that all.”

“I’m impressed.”

“By my ramblings?”

“That’s not the word I would have chosen...”

An awkward laugh. “Maybe I wanted to impress you... Just a little bit.”

Byleth poked her. “Maybe.”